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I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. . She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. 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. “There is no time for that. He will be here in a moment or so, and you will then learn his determination.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 20:03:50