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Old columns

Stop, briefly, to look at the remains of another bungled empire and offer a toast to the longevity of great cultures and mighty nations. Then, offering sincere regrets that this one didn’t make it, we stagger on, through roofless halls of the dead. However, feeling rather too solemn, to cheer ouselves up, we sing and make animal noises until the time-crumbled columns and century-ravaged pillars ring with the sound of horses whinnying, chickens squawking, elephants trumpeting and, as Mahalath can accurately imitate wart-hogs and seals, the snuffling of wart-hogs and the incessant barking of seals resound amongst the year-cracked walls and broken arches, and the noises combine and reform until the columns vibrate to the quacking of a monumental duck.  As this is likely to attract unwanted attention, we rush on to Jock Black’s party as quickly as possible.

Professor Humperdink’s Diary