“What country’s yours?”
“The biggest in the whole of Lucifram.”
“It would be bigger still if the women applied themselves better,” said the frog, and a short silence followed.
“Do you really think I ought to do it?” said Rosalie, at last, not being of that stubborn nature that delights in saying “no” and sticking to it.
“Well, I don’t see what else is to be done,” said her companion. “If you don’t dig you’ll never sow, and if you don’t sow, you’ll never reap, and if you don’t reap you’ll never—”
“Never what?”
“Prove you’re anything but a fool.”
“Really?” said Rosalie.
“Really!” said the frog; but the expression in each voice was different.
So she stuck the fork into the ground, and found it took a great deal of strength to make any impression upon the surface. But once having put her shoulder to the plough, as it were, there was nothing for it but to go on, for the old voice kept ringing “Go on! go on!” and consequently on she went.