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"I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. 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. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr.

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This video was uploaded to santiyecadirlari.net on 15-05-2024 12:09:19

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