To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video
Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. Here the ribs of a thousand pounds beating against the Needles— those dangerous rocks, credulity here floated, to and fro, silks, stuffs, camlets, and velvet, without giving place to each other, according to their dignity; here rolled so many pipes of canary, whose bungholes lying open, were so damaged that the merchant may go hoop for his money," A less picturesque, but more truthful, and, therefore, more melancholy description of the same scene, is furnished by the shrewd and satirical Ned Ward, who informs us, in the "Delectable History of Whittington's College," that "When the prisoners are disposed to recreate themselves with walking, they go up into a spacious room, called the Stone Hall; where, when you see them taking a turn together, it would puzzle one to know which is the gentleman, which the mechanic, and which the beggar, for they are all suited in the same garb of squalid poverty, making a spectacle of more pity than executions; only to be out at the elbows is in fashion here, and a great indecorum not to be threadbare. " "At Tyburn, eh, Mr. It surprised her she hadn’t thought of it before! She tried to explain that she was going to pay him forty pounds without fail next week. Just a friendly polite suggestion. I got three pounds, and there’s three on my watch.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNy45OS4xNTIgLSAzMC0wOS0yMDI0IDE3OjI4OjE1IC0gMTU3MjY2Mzk0
This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 28-09-2024 17:57:14