‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. “Leave them!” He yelled. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. 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. ’ ‘It was so,’ said Valade, becoming a trifle more fluent. ” “I suppose so. They either ran to see or ran for shelter.
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