Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. Trifle useful?" he added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand. 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. ” She replied. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good.
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