Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both.
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