Towards Highgate’s hill—and up the steep ascent
Toiled wearily—yet deem not him alone,
For at his heels there walked a faithful friend,
A gentle quadruped—a fond Grimalkin
Who purred between her master’s weary legs,
Till he looked down and saw her at his feet,
And wept at such four-footed sympathy.
So with their honest backs to London town
These twain toiled valiantly up Highgate hill.
They sat them down at last—for Whittington