" "Very well, sir. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. 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. " "Well, Jack," said Jonathan, who had looked at him with surprise not unmixed with admiration, "you are a bold and clever fellow, I must allow. I love you more. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings.
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