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. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. good, miss. ” He replied cheerfully. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening. Everything in the world had changed for her. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. “I hope you are going to Carey House. I looked upon you from the first as the most promising of my pupils. It’s all right.
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