By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. Kneebone smiled assent. He sprung out of the driver’s side and ran to her door. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over.
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