The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 163: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_ @F LONDON. 161 suit tied up in a bundle under his arm. He sat down in his old place, by the side of his pretty Madge, and opposite to Mike. Although he had — been gone two hours, there Madge sat; she had not budged, neither had she opened her mouth, excepting now and then, to swallow a mouthful of gin. Her burning pipe was still between her teeth. Neither the tobacco, nor the gin, nor the rum, had produced the slightest effect upon her. Poor little Loo, on the contrary, overcome with drunkenness and fatigue, had fallen motionless to the floor. You are a great rascal, Mike, said Snail, to leave your wife in such a state. ' What is it that’ Loo wants? a little gin, and she would be as sprightly as you or [. He went round the table to his sister. Poor Loo, said he, she burns like a lump of hot eoke, She will choke if she lays so, with her head down. oo, Loo! < Loo put both her hands to‘her chest. Oh, oh! cried she, with a hollow voice, 1am on fire—I am on fire—here ! Your glass, Madge, cried Snail. | Madge handed him her glass, which was full of NY rum; he put it to his sister’s lips, who gulped it down at one draught. ‘ _ Some snuff, said Loo—I have had a good dance ——who will dance with me ?” The rum had deadened her sufferings for the oment; and the poor girl thought that she was ured, _ Attention, Mike, my boy, said Bob, niteeuty GComichbooks:com