" "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. You wanted to play a lone hand. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. " There were two Condemned Holds,—one for each sex. Smith, placing his hand on his breast. On these were thrown all the horrible contents of Jonathan's museum, together with the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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