noon
Of late years an abundant shower of curates has fallen upon the north of England : they lie very thick on the hills ; every parish has one or more of them ; they are young enough to be very active , and ought to be doing a great deal of good . But not of late years are we about to speak ; we are going back to the beginning of this century : late years -- present years are dusty , sunburnt , hot , arid ; we will evade the noon , forget it in siesta , pass the midday in slumber , and dream of dawn . If you think , from this prelude , that anything like a romance is preparing for you , reader , you never were more mistaken . Do you anticipate sentiment , and poetry , and reverie ? Do you expect passion , and stimulus , and melodrama ?