I just don’t know where to start. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. 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. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. Sheila was often a terror to her husband Mark, who seemed afraid of her. “No, I’m not a virgin.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 19-07-2024 09:03:09
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