‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. In one hand she carried
a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. 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. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. Thames Darrell
III. "
"Run along, then. "I hope you don't
imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken
countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears.
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This video was uploaded to serverharga.com on 03-07-2024 15:32:46