He was caked with dried muck. 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. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. It was just as easy to pretend she was watching one when she was actually watching the other. So he shut his eyes. I should have known at a glance if it was.
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