Go on. There it is. 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. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. “I didn’t think you’d come. When you reach San Francisco, you can buy something more appropriate.
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This video was uploaded to severeporn.pro on 06-06-2024 04:33:40
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