"Well, he's a figure of fun, so to speak, a clown is. He's a cove dressed all in white with a white face."
"Was it a clown in Punch and Judy?"
"That's right. That's it. My stars and garters, if you ain't a knowing one. Well, I was a clown once."
"When you was a little boy?"
"No, when I was a man, as you might say."
"Are clowns good?" inquired Jenny.
"Good as gold—so to speak—good as gold, clowns are. A bit high-spirited when they come on in the harlequinade, but all in good part. I suppose, taking him all round, you wouldn't find a better fellow than a clown. Only a bit high-spirited, I'd have you understand. 'Oh, what a lark,' that's their motto, as it were."
Ensconced in the great Grimaldi's chair, Jenny regarded the ancient Mischief with wondering glances and, as she sucked one of his lollipops, thoroughly approved of him.
"Look at this pretty lady," he said, placing before her a colored print of some famous Columbine of the past.
"Why is she on her toes?" asked Jenny.