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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. " "What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. “How dared you do yourself this injustice?” “I did it for her sake,” she answered. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man. . Your uncle—our uncle is with him.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 24-09-2024 17:47:56