” “I resent!” “I was only sorry I’d been so stupid. 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. Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. “I’d sooner condemn you to Hell. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. She could even think of what had happened. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head.
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