"I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. 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. Just my room. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. ” She refused.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 07:07:31
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