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‘Eh bien, you are
not like Leonardo. 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 had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been
summoned by that treacherous thief-taker. "I won't trouble you further, Jack," he remarked. The child was now
within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly
purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. I
love your very breath.
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This video was uploaded to casualcorneroutlet.net on 12-07-2024 20:36:55