. 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. They fell into step again. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. . Do so; and I am yours as heretofore. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. “Dear John,” she whispered.
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