“Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. 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. Mischief bubbled up in her. ” Anna measured out the coffee. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. As this had been Mrs. " The Wastrel laughed.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 22-09-2024 05:02:22
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