‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. \" \"I'm sorry I didn't call. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively. She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. Not wisely but too well.
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