The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1881-02-25
THE MILLER'S WILL.

Bedford row is a spot that everybody
knows, but no one knows it better than
Mr.. Mandy, the famous solicitor.
People meeting him only on legal busi-
ness, consider him dry, cautious man
far more disposed to question than an
swer or pass an opinion; but at his own
home, where / have seen him at times,
he is very different. If on quiet even
ing there are only a comfortable pair,
or, at most, trio of friends present,
Mandy unbends, and at once becomes
the most genial and frank of hosts. He
can tell many.stories OF his curious ex-
Ueriences and difficult cases.
About the neatest and most curious
case of fraud I ever handled" he said,
twas in connection with testy old client
of mine, a miller by trade. He had
made deal of money, and didn't know
what to do with it. The mans name
was Stokes-Matthew Stokes.
Zone day be called upon me, and said
he wanted to ask my opinion upon
some matter, but / soon found he had
made up his mind what to do, and the
asking my opinion was only his way oi
getting me to carry out his ideas. he
went into his story with great energy
and bitterness. He was worth thou
sands he said-that ] knew-all in.
vested, and his only heir was his
daughter, an only child, who had ag-
gravated him by eloping, and marrying
one OF his clerks, named Morley. The
clerk was one of those good-looking
whipper snappers,' the old man said,
with passion. Never could see any
thing in him but impudence and talk
kind of cleverness that would have
helped to make him good showman--
but she thought him. heavenly; and
after they got to love each other, as he
said, If his impudence didn't write to
me, asking ne 10 give him my daughter
in marriage!' l gave him his notice at
once, and a fortnight's wages; bat that
didn't cure the silly girl. She took to
moping and melancholy.
'"One day / found that she had
eloped and the next, be sent me word
that they were married. l felt it awfully.
/ tell you, and could have killed him il
I'd met him that day, and her too, al
most. They're miserably poor, that's
one comfort, though he's ir place and
does copying at night, and they've some
children and lots of trouble; so ] ought
to be happy if amt. But here's the
danger. I'm getting old, and my doctors
says ! might be taken Of suddenly, so l
want you to make my will, strong and
hrm as you can make 1t, doing her out
OF the least chance of getting my money
cutting her of with shilling, as it is
called
80 Seeing you have no other relations
for whom you care, do understand you
wish the money left to charities p Isaid,
not liking my task over well, for / had
no doubt that ii the poor daughter had
been there, she could have given quite
a different look to the love story.
"'To charityP No, hang charity he
cried with snort. | want it all given
10 Henry Gunson, cousin of mine
in the city. / don't care twopence
for him, and know little about him, but
he once did me kindness. It's all the
same TO me who gets the money, 30 as
they don't get it. See p
Il did see perfectly, but thought l
- .culd try to alter his determination, for
one thing displeases me more than an
other, il Is to be the means of carrying
dissnnsion and hatred beyond the grave.
Could he not, instead Of trying to crush
the young man who had married his
daughter, try to lift him upP From his
own account 1t appeared that he was
Woodworking diligent fellow, toiling
hard for his wife and children. What
moro could father wish for his son-in-
law p In word, ] tried 10 pour oil
upon the waters, but ] might as well
have poured II upon fire. The fury Of
the old man increased, and was even
turned upon me when | pointed out that
in commercial circles the cousin, Henry
Cunann. Of whom he had spoken, was