"More than you'll pay for it, friend," snuffled the Jew. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. 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. It was locked. “Well, well, Martin.
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