‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can. 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. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the wall, "there's the spring!" He touched it, and the door flew open. But he would die if he continued in this course. ” Miss Stanley reflected as Ann Veronica went toward the house.
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