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UIM7ERSIT7
I looked for the shot-gun on the wall but it was
gone ; a fancy-picture too had disappeared, or possibly,
I had only dreamed that such a picture hung on the
wall across by the window. The pistols had been
taken away, too, from the stand, and the bowie-
knife was gone. There was only a book on the
stand a brown, old, leather-bound book. The
decanters had been taken away, and a short junk-
bottle stood there, doing service for a vase, with a
bunch of wild autumn blossoms, and a green fir-twig
or two to relieve the yellow of the blooms.
