The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. “I do not blame him. 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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