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. Out of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager. " "Ay, and there's my liver. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. . The Father did not know of course about her connection with the Valades. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other.
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