The Freemason's Daughter: A Novel — page 57: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

48 THE FREEMASONS DAUGHTER. the keepers to make his way into the general yard; he had not the slightest idea where he was, or recollection of the means by which he had been brought there. ‘© Good God!” he exclaimed, “‘ where am I?’ as his eye wandered over a number of fantastic-looking beings, either grouped together or walking isolated along the pathway, by the lofty brick wall which encircled the yard. The question was not an unnatural one—many of the figures were enough to excite his curiosity. There was a venerable-looking old man, playing on a broken fiddle, a smile illuminating his withered face, as the fancied harmony responded to his fingering ; others, with fantastic head-dresses, composed of paper caps, feathers, and party-coloured rags; some, with that sullen, repulsive-looking countenance, which characterises idiotcy in its most hopeless expression. A grave-looking personage, in a long, black, faded coat, advanced towards him ; his features were perfectly composed, and to him the bewildered clerk ventured to address himself. ‘The stranger paused, with a quiet smile, when he saw him approach. ‘IT beg pardon,” he exclaimed, “ but will you tell me where I am? | “ Certainly ; in Mr. Crab’s private madhouse.”’ *¢ And how long have I been here?’ demanded the horror-stricken Gridley. “© About three months.”’ ‘* Ts it possible ?”’ “Very.” COMICHOO! SS (SO