Prudence twinkled at them, and reached out to pat Melusine’s hand. ” He took them out and showed her. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. 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. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. “And you brought her a man, I presume.
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