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. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. "Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. Wild never was the associate of thieves. My servant.
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