"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. 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. org/fundraising. ” She said under her breath. ’ It’s a duplicate of the French one. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. To be with you is the best moral tonic I know. " "Where did you get it?" inquired Thames. ” Lucy’s nagging worry raised its own status to full blown alarm.
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