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After Dinner—continued.
XIX.
So the Angel dined and talked to the Vicar, and presently the night came and he was overtaken by yawning.
"Yah———oh!" said the Angel suddenly. "Dear me! A higher power seemed suddenly to stretch my mouth open and a great breath of air went rushing down my throat."
"You yawned," said the Vicar. "Do you never yawn in the angelic country?"
"Never," said the Angel.
"And yet you are immortal!———I suppose you want to go to bed."
"Bed!" said the Angel. "Where's that?"
So the Vicar explained darkness to him and the art of going to bed. (The Angels, it seems, sleep only in order to dream, and dream like primitive man with their foreheads on their knees. And they sleep among the white poppy
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