The Logan Republican. [volume] (Logan, Utah) 1902-1924, 1916-11-28
old NiCK'S LEGACY
BY MABEL S. MERRILL.

because he Is n total fullure ana
blot on the fair name of hardwork.
ing family, / give and bequeath to my
great-nephew, 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, sat on the orchard wall and
looked thoughtfully at the little wealth
er-blackened building which was his
sole share in the goCdly estates be-
longing to the Wye homestead on the
hill. Then he looked down at the
newspaper in his hand with its black
headline. The editor of the Bowen
vile Herald had thought old man
Wye's will such humorous document
that he had made front-page story
about Old Nick and his legacy.
Nick crumpled the paper and tried
TO cram it into his pocket as Il light
step came down the road. He knew it
was Floris Hanson coming home from
her lahors at the little old schoolhouSe
down the late. Somehow Nick always
happened to be around somewhere
when Flors came along, although he
seldom venlurcd to speak to her.
To Nict's surprise, Floris stopped
today and spoke TO him. She had II
copy of the Herald in her hand and
her eyes We're sparkling Indignantly.
SITS a shame, Mr.. Wye" she de-
clarcd. "That editor ought to be pros
ccutcd and so had your uncle-Oh, 10,
l forgot lie is dead. Well, anyway, 1
--we-all know you're not a blot and
Il 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 Floris had gone on her way,
he got off the wall and gravely in
spected the shop, the only piece of
property he had ever owned. 1t was
u rough, solid little building, its two
rooms well lighted by big windows,
for Uncle Zeb had used it for a 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
know but I'd reform" unused Mich
olas, pulling over the heap. Hello,
what's this?"
1t was a substantial keg of white
|
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 a
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 wom-
ans interest in beauty and cleanli-
ness, Floris stepped along to the door
and looked in.
"Oh, Mr.. Nicholas" she exclaimed,
'you're 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 II
out!"
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
n tiny paint shop out by the wall in
which to keep his pals and brushes
and other litter. For 1t was plain now
that the old shop was shop no longer
Through the clean front window curl
Gus passers-by could see papered wal
blossoming with half-opened rosebuds
In mist Of green leaves.
Every afternoon Nick was waiting tc
ask the advice of the school mistress
about this or that. One day he tool
her into his confidence about his plans
for the future-for 1t developed that
Old Nick had plans for the future al
last. Whatever they were, FlOris en-
tered into them with such enthusiasm
that the very next morning the aston
ished town spled green and white
board hanging outside the little new
shop over by the wall. 1t bore the lie
gend:
NICHOLAS WYE, SIGN PAINTING
AND OTHER FINE WORK.
And In the shop the artist had speci
mems of his skill to show to inquirers
The result was rush of custom which
promised to last.
"Made seven dollars today" OLE
Nick informed Floris one Afternoon
when she looked in at the cottage
on her way home. "Therell be worl
enough, and I've always been looking
: for some job that wasn't too steady t
| Lot mo 90 fishing mora or Legs -