“Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. ” Her heart had warmed toward him. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. 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. Jackson, to the swig.
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