Page:A Picture-book without Pictures and Other Stories (1848).djvu/88

 was withered on Columbine’s grave; he sate down. It was something worth painting. His hands under his chin, his eyes fixed upon the moon; it was like a monumental figure. A clown upon a grave! very peculiar and very comic! Had the public seen their favorite then, how they would have shouted—“Bravo, Clown! bravo, bravissimo!”