” She smiled at him. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. Maggot. “What’s going on with you?” John asked inquisitively, looking down at her abdomen. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. 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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