Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. She's my mealticket. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 15:54:23
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