She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing. “But about last 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. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. " "I'm a doctor.
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