hexameter from Homer.

When the two friends were near enough, Mr. Plateas stopped and
effusively shook hands with his preserver.

"My dear friend, why didn't you tell me you were going to walk to-day?
We could have come out together,--it's time to go in now. Why did you
start so late?"

"Yes, I am late; I expected to meet you farther on." And Mr. Liakos
added with a show of indifference, "Are there many people out to-day?"

"Very few. You know our Syrans; they're content to saunter up and down
their crowded square; it is only people of taste who enjoy themselves--

[Greek Text] ... on the shore of the resounding sea."

"And who were these men of taste to-day?" asked the judge, with a smile.

"If I had spoken of MEN of taste, I should have had to confine myself to
the dual number!" Mr. Plateas began to laugh at his own joke. His friend
smiled too, but wishing a more exact answer, continued:

"At least we two have imitators; how many did you meet and who were
they?"

"Always the same; Mr. A., Mr. B.--" And the professor began to count off
on his fingers the peripatetic philosophers, as he used to call the
frequenters of this promenade, that he had met,--all of them old, or at
least of ripe age, except one romantic youth who thought himself a poet.