” She made some inane response. 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. . Brendon. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. The villagers were thronging to church. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently.
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