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. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill.
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