The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further
inquiry. 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 believe—you know it," replied Jonathan, fixing one of his sternest and
most searching glances upon him. Maggot, laughing. Once more he was the
searcher.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4xODkuMzcgLSAzMC0wNi0yMDI0IDA3OjQwOjQ0IC0gMTI3NjA0MjYxNQ==
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 09:59:03