’ She jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. 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 in a little while you will awake; and if there is a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day's work. "She tells me there was a Kanaka cook; been in the family as long as she can remember. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her.
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