"I give and bequeath," said Wolfert faintly, "my small farm--"
"What! all?" exclaimed the lawyer.
Wolfert half opened his eyes and looked upon the lawyer.
"Yes, all," said he.
"What! all that great patch of land with cabbages and sunflowers,
which the corporation is just going to run a main street through?"
"The same," said Wolfert, with a heavy sigh, and sinking back upon
his pillow.
"I wish him joy that inherits it!" said the little lawyer,
chuckling and rubbing his hands involuntarily.
"What do you mean?" said Wolfert, again opening his eyes.
"That he'll be one of the richest men in the place," cried little
Rollebuck.
The expiring Wolfert seemed to step back from the threshold of
existence; his eyes again lighted up; he raised himself in his bed,
shoved back his red worsted nightcap, and stared broadly at the
lawyer.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed he.
"Faith but I do!" rejoined the other. "Why, when that great field
and that huge meadow come to be laid out in streets and cut up into
snug building lots,--why, whoever owns it need not pull off his hat
to the patroon!"
"Say you so?" cried Wolfert, half thrusting one leg out of bed;
"why, then, I think I'll not make my will yet.
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