He shall expiate his
offences on the gibbet. “If they matter to you, they
matter. 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. “Yes. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a
deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. "
"Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan
Wild's foul insinuation crossed him.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 22-06-2024 08:03:22