I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. I will tell you our plans on the way to the station. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. 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. . She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors.
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