Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1868-01-07
MISCELLAN Gus.
THE WILL.

1t was little after midnight that knock
came to the door of. the cabin. heard it
first, for | used to sleepin a little snug basket
near the fire; but didn't speak for was
frightened 1t was still repeated louder and
then came cry, "Con. Creagan; Con, 1
say open the door want you" 1 knew the
voice well it was Peter McCabe's; but
pretended to be fast asleep, and snored loudly
At last my father pnholted the door, and
heard him say !" Oh, Mr.. Peter, what's the
matter? is the old man worse?"
Fax, that's what he is; for he's dead p'
i" Glory be his bed when did it happen?"
" About an hour ago" said Peter in a voice
that even [, from my corner, could perceive
greatly agitated. i" He died like an old ha-
then, Con-. and never made will"
" That's bad, said my father, for he was
always polite man, and said whatever was
pleasing to the company.
'' 1t is had," said Peter, " but it would be
worse if we couldn't help it. Listen to me
now, Corney want you to help me in this
business; and here are five guineas in gold if
ye do what l bid ye. You know that ye were
before he took i'll ye were mistaken for each
other every day of the week"
I" Anan !' said my father for he was get
ting frightened at the notion, without we'll
knowing why.
" Well, what want is for ye to come over
into the house and get into the bed"
Not beside the corpse ?" said my father,
trembling.
"By no means, but by yourself; and you're
to pretend to be my father, and that ye want
to make yer will before ye die and then I'll
send for the neighboEg, ard Billy Scanlan,
the schoolmaster, and yell tell him what tc
write, leaving all the farm and everything to
me-ye understand And as the neighbors
will see We and hear yer voice, it will never
be believed but it was himself that did it''
The room must be very dark" says my
father
To be sure it will but have no fear
Nobody will dare to come nigh the bed, and
yell only have to make a cross with yer pen
under the name"
And the priest !" said my father.
" My father quarreled with him last week
about the Easter dues and Father Tom said
he'd not give him the rites; and that's lucky
now. Come along, now, quick, for we've no
time to lose; it must all be finished before
day breaks"
My father did not lose much time at his
toilet; for he just wrapped his big coat round
him, slipping on the brogues, left the house.
l sat up in the basket, and listened till they
were gone some minutes and then, in cos
tune as light as my parents, set out after
them to watch the course of the adventure
thought to take short cut, and get there
before them; but by bad luck fell into a
big hole, and only escaped drowning by a
chance. As it was, when I reached the
house, the performance had already begun.
l think l see the whole scene this instant
before my eyes as 1 sat on little window,
with one pane, and that q broken one, and
surveyed the proceedings. 1t was a large
room, at one end of which was a bed, and
beside it was table with physic bottles, and
spoons and teacups; a little further off was
another table at which sat Billy Scanlan, with
all manner of writing materials before him.
The country people sat two and sometimes
three deep round the walls, all intently eager
and anxious for the coming event. Peter
himself went from place to place, trying to
smother his grief, and occasionally helping
the company to whiskey, which was supplied
with more than accustomed liberality.
All my consciousness of the deceit and
tTickeTy could not deprive the scene of GER
tain solemnity. The misty distance of the
half lighted room; the highly wrought ex-
preston of the country peoples faces, never
more intensely excited thar at some moment
| of this kind; the low, deep drawn breath
ings, unbroken save by sigh or sob; the
tribute of affectionate sorrow to some lost
! .riend, whose memory was thus forcibly
! brought back; these were all SO real that, as
looked. q thrilling sense of awe stole over
me, and actually shook with fear.