Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, 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! II. ” She smiled artificially as she scanned the audience and located John. \"Has that John asked you for a date?\" Cathy added. “Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it. I had nosebleeds that day and I got halfway up the rope before I fell off. At this moment, the bell began to toll in a peculiar manner, announcing the approach of the corpse.
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