" "I'm a doctor. He told me that he was a millionaire. 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. To reach the door they had to pass the end of the table, and behind the chair where Mr. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window.
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