"Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. ” It was certain that he was not there. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. I might forgive him that, for he obviously taught her a good deal that she has found useful.
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