“I’ve been playing since I was five, Lucy! You’re just more talented than I am. We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. Every minute I spend here is an education to me. It makes wonderful sentences that you can repeat in the City and are good enough for Punch. I don’t want to stop your singing. I’m sorry. Most of the time, he was hunting and he returned at night. 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.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 22-06-2024 07:48:59
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