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To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. Whatever you need to do, it is your business. Here the ribs of a thousand pounds beating against the Needles— those dangerous rocks, credulity here floated, to and fro, silks, stuffs, camlets, and velvet, without giving place to each other, according to their dignity; here rolled so many pipes of canary, whose bungholes lying open, were so damaged that the merchant may go hoop for his money," A less picturesque, but more truthful, and, therefore, more melancholy description of the same scene, is furnished by the shrewd and satirical Ned Ward, who informs us, in the "Delectable History of Whittington's College," that "When the prisoners are disposed to recreate themselves with walking, they go up into a spacious room, called the Stone Hall; where, when you see them taking a turn together, it would puzzle one to know which is the gentleman, which the mechanic, and which the beggar, for they are all suited in the same garb of squalid poverty, making a spectacle of more pity than executions; only to be out at the elbows is in fashion here, and a great indecorum not to be threadbare. I'll forgive him if he does. Profligate women are never reclaimed. "Sir Rowland must be gone. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. He must be gone to dispose of the body. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 22-09-2024 10:13:02
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