The Lancaster gazette. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1846-1852, 1850-03-22
ANIRIsn WILL.

fighting between themselves who SHOULD
have the old mans money. Finally Mat
cleared out and listed, leaving his broth
er Peter in possession ofthe field. The
old man died but refused to make will,
declaring that the property should be
fairly divided between the two suns.
This did not suit Peer; so as soon as
the old man breathed his last, only Peter
heing by. he remembered that Gun.
Cregnn's father looks very like the de-
funci OF he goes. calls up the elder
Cregan. and offers him FIVE golden guin-
cas- If he will personate the dead man
long enough To make a. will bequeathlng
all To Peter. Cregan yields. is put in
the de d mans he'd, aud neighbors sum-
moned Ii is at night. and the room not
we'll lighted N"body suspects the
fraud. and Cregan proceeds 10 direct the
will.
Where's Bill Scanlan? | want to
make my will!'
He's here, father said Peter, taking
Billy by the hand, and leading HIM to the
bedside.
Write what bid ye, Billy. and be
quick. for hayn't long time before me
here.-I die good Catholic. though
father ORaHery won't give me the
"ritesp'
A general chorus Of muttered - Oh,
musha, musha." was nOw heard through
The room; but whether in grief at the sad
fate of the dying man, or ofthe unflnch-
ing severity of the priest, is hard to say.
i die in piece with all my neighbors,
and all mankind!'
Another chorus of the company seemed
to approve these charitable expressions.
Il beguearh unto my son Peter and
never was there better sob. or a de
center boy!-have you got that downl
| hegueath unto my son Peter the whole
of my two farms of Kilimundcorney and
Knock she boora with the falow meadows
behind Lynche's house. the forge and the
right Of turf on the Dooran bog. l give
him-and much good may it do him.
Laury Cassarn's acre and the Laury field,
with the lime kiln; and that reminds me
that my mouth is jus, as dry; lot me taste
what ye have in the jug"
Here the dying man took a very hearty
pull and seemed considerably refreshed
by it.
Where was |, Billy Sconlanl' says he;
oh, remember, at the lime kiln; leave
him-thal's Peter. mean-the two po.
tatoe gardens at Noonan's. Well, and
sure it is the elegant fne crops grow
there"
Amt you getliu' wake, father. darlinl
says Peter, who began to be afraid of my
fathers loquaciousnes for 10 say the truth
The punch got into his head, and he was
greatly disposed to talk.
i am, Peter. says he; 81 am getting
wake; just touch my lips again with the
jug; All, Peter. Peter, you walered the
drink!
mo. indeed, father, but it's the taste il
leaven' you, says Peter and again low
chorus of compassionate pity murmered
lnIbubH tnt ChUIH.
We'll, I'm nearly done now, says my
father; there's only one little plot o
ground remaining. and put it on you
Petor-as ye wish to live good man
aud die with the same easy heart | dc
now. that ye mind my last words, do y,
hear? Are you listening? Are the neigh
bors Iisteningl Is Billy Scanlun listen
ingP
"Yes. sir. Yes, father, We're all
minding,' choruscd the audience.
Well, then, it's my last will and tes.
lament, and may--give me over the jug
- here he took long drink-'and may
that blessed liquor be poison to me. if
am not as eager about this as about every
other part of my will; | say then, be
qneath the little plot at the cross-road,
lo poor Con. Cregan for he has a heavy
charge, and is as honest aud hard. work
ing man as ever | knew. Be frienc
to him, Peter. dear, never let him wan
while ye have it yourself, think of me ol
my des,h'bed whenever he asks you fol
any iriAe. Is it down, Billy Scanlan
the two acres at the crossroads to Con
Ciegan, and his heirs, in secia secIoruml
Ah, blessed be the saints! but feel my
heart lighter after tha,!' says he. "a good
work makes an easy conscience; and
now III drink the company's good health
aud many happy returns -
What he was going to say there's nj
knowing, but Peter. who was now terri
bly, frightened at the lively tone the sick
man was assuming, hurried all the peo.
pie away into another room, 10 let his
father die in peace.
When they were all gone, Peter slip
ped back TO my father, who was putting on
his brogues in corner, Con" said he
'ye did all well but sure that was a joke
about the two acres at the cross
'Ofcourse il was, Peter, says he, sure
it was all a joke for the matter Of that
won't | make the neighbors laugh hearty
tomorrow, when | tell them all about il.
You wouldn't be mean enough to he
tray me-" says Peter trembling with
fright.
Sure ye wouldn't be mean enough tc
go again your fathers dying wordsl' says
my father; "the last sentence he ever
spoke" and he gave low, wicked laugh
that made myself fshake with fear.
Very well, Con-, says Peter, holding
out his hand, "a bargain; yer deep fel
low that's al;' and so it ended. and my
father slipped quietly home over the bog
nightly well satisfied with the legacy he