" "And what course do you propose to pursue in reference to him?" asked Sir Rowland. 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. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog.
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