” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. If the boy was legging it alone…. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. 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. 1.
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