” She laughed. I can help you to both,—nay, I will help you to both, if you do not interfere with my plans. She peered into the darkness. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth, OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth: There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up, And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup! For a can of ale calms, A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! "Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 23-08-2024 04:23:51
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