It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. ’ He glanced at the captain.
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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 01-06-2024 14:37:00
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