Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. “She has never 96 once contacted me. 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. . Without her, it was lonely. He had something across his knees. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 11-07-2024 15:32:38
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