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. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. The air was crisp and dry. . ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. "You are free," said he, "that grating forms a ladder, by which you may descend in safety. ” He intoned. "Don't swear, Jack, or I shall distrust you. I will not be sent away. " "Oh! do not say so," replied his wretched parent.
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This video was uploaded to pornoduro.top on 01-06-2024 03:18:33
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