The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1873-12-05
MAKING A WILL.
AN IRISH TALE.

AN IRISH TALE.
II was little after midnight that a
knock came 90 the door of our cabin.
heard il first. for used TO sleep in a little
snug basket near the fire; but | didn't
speak. for | was frightened. Ii was still
repeated louder. and then came a cry. ''Con
Cregan! Con. say. open the door! |
want YOU
knew the voice well: il was Peter
MCabe's; but | pretended 10 be fast
asleep, and snorcd loudly. At last my
father unbolted the door. "Oh. Mr.. Peter.
what's the matter. l. the ould man
wOrSey
''Faix that's what heis; for he's dead -
replied Peter.
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 greatly agitated. lie died like
AN ould heather. Con, and never made a
will -
That's bad" says my father, for he
was always polite man, and said what
ever was pleasing 10 the company.
" II is bad, " said Peter: "but il would
be- worse if we couldn't help it. Listen to
me now, COrney; | want ye to help me in
this business; and here are five gIIineas in
gold ifyc do what bid We. You know
that We were always reckoned the very inn
age of my father. and before he took in We
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.
Wen, what want Is for We 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 10 be my father. /
and that We want To make yer will /
before We die; and then i'll send for
the neighbors, and Billy Seaman. the
school-master. ven tell him what to write.
leaving all the iarm and everything to me.
We understand. And as the neighbors will
see We and hear yer voice. il will never be
believed but IL was himself that did it,
The room must be very dark" SAYS
my father.
40 be sure it will; but have no fear
Nobody will dare 90 come nigh the bed:
and yell only have 10 make a cross with
yer pen under the name.''
And the priest r said my father.
My fatheIquarreled.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; il must be all
finished before the day breaks
"All right. was the reply.
My father did not lose much time at his
toilet, for he just wrapped his big 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 a light as my pa
rents. set out after them To watch the
course Of the adventure. | thought To
take a short cut, and before them: but by
bad luck fell into a bog-hole. and only
escaped drowning by achance. Asst was.
when ! reached the house. the perform
ance had already begun.
| think see the whole scene this instant
before my eyes. as sat ona little window.
with one pane, and that a broken one, and
surveyed the proceeding. Ii was a large
room, at one end OF which was a bed. and
beside II was 4 table with physic bottles. ,
and spoons. and tea-cups: little further ,
OF was another table. at which sat Billy
Seaman, with all manner of writing ma /,
tcrlals 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 T,
place, trying to smother his grief. and oc- /;
helping the company to whisky. ,
which was supplied with more than accus-
toned libcmlity. ,
All my consciousness Of the deceit and ,
trickery could not deprive the scene of
certain solemnity. The misty distance of
the half-lightcd room: the highly-wrought I
expression Of the country peoples faces. q
never more intensely excited than at some 4
moment Of this kind; the low, dcep-drawn ,
breathing. unbroken save by sigh or |
sob: the tribute Of afiectionate sorrow TO i.
some lost friend, whose memory was thus I
iorclbly brought back; these were all 80 4
real, That, a. looked, a thrilling sense of :