"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. 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. “Lucy, that is so sad. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. She sings twice a week at the ‘Ambassador’s’ and the ‘Casino Mavise’——” Sir John held up his hand.
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