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” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber. 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. It was the beginning and the end of the transaction.
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