” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. That's the only fault I know of. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. 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. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 16:50:39