Page:Frogs (Murray 1912).djvu/21

Rh Which now?—Ah, yes; suppose you got a boatman

To tug you, with a hawser—round your neck

A chokey sort of journey, that.

Well, then,

There is a short road, quick and smooth, the surface

Well pounded—in a mortar.

The hemlock way?

Exactly.

Cold and bitter! Why, it freezes

All your shins numb.

Do you mind one short and steep?

Not in the least You know I'm no great walker.

Then just stroll down to Cerameicus

Well?

Climb up the big tower

Good: and then?