“I’m sorry, though,” responded Ralph, “that they’s got to be a law-suit.  Couldn’t we make it so plain to her, some way, ’at I’m her son that we needn’t have any suit?”

“I am afraid not.  Even though she, herself, were convinced, she would have no right to distribute a portion of the estate to you against the objection of her daughter’s guardian.  There is no way but to get a judgment of the court in the matter.”

“Well, why couldn’t she jes’ take my part, an’ give it to her daughter’s guarden, an’ then take me home to live with her without any propaty?  Wouldn’t that do?  I’d a good deal ruther do that than have a law-suit.  A man hates to go to law with his own mother, you know.”

Sharpman smiled and replied:  “That would be a very generous offer, indeed; but I am afraid even that would not do.  You would have no right to make such an agreement before you are twenty-one years old.  Oh, no! we must have a law-suit, there is no other way; but it will be a mere matter of form; you need have no fear concerning it.”

The train reached Wilkesbarre, and Ralph and the lawyer went directly from the station to the court-house.  There were very few people in the court-room when they entered it, and there seemed to be no especial business before the court.  Sharpman went down into the bar and shook hands with several of the attorneys there.  The judge was writing busily at his desk.  After a few moments he laid his pen aside and read a long opinion he had prepared in the matter of some decedent’s estate.  Ralph could not understand it at all, and his mind soon wandered to other subjects.  After the reading was finished and one or two of the lawyers had made short speeches, there was a pause.  Then Sharpman arose, and, drawing a bundle of papers from his pocket, he read to the court from one of them as follows:—­

    “To the honorable, the judge of the orphans’ court of Luzerne
    county:—­

“The petition of Ralph Burnham, by his next friend Simon Craft, respectfully represents that the petitioner is a minor child of Robert Burnham, late of the city of Scranton in said county, deceased, under the age of fourteen years; that he is resident within the said county and has no guardian to take care of his estate.  He therefore prays the court to appoint a guardian for that purpose.

         &nb
sp;                 “Ralphburnham. 
    By his next friend, Simon craft. 
      Dated, Sept. 26, 1867.”

“Your Honor will notice that the petition is duly sworn to,” said Sharpman, handing the paper to the clerk, who, in turn, handed it to the judge.  There was a minute of silence.  The lawyers were all staring at Sharpman in astonishment.

Then, the judge spoke.

“Mr. Sharpman, I was not aware that Robert Burnham left more than one child living; a girl, for whom we have already made appointment of a guardian.”