"To-morrow I will take you to him. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. 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. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night.
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