" "Of what am I accused?" asked Thames, who though a good deal alarmed at first, had now regained his courage. 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. But, if you have come to surrender yourself to justice, it is well. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. "I am an officer in the execution of my duty. I suspect she knew something, for she came home to Remenham House when she was increasing, and report has it that she was very unhappy. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. “He knows.
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