Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. Maggot, bursting into a loud contemptuous laugh. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL.
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