. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. “It was perhaps my fault. "I can't help thinking of Jack Sheppard's speech to Mr. 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.
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