The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1916-12-04
old NICK's LEGACY
BY MABEL s. MERRILL.


great-nepIew, Nicholas Wye, nothing
but the shop IN the orchard and the
contents Of the same"
Nicholas Wye, better known as old
Nick, though he was neither old nor
malicious, sal On the orchard wall and
looked thoughtfully at the little wealth
er.blackened building which was his
sole share IN the goodly estates be-
longing to the Wye homestead on the
hill. Then he looked down ut the
newspaper in his hand with its black
headline. The editor of the Bowen
vile Herald had thought old man
Wye's win such a humorous document
that he had made a front-page story
about Old Nick and his legacy.
Nick crumpled the paper and tried
to cram it into his pocket as light
step came down the road. He knew it
was Floris Hanson coming home from
her labors at the little old schoolhouse
down the late. Somehow Nick always
happened to be around somewhere
seldom ventured to speak to her.
To Nick's surprise Floris stopped
today and spoke to him. She had a
copy Of the Herald in her hand and
her eyes were sparkling Indignantly.
"It's a shame, Mr.. Wye" she de-
cIared. "That editor ought to be pros
ecuted and so had your uncle-oh, no,
/ forgot he is dead. Well, anyway,
--we-all know you're not blot and
total failure"
"Well, you see, that was Uncle Zeb's
way O. looking at it," explained Nick
good-naturedly. "All the Wye's had
worked like time and saved every cent
till came along. I've had to hunt and
fish and loaf enough to make up for
all they missed"
When FIoris had gone on her way,
he got off the wall and grayely in
spected the shop, the only piece of
property he had ever owned. 1t was
a rough, solid little building, its two
rooms well lighted by big windows,
for Uncle Zeb had used it for paint
shop. 1t was empty save for heap
of rubbish in one corner.
''Now, If he'd left me a little some
thing to begin the world on, how'd he
krow but I'd reform?" mused Mich
olas, pulling over the heap. Hello,
what's this2'
t. ,uac a S,,hcfou+io1 loo of xuhita
paint, with smaller one of green
resting atop of it. Old Nick was a
humorist in his way, and his eyes be-
gan to twinkle as he examined this
find.
The next afternoon when Floris
passed she stared in amazement. In
this shady orchard corner, the little
building, painted clean white with
small stripe OF dark green for finish,
looked like the fairy house she had
sometimes seen In her dreams when
her boarding place in the village was
worse than usual. Nick was inside
painting the woodwork. With a wom-
ans interest in beauty and cleanli-
ness, Floris stepped along to the door
and looked in.
"Oh, Mr.. Nicholas" she exclaimed,
"youre making it just lovely Don't
have thing, will you, but the clean
white and green? Why you are an
artist, and you've never let us find it
outi'
1t was not long before the fairy
house in the orchard attracted the at
tention of others beside the school
mistress. He built little piazza and
tiny paint shop out by the wall in
which to keep his pals and brushes
and other litter. For it was plain now
that the old shop was shop no longer.
Through the clean front window Curl
Gus passers-by could see a papered wall
hlossoming with half-opened rosebuds
in a mist of green leaves.
Every afternoon Nick was waiting to
ask the advice of the school mistress
about this or that. One day he took
her into his confidence about his plans
for the future-for it developed that
Old Nick had plans for the future at
last. Whatever they were, Floris en-
tered into them with such enthusiasm
that the very next morning the aston
isIed town spied a green and white
board hanging outside the little new
shop over by the wall, 1t bore the le-
gend:
NICHOLAS WYE, SIGN PAINTING
AND OTHER FINE WORK.
And in the shop the artist had speci-
mems of his skin to show to inQuirers.
result was a rush of custom which
promised to last.
sMade seven dollars today" Old
Nick informed Floris one afternoon
when she looked In at the cottage"
on her way home. 'sThere1l be work
enough. and I've always been looking
for some job that wasn't too steady to
let me go fishing more or less"
'I'l go with you,p vowed Floris with
a long breath. "Only think, Nick, Of
sun and air and freedom after five
years of that stuffy schcolhouse. / like
liberty and a trout brook as well as
you do. And housekeeping in two
rooms isn't going to hinder much"
''Then you amt repented yet?' asked
Il laid awake half the night