" And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. They were those of the Irish watchman. She could not part with dignity. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. He struck out from the shoulder, and the man measured his length upon the pavement. 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 did not have to investigate that his door was locked. Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy. The latch had not fully caught.
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