Homosexuals weren’t looked too kindly upon in their exclusive suburban neighborhood, not even dashing handsome ones. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “So far you’ve got me and I you. . "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL.
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