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. ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. I suspect she knew something, for she came home to Remenham House when she was increasing, and report has it that she was very unhappy. As he approached the gable of Mrs. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused.
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