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’ ‘So I heard. 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. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. ” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily.

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This video was uploaded to choigaigoi.net on 19-05-2024 08:39:05

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