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. The first peg was torture. Sindlesham tried. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. "Thanks.
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