"Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. 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. Good-bye, Anna!” Annabel sprang up. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. ” He stood up with his legs parted in an inverted “V”, puffing up, trying to make himself look bigger. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing.
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