” He said. My boys buy them with beads or bolts of calico of mine. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. His exploits and escapes are in every body's mouth. 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. But it’s very beastly.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 18-05-2024 03:20:04
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