But suppose I go?” “Now, Veronica! No, no. I know why. You have made for yourself a unique place upon the stage. Ah! she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips. 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.
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This video was uploaded to theblogfullofgames.com on 19-09-2024 20:35:55
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