The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-08-21
DOROTHY DIX TALKS
BY DOROTHY DIX
worlds Highest Paid Woman Writsr.

Your CnlI0ren'S lnner1tance.-1.
1t is generally conceded that one of
the most agreeable indoor sports is
making your last will and testament
Indeed, there are those who become
so addicted to this pleasant pastime
that they make a continuous perform
ance of it, and are forever altering and
changing their requests, adding codi-
ellis and revoking gifts. to the despair
of their legatees and the ultimate
profit of the lawyers.
While one makes a will, one has
the blessed satisfaction of sitting for
a time, at least, in the seats of the
mighty. One has favors to confer, and
it is the thought of what Uncle Eben-
ezer or old Aunt JeruSha, or grandpa,
or grandma has the power to write
down in his or her will that makes
many a cranky, grabbed, cantankerous
old man and woman a cherished guest
at the fireside of relatives, who could
MT see them thru a telescope if they
had nothing to leave behind when they
went hence. Everyone who wishes to
be persona grata with his relatives in
his old age should cultivate the will
making habit, and let it be known that
he practices it in. secret.
Aside, however, from will making
being an elegant, graceful and fascin-
ating accomplishment, equally adapted
to both sexes, it strikes, in a way, our
balance sheet with life. 1t is the final
auditing of our account. 1t tells the
net result of all of our efforts, whether
we have anything to show as the result
of all of our toll and sweat and striv-
ing, or whether we have worked all
our days just for the days wage that
sufficed only for the day, and that we
go out of the world with hands as
empty as those with which we came in.
Nor is this all. Love enters into will
making, too. When we think of death
I,f
than that we can leave those who are
near and dear to US safe from want, nor
is there any other thought more tor
turing than the knowledge that If we,
who are the bread winners of family,
should die, our only bequest to those
nearer and dearer to us than life itself
would be want and poverty.
This is what makes the rich man
exult in making his will. and what
makes the poor man curse his fate
that he has nothing to leave his chill
dren. But the most valuable inher-
itances are not always expressed in
dollars and cents. and 1t is within the
laborer to leave his children a far
more valuable bequest than any mere
millionaire can will to his.
Money is not to be despised, aad 1t
| is a good thing when parents can
leave their children enough to tide
them over a rainy day, but even this
is of small worth unless it is accom-
panied by a spiritual inheritance,
whose value is not to be estimated by
any tax assessor.
Therefore. it behooves every father
and mother to stop AMI ask them
selves this question What shall I
leave my children when I die?
will I leave them a stainless
name? When people talk of my chill
dren, will they say: That is young
John Brown. con of old John Brown,
who was the straightest and most hon
| orable man I ever knew His word
was as GOOD as his bond. Never did a
shady thing in his whole Iife' Or
will they say: That Is Young John
| Brown, son of old John Brown, who
made a lot of money in queer ways.
Slick as a peeled onion. Used to rob
the widows and work children in his
factory and grind down the faces of
the poor. Left big fortune behind
him, and every dollar of it drips
| blood"
Will they say of your daughter:
Mary Jones is the daughter of the
sweetest, gentlest, most high minded
woman 1 ever knew Or Mary
Jones is the daughter of that flighty
little Mrs. Jones there used to be 50
much talk about. Her skirts were
pretty well despatched with mud, and
she literally killed her husband with
i her selfish extravaganza"