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. ’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. “Really, Vee, you seem to have advertised our relations pretty generally!” “They—they knew, of course. Do not avoid me if we meet by accident, but I trust to you all not to let the accident happen if you can help it.
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This video was uploaded to freechristian.online on 29-05-2024 21:43:51
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