A hot night in a Manchester rat pit
The pub's landlord nipped the rats’ spines with his own teeth to make sure they were dead
The gaslights in the backstreet beer house near Piccadilly were so dim that a policeman stepping inside would need to adjust his eyes to the darkness.
It would give the house’s patrons a few seconds to make a run for it before he had a chance to pick out their faces.
The landlord no doubt also hoped the gloom would make it harder for a “blue” to feel his …
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