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. ” Frenchmen, they are different. Outside the door stood one of the soldiers. “I meant to say good-bye to you to-night. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjI0Ny41MyAtIDI4LTA5LTIwMjQgMTE6MzM6MzggLSAxMzcxOTg1OTM0
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 25-09-2024 02:01:00