The eminent painter had handsome, expressive features, an aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner. 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. Shari was snoring, the pill having worked its magic. " "I see through your design, Jack," returned the carpenter, gravely; "but I don't like under-hand work. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage.
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