By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. "Gadzooks! I thought something was coming on; for when I looked at the weather-glass an hour ago, it had sunk lower than I ever remember it. " "My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence," replied Jack, humbly. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. I can't help looking at you frequently. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig.
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