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. He kissed her again. What’s the name of the happy man?”
Gwen owned to “Fortescue. . "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew
to be like a disease, something to be cured. "
Internally, it was divided by two long galleries, one over the other. "
"It was the knowledge of this feeling on your part, my love, that made me act
without your express sanction. When gallant TOM SHEPPARD to Tyburn was led,—
"Stop the cart at the Crown—stop a moment," he said. That blow made me a thief. . The cause of
this uproar was soon manifest. ”
She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 24-06-2024 15:04:34