The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1870-04-05
THE IRISHMAN'S WILL.

lluliC snug DdSkeC near uHe nrC DuC /
didn't speak, for l was frightened. 1t
was still repeated louder, and then came
a cry Con Cregan; Con, say open
the door ! [ want you" [ knew the
voice well; it was Peter McCabe's; but
| pretended to be fast asleep, and snored
loudly. AT last my father unbolted the
door, and | heard him say, go, Mr.. Het-
er, what's the matter; is the old man
worse 2"
"Faix that's what he is; for he is
dead"
GLORY be his bed when did it hap
pen?'
" About an hour ago. said Peter, in a
voice that even from my corner, could
perceive was greatly agtated. He died
like an old hathen, Con, and never made
Il will !"
"That's bad" said my father, &" for he
was a polite man, and said whatever was
pleasing to the company"
at is bad" said Peter g but it would
be worse if he couldn't help it. Listen
to me now, Corney; | want yc to help me
III lllio bNAsillCSH anu lIClC nIG NV StNlti-
cas- in gold if ye do what l bid yc. You
know that ye were always reckoned the
image Of my father, and before he took
i'll yo were mistaken for each other every
day of the week"
"Anan." " said my father; for he was
getting frightened at the notion, without
well knowing why.
"Well, what | want is for yo to come
over into the house and get into bed
" Not beside the corpse ?" said my faith
er trembling.
"By no means, but by yourself; and
you're to pretend to be my father, and
that yo want to make yor will before ye
die; and then I'll send for the neighbora,
and Billy Scanlan the school-master, and
yell tell him what to write, leaving all
the farm and everything to me c-yo under
stand. And as the neighbors will see ye
and hear yer voice, it will never be be-
lieved but it was himself that did it,"
"Thc 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 cross with
yer pen under the name.
And the priest :" said my father.
My father quarrclcd 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
be all finished before daybreak."
My father did not lose much time at
his toilet, for he just wrapped his biz
coat round him, and slipping on the
brogues, left the house. sat up in the
basket. and listened till they were gone
some minutes and then in costume as
light as my parents, set out after them to
watch the course Of the adventure. |
thought to take short cut and be there
before them; but by bad luck | fell into
a bog-hole, and only escaped drowning by
Il chance. AS it was when | reached the
house the performance had already be-
gun.
think / see the whole scene this in
slant before my eyes as [ sat on little
window with one pane, and that a broken
one, and surveyed the proceedings. 1t
was large room, at one end of which
was bed, and beside it was table with
physic bottles, and spoons and teacups a
little further off was table, at which sat
Billy Seaman, with all manner Of writing
materials before HIM
The country people sat two and some
times three deep round the walls, all in
tently eager and anxious for the coming
event; Peter himself went from place to
place trying to smother his grief, and oc-
casonaIly helping the company to whisky
which was supplied with more than ac-
customed liberality.
All my consciousness of the deceit and
trckery would not deprive the scene of a
certain solemnity. The misty distance of
the haIflighted room; the highly-wrought
expression Of the country peoples faces,
never more intensely excited than at
some moment of this kind the low, deep
drawn breathings, unbroken by sigh or
a sob; the tribute of affectionate sorrow
to some lost friend, whose memory was
thuS forciblV hrOupht hock tboea ,vara