" "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. . A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. Warm life was behind that always, even if it slept. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. . And it is all for his behaviour tout à fait imbecile, and that of monsieur le baron his father entirely unforgiving, that I am put at this need to come myself and get a dowry that I may marry in all honour. They could no longer stay in one place. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. "I did all for the best, as I'll explain. He was there concealed, waiting her return. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind.
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