” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. 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. . “I can’t believe it.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 12-07-2024 02:44:14
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