Then glancing pleasantly at her father, he called her back, pointed with his finger to the inner surface, and said: "Just look at these lines, with the little strokes here at the end.
That's a snail with horns.

A slow creature! It warns people not to be over-hasty.

If you feel inclined to run, check your steps and ask where the path will lead." "And move through life like a cart creaping down into the valley with drags on the wheels," interrupted Xanthe.

"I expected something unlike school-masters' lessons from the clever hen that loaded Semestre with so many years." "Only question her about what is in your heart," replied the little man, "and she won't fail to answer." The young girl glanced irresolutely at the conjurer, but repressed the desire to learn more of the future, fearing her father's laughter.

She knew that, when Lysander was well and free from pain, nothing pleased him so much as to tease her till she wept.
The invalid guessed what was passing in his little daughter's mind, and said, encouragingly: "Ask the hen.