Maggot, laughing. ‘Point it at me. "I declare you throw me into an ague. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. In this way, Jack was brought back to Newgate, and again chained down in the Middle Ward. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III.
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