Explore "Sink or Swim? , Volume III" by Matilda Charlotte Houstoun on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was Sunday at the Paddocks, -- Sunday afternoon, -- rather a ponderous season in the old silent house; and John was, sooth to say, a trifle tired of his own thoughts, to say nothing of the sight of his respectable parent poring, spectacles on nose, over the heavy sermon (a Sabbath duty with her, and a habit which she was far too old to break), that kept her in a blissful doze through two hours at least of that long afternoon of rest.
The early dinner was over; and the house being very quiet -- no sound more startling than the buzz of the flies upon the window-pane breaking the stillness of the restful time -- John Beacham, who had ensconced himself in his big arm-chair, feeling dull enough, poor fellow, without Honor, began to experience not only the influence of the heat but of the Sabbath beef and pudding; and his eyelids, "drawing straws," as the saying is, closed gradually over the tranquil scenes before him, and the deserted husband found himself in the land of dreams.