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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. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. " "Make your choice," said Jonathan. You will find it somewhere in that book. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 19:44:28