He left me fifty
pound by will, and a hundred an' fifty to a heathen nigger; and how
that can be reconciled with Christian principle I leave you to
answer. But I bear 'en no grudge."
"What? They proved his will?" The Major stared at his portrait and
shivered.
"_In_ course they did. The man was blowed to pieces, I tell you.
'Tis written up on the pedestal. 'Take 'en for all in all'--or piece
by piece, they might ha' said, for that matter--'we shall not look
upon his like agen.' No, nor they don't want to, for all their
speechifyin'. I ain't what the parson calls a _pessimist_; I thinks
poorly o' most things, that's all; _and_ folks; and I say they don't
want to. Why, one way and another, he left close on twelve thousand
pound!"
The Major drew the bed-clothes maybe an inch farther over his chin
and so lay still, answering nothing, his eyes fastened on the bust.
Beneath its hyacinthine curls it beamed on him with a fixed
benevolent smile.
"Not that Hymen hadn't decent qualities, mind you," Cai Tamblyn
continued. "The fellow was plucky, and well-meanin', too, in his
way; and a better master you wouldn't find in a day's march. What he
suffered from was wind in his stomach. With all the women settin'
their caps at him he couldn't help it: but so 'twas. And the men
were a'most as bad. Just you hearken to this--"
Cai seated himself on the edge of the bed again, felt in his
breast-pocket and drew out a spectacle-case and a folded pocket-book;
adjusted the spectacles on his nose, slapped the pocket-book
viciously, spread it on his knee, cleared his throat, and began to
read:
"'As a boy he was studious in his habits, shy in company,
unflinchingly truthful, and fond of animals.
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