By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. "Here's the full, true, and particular account of Jack Sheppard's last astonishing and never-to-be-forgotten escape from the Castle of Newgate," bawled the hawker, "with a print of him taken from the life, showing the manner, how he was shackled and handcuffed. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. The next door neighbor's dog, chained outside, let out a single bark, but was silent as soon as she turned in that direction, instinctively afraid. “It’s very good,” she said. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. I was the last on board. Laughed at me, then.
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