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. Few men could have done as much. . “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. You may go back, Marthe. Let us stay the night here.
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