John, I have something to say to you. ’ She was too distressed to bear this. But no more of that. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy.
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