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. "Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. "Call me Hoddy. She waited expectantly. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. She pushed.
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This video was uploaded to pornografico.mobi on 01-07-2024 22:32:30
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