But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! III. “I like to think of your offer. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. She was fine and tender. Brendon felt his arm seized.
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