Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood;
And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood;
A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows,
Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows,
Might tipple strong beer,
Their spirits to cheer,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
II. "Fifty now and fifty when I return. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. Jim is up to
the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes
letters worse than Alice. Three
times she escaped. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he
crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood
on it. "
Sheppard cordially returned the pressure; and, cautioning Thames, "not to let the
ruffles drop, or they might tell a tale," began to warble the following fragment of
a robber melody:—
"Oh! give me a chisel, a knife, or a file,
And the dubsmen shall find that I'll do it in style!
Tol-de-rol!"
"Vot the devil are you about, noisy?" inquired Abraham. “Wild
horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me
out. ”
The man smiled at him. "Do better in future. "
"Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. So far as I'm concerned, nothing could please me
more. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 16-07-2024 19:58:13