Jack looked towards the door. It just made me mad to the boiling point. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. “Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours. I call upon you to assist me in the apprehension of this person.
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