She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. Winter came at the manor. 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. " "Arrested!" exclaimed Trenchard, drawing his sword. ’ ‘Compel me? You do not know me, monsieur.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 19-09-2024 15:10:53
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