The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1872-04-23

kindness are enough to melt hearts like
Hester's. However, when she saw Bob,
her grief abated in series of intense
bushes aud shy dimples about her mouth.
That gallant young fellow, whom half the
girls in Henrico county were in love with,
was quite awkward and silent, which made
me believe him entirely in earnest, and
think all the better OF him. left them in
the parlor, and went up to the chamber,
where old Pierse was growing and swear
ing to the confusion ofspirit of half dozen
blacks.
! Pierse, his growls, or his oaths have moth
ing to do with my story; SO suffice it to
say that the will was made, leaving the
property, as was just, to Hester, with the
exception of some legaoies, and was duly
witnessed by the doctor and Jones, the
overseer. heard Jones, rough old rowdy
as he was, mutter thank God as he
scrawled down his name. kissed Hester's
thin cheek heartily as l came down, and
marched Master Bob off with me. The
fellow was SO lost in rapture or sulkiness
that he said nothing the whole way into
town. He never once thought of the will,
honestly believe. One thing annoyed me.
Pierse kept the will him self, "To have a
hold on the girl, I" he said, and there was
no calculating on his moody fits.
He lived four weeks after this. All ne
and debblishness," which Pine occasion
I
ally forgot his high enough to re-
peat, when the younger servants were out
of hearing, coupled with sympathy for
"dat chile lef' to such 'God-forsaken'
wretch" At last one morning, as Jim was
shaving me, Pine came in fresh from the
morning paper, announcing that, "Bress
de Lord, old Pierse was done gone at last. "
/ glanced over the notice of "the lament
ed death of our highly respected fellow
citizen" while at breakfast, and then drove
out to the Pierse plantation. There was a
crowd before me; undertakers, negroes and
down stairs, Hesters friends (she had true
ones of her own, and the heiress of two
plantations and eight hundred slaves was
likely to have enough), Pierse's first at
torney, up in the drawing-rooms, and bust
ling women everywhere. / sent for uncle
joe who had been the constant attendant
of the dead man, and was his only mourner,
l fancy.
"Is the will safe, uncle ?" / asked.
"Tink SO, massa," he said, anxiously.
MARS KEEP it in dat black box nm had un-
der his bed but um were cranky-beyond
belief at de lass. Lord knows what um's
done"
saw something weighed on Joe's mind
and beckoned him aside He drew some
thing mysteriously from his pocket. 'l
"When ole Mars died. dis key wor in
his trousers pocket. 1t opens dat curious
box-and fought twas best to make sure
eff Go Wills dar, which um good Lord grant!''
The box was curious, as Joe said, a black
casket lined with abestos, fastened by a
peculiar lock. / remembered the old man
had put the will in it, looking at some
bank bills it contained with chuckle.
Brady, the lawyer Pierse had formerly en-
ployed, joined me in the library, where a
funereal lamp burned dismally.
"Rumor says you have will made late
ly, Mr.. Page" he said. ''I'm glad to hear
it. A more diabolical piece of injustice
than the one drew up it would be hard to
find. The whole property went to his
brother | mention this, sub rosa, of
course. Though it matters little, as the
deed is null"