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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. The Dawn
Pearl. She thought of Capes. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer;
even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. Sydney was strumming over
a new song which stood upon the piano.
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This video was uploaded to casualcorneroutlet.net on 30-06-2024 18:55:45