With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. Having now fairly got out of Newgate for the second time, with a heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened to make good his escape. But Darrell averted his head. 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. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. ‘It did not seem to me that it was so.
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