"I'm quite at your disposal. "So much the better," rejoined Sir Rowland. 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. Whatever she does is minimized. I'll tell you what. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door.
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