By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. "Always plenty to spare. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. Trifle useful?" he added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand.
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