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. Always remember that. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see. "Could you get any of the music last night?" "Yes.
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