The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1868-02-26

ner, where the bed stood. seemed to cause
deeper stiffness and then, in silence
: where the buzzing of fly would have
) been heard, my father said:
where's Billy Scanlan2 want to
4 make my will.,'
"He's here, father" said Potter, taking
Billy by the hand, and leading him to the
bedside.
"Wpite; what I bid yc, Billy, and be
quick, for haven't long time before me
here. die good Catholic, though Fa.
ther o Rafferty, wont give me tire funeral
rites,
General chorus of muttered, 30 /!
musha. musha !" was now heard through
the room but whether in grief over he
sad fate Of the dying man, or the unflinch-
ing severity. of the priest, is hard to say.
IL die in peace with all my ncighbors,
and all mankind"
Another chorus of the company seemed
to approve these characteristic express
sions.
II bequeath unto my son, Peter,-and
never was there better son or decen-
ter!-have you that down? bequcath
unto my son Peter the whole of my two
farms of killmundoonrey and Knock
sheboora. with fallow meadows behind
Lynch's house. the forge and right of turf
on the Dooran bog give him-and
much good NAV it do hin-Lanty Cas-
sarn's acre and Laury fields, with the lime
kiln and that reminds me that my mouth
is just as dry. Let me taste what ye have
in the Jug"
Here the dying man took very hearty
pull, and seemed considerably refreshed
by it.
.Where was I, Billy scanlan ?" says he:
"Oh, I remember, at the lime kiln. l.
leave him-that's Peter, / mean-thc two
potato gardens at Noonan's Well, and it
il the elegant crops grow there"
"Ain't you.getting weak, father, dar.
lint ~ says Potter, who began to be afraid
of my fathers loquaciousness, for, to say
tho truth, the punch got into his head,
and he was greatly disposed to talk.
81 am, Peter, my son." says he, 81 am
getting weaker; just touch my lips again
with the jug. Ah! Peter, Peter, you
watered the drink"
"No. indeed, father, but it's the taste
that is leavin' you," says Peter, and again
low chorus Of compassionate pity mur-
murpd through the cabin.
"Wcll, Pm nearly done, now," says my
father, ''there's only one plot of ground
remaining, and l put it on you, Peter
az ye wish to live good man, and die
with the same aisy heart as do now
that ye mind my last words to ye here.
Are ye listening? are the neighbors lis
tenng is Seaman lstening?
"Well, then, it's my last will and tesla
ment, and may-give mo the jug'-here
he took a long drink-"and may that
blessed liquor-be poison to me if I'm not
as eager about this as any other part OF
; the will / say, then, bequeath the little
plot at the cross roads to poor Con, Gre
gan, for he has a heavy charge. and is an
honest and as, hard working man as
ever knew. Be friend to him, Peter
dear, never let him want while ye have it
yerselt-think of me on my death bed
whenever he asks ye for any trifle Is it
down. Billy Scanlan ?-the two acres al
! the cross roads to Con. Cregan and his
heirs in secla seclorim. All blessed be the
, saints but feel my heart lighter after
that" says he-"a good work makes an
easy conscience And now I'll drink all
tho company's good health, and many
happy retnrns-'
What he was going to add there's no
saying but Peter, who was now terribly
frightened at the lively tone the sick man
i was assuming, hurried all the people in
another room to 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,' says
he, "ye did it we'll, but sure that was n
Joke about the two acres as the cross"
"Of course it was, Peter" said he. "sure
it was all q joke for the matter of that
won't I make the neghbors laugh hearty
tomorrow when tell them all about it y
"You wouldn't be mean enough to be-
tray me-" says Peter, trembling with
fright.
'.Sure you wouldn't be mean enough to 60
against your own fathers dying words ?''
says my father "the last sentence he
ever spoke" and here he gave low
wicked laugh, that made myself shake
with fear.
"very WE'LL Con-" said Peter, holding
out his hand, "a bargains a bargain yer
deep fellow that's ALL" And SO it ended
and my father slipped over the bog
tmighty we'll satisfied with the legacy he
left himself.
And Thus wo become owners of the lit,
tie spot known to this day as Cons
Acre.
A NOBEL CoNsT1rUTIoN-Forin ingenui
ty and cool assumption, the Radical con.
stitution-makers in Arkansas must be
awarded the palm. The instrument which