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. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. “Oh, we are also under the spell,” he declared, “but I think that we are here mainly because it is cheap. He’s out in Phoenix last I heard.
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