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. ” “Is it necessary,” he said, “for me to tell you——” “Stop, please,” she said firmly. Were you born here, madame?’ ‘Mais non. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. ” “Rather! But I wonder why you don’t mean it?” “Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. The Return 231 II. . " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known.
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