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It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the short distance to Stratton
Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and entered a pleasant woodpanelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in
Courtlaw’s burning fingers. 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. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New
Mint. "I'll be back in a minute. Saw the villain through the
keyhole. "Oh, Gemini!" she exclaimed. Fixing a ferocious and exulting look upon Jack Sheppard, he
exclaimed.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 11-07-2024 04:19:08