Stanley, “I am anxious. You could not have aided and assisted us more effectively by trying to drown yourself in the sea. 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. Boldly he turned the knob of a certain door and entered. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him.
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