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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. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. It loves to sit on your knee. “They told me D,” said Ann Veronica. ” She looked at him doubtfully.
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This video was uploaded to uggpascherfo.com on 21-09-2024 07:36:47
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