but she herself is an awful thing—nor can any creature see her face and be glad; no, though it were a god that rose against her. For she had twelve feet, all fore-feet, and six necks, and terrible heads on them; and each has three rows of teeth, full of black death.
"But the opposite rock is lower than this, though but a bow-shot distant; and upon it there is a great fig-tree, full of leaves; and under it the terrible Charybdis sucks down the black water. Thrice in the day she sucks it down, and thrice casts it up again; be not thou there when she sucks down, for Neptune himself could not save thee."
[Thus far went my rambling note, in Fraser's Magazine. The Editor sent me a compliment on it—of which I was very proud; what the Publisher thought of it, I am not informed; only I know that eventually he stopped the papers. I think a great deal of it myself, now, and have put it all in large print accordingly, and should like to write more; but will, on the contrary, self-denyingly, and in gratitude to any reader who has got through so much, end my chapter.]
