near as was possible in his own words, with a very small embellishment.
But I believe the reader hath not been a little surprized at the long
silence of parson Adams, especially as so many occasions offered
themselves to exert his curiosity and observation. The truth is, he was
fast asleep, and had so been from the beginning of the preceding
narrative; and, indeed, if the reader considers that so many hours had
passed since he had closed his eyes, he will not wonder at his repose,
though even Henley himself, or as great an orator (if any such be), had
been in his rostrum or tub before him.

Joseph, who whilst he was speaking had continued in one attitude, with
his head reclining on one side, and his eyes cast on the ground, no
sooner perceived, on looking up, the position of Adams, who was
stretched on his back, and snored louder than the usual braying of the
animal with long ears, than he turned towards Fanny, and, taking her
by the hand, began a dalliance, which, though consistent with the
purest innocence and decency, neither he would have attempted nor she
permitted before any witness. Whilst they amused themselves in this
harmless and delightful manner they heard a pack of hounds approaching
in full cry towards them, and presently afterwards saw a hare pop
forth from the wood, and, crossing the water, land within a few yards
of them in the meadows. The hare was no sooner on shore than it seated
itself on its hinder legs, and listened to the sound of the pursuers.
Fanny was wonderfully pleased with the little wretch, and eagerly
longed to have it in her arms that she might preserve it from the
dangers which seemed to threaten it; but the rational part of the
creation do not always aptly distinguish their friends from their foes;
what wonder then if this silly creature, the moment it beheld her,
fled from the friend who would have protected it, and, traversing the
meadows again, passed the little rivulet on the opposite side? It was,