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There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth, OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth: There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up, And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup! For a can of ale calms, A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! "Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. ‘You mean there isn’t any evidence of a break-in. “I wonder if you give me a thought.
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This video was uploaded to footporno.net on 26-06-2024 03:38:46
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