’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. "I came to see Jack Sheppard, and I won't go till you point him out to me. 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.
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