Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. The next morning came a compact letter from her father. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance.
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