“You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. “That is as you will,” she said. 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. "Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. 92 She did not notice the police car sitting near the Beck house until they were pulling into the driveway.
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