" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. I will hold Hilary in check, never fear. There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth, OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth: There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up, And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup! For a can of ale calms, A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! "Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle. Jack fell on his knees beside her. ***** At sundown Spurlock was brought aboard and put into cabin 2, while Ruth was assigned to cabin 4, adjoining.
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