” Obediently, Lucy placed the stone upon the mausoleum. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. 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. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. “You see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going.
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