Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-11-07

|
 ''As Aice's twenty-first birthday drew near Edward became anxious for the wedding, and 1t was said that when partially intoxicated he urged Alice to set the wedding day a year sooner, and made himself so obnoxious that it was only her promise to her dead father that prevented a positive rejection. | "At length the time drew near for the important event. Just a week be- fore Alice's birthday I had dug that grave by the side of the path where that tall monument stands. I finished the digging just before night, for the burial was to take place early the next | forenoon.
 During the night we had heavy thunder shower, and in the morning when l came down everything looked unusually bright in the clear, morning sunlight came up the path and started back in astonishment to see a man lying in the bottom of the grave. On close examination it proved to be Edward-dead. He had probably wan dered aside from the path in the dark ness, and, falling, his head had struck the opposite side of the grave, break ing his neck.
 "I hurried down to the village for help; and there I found great excite ment prevailing. Squire Edmund's mansion had been struck by lightning the night before, and both the old gen. tleman and his invalid wife had been killed. One chimney was demolished and the end of the mansion badly shat tered, but no fire was discovered. "We carried Edward home, and the three bodies lay in state till the day of the funeral, when all were buried in the lot over there on the hill
 ''At the funeral Alice was accom- panied by fne-looking young man who was 8 stranger to all the towns people. Many conjectures were made as to who this stranger might be, es- pecially as he rode home with Alice in the Edmunds carriage.
 ''The next day after the funeral Alice received a note from the law yer summoning her to call at his office.
 "'Good morning, Miss Edmunds,' said Lawyer Atwood, as Alice ap- peared in answer to his summons: I beg pardon for intruding in the midst of your sorrow; but there is matter of business which must be attended to very soon. I believe your twenty-first birthday will occur next Monday, will 1t not?"
 Yes, sir,' answered Alice.
 "'And suppose you understand that tho desire of both your father and your uncle was that you and your cousin Ed ward should be married. and so keep the property in the family?'
 "AI do,' Alice replied.
 Now continued the lawyer, your Uncle Roberts will provides that Ed ward shall inherit all his fathers prop erty at the age of twenty-one. In case he died before that age it should come into your possession on your twenty. first birthday. That gives your uncle's half of all the property to you next Monday. But your fathers share stands in peculiar manner. In case of your death before the age of twenty one 1t was to go to Edward; that part of the will is clear; but knowing that the objection to tho union was all on your part, and wishing to make this union sure, your father intended to make provisions that if you passed your twenty-first irthday without marry ing Edward the property should pass into his hands. Of all this you are aware, but your father also willed that at Edwards death your portion of the
 
 go to the town to found hospital and public library.
 "'According to these provisions you would inherit your uncle's part of the property next Monday and your fathers part would go to the town"
 "Here the lawyer hesitated moment and then continued:
 "T don't like this way of forcing young people to marry against their will, and don't think promise wrung from one at such a time as your promise was made should be binding. l have studied your fathers will carefully, and find that the language used in the document leaves, by technicality, one chance for you to acquire the whole property.
 "'The will provides that if you pass your twenty-frst birthday without marrying" the property shall go to your cousin. Now, by slight oversight, it does not specify whom you shall marry
 And with pleasant good morning. the lawyer bowed Miss Alice out '"The next Sunday there was quiet wedding at the mansion on the hill, and it then transpired that the young | stranger was Richard Prescott. Jr And so the property was kept to- gether, and Richard and Alice lived in the old house surrounded by a family of boys and girls"
 Here the sexton paused and appeared | wrapped in memory. At length broke his reverie with the question:: And so the new grave is for Alice?' "Ycs," he answered, flor Alice; dear Alice. It was her last request of me that l should dig her grave myself" And what became Of the gardener" | I asked.
 l ''Oh! yes, yes, the gardener" he said, as If he but half understood my qucs- tion. And then rousing himself, he said: ''The gardener; well, you see Richard went to college and then my wife died, and couldn't bear to be alone, and so came back and became sexton of the town. Here l could be near the old home, and Alice always | came to see me often, and my life was