I asked you to go. 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’ll need that. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. ”
Ogilvy reflected. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon
the pavement. The man was
dangerous.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 21:17:01