"I am glad we are come for an airing,
For folks may be pounded, and penn'd,
Until they grow rusty, not caring
To stir half a mile to an end."
HE.
"The longer we stay,
The longer we may;
It's a folly to think about weather or way."
SHE.
"But now I begin to be frighted,
If I fall, what a way I should roll!
I am glad that the bridge was indicted,
Stay! stop! I am sunk in a hole!"
HE.
"Nay never care,
'Tis a common affair;
You'll not be the last, that will set a foot there."
SHE.
"Let me breathe now a little, and ponder
On what it were better to do;
That terrible lane I see yonder,
I think we shall never get through."
HE.