In the top floor of the wooden house, there is a large bedroom. Every corner is filled with books, pamphlets, cheap novelty items, and knickknacks. In the middle of this squalid nest, a little voice is heard laughing out loud:

Evaluation of the situation.
Enumeration of things and beings lost on the way.
Sort of summing up.
Warnings and announcements.

Inventory of all the stuff found in the boot.
Lost album cases smashed.
Exhibitions and displays.
The exhibition in the room on the top floor.