Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. He had very nearly cleared the board, when a knock was heard below, and descending at the summons, he found his two janizaries.
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