“Married already,” he said, with his mouth full. " Hastening to the Six Bells, Jack ordered some refreshment, and engaged a private room, where he remained till the afternoon absorbed in grief. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. ” “But that is ridiculous!” he exclaimed.
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