366 WHAT THE MOON SAW. Tf Ts | ) i qn : UU URE it dy il Pulcinella on Columbine's Grave. was actually called before the curtain. He was pronounced inimitable. But last night the hideous little fellow went out of the town, quite alone, to the deserted churchyard. The wreath of flowers on Columbine’s grave was already faded, and he sat down there. Jt was a study for a painter. As he sat with his chin on his