"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the doctor. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment.
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