"Speaking of odd
figures," said a gentleman who
occupies some post in a Government office, "one of the queerest
characters I know is an old lame widow who climbs up a hill every week
to draw her pension at the village post office.
She crawls up at the
rate of a mile and a half an hour and comes down at the rate of four
and a half miles an hour, so that it takes her just six hours to make
the double journey.
Can any of you tell
me how far it is from the
bottom of the hill to the top?"