He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. “That is where I got confused,” he said. An avid reader in many genres, I love to share books that have given me much pleasure. . “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. . Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. “You certainly are. . .
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