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"We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. 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.
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