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. This morning his entourage (as he jestingly called it) consisted of the girl, two spinsters (Prudence and Angelina Jedson), prim and doubtful of the world, and the young man who appeared to be considerably the worse for the alcohol he had consumed. "Leave me, Sir; I insist. "All's over," muttered Jonathan. “Always planning for death. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. ” “Call it what you like,” Anna answered. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille.
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