‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. " Du Val was hang'd, and the next who came On the selfsame stone inscribed his name: "Aha!" quoth the dubsman, with devilish glee, "Tom Waters your doom is the triple tree! With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "Tut, tut, tut," he cried, "what a fool I am to be sure! I ought to have cut John, not Jack.
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