Currie.  Ah! we must all die, brother Swipes; and those who live the longest outlive the most.

Swipes.  True, true; but, since we must die and leave our earthly possessions, it is well that the law takes such good care of us.  Had the old lady her senses when she departed?

Cur.  Perfectly, perfectly.  Squire Drawl told me she read every word of the will aloud, and never signed her name better.

Swipes.  Had you any hint from the Squire what disposition she made of her property?

Cur.  Not a whisper; the Squire is as close as an underground tomb; but one of the witnesses hinted to me that she had cut off her graceless nephew, Frank, without a shilling.

Swipes.  Has she, good soul, has she?  You know I come in, then, in right of my wife.

Cur.  And I in my own right; and this is no doubt the reason why we have been called to hear the reading of the will.  Squire Drawl knows how things should be done, though he is as air-tight as one of your beer barrels.  But here comes the young reprobate.  He must be present, as a matter of course, you know. [Enter Frank Millington.] Your servant, young gentleman.  So your benefactress has left you at last.

Swipes.  It is a painful thing to part with old and good friends, Mr. Millington.

Frank.  It is so, sir; but I could bear her loss better had I not so often been ungrateful for her kindness.  She was my only friend, and I knew not her value.

Cur.  It is too late to repent, Master Millington.  You will now have a chance to earn your own bread.

Swipes.  Ay, ay, or the sweat of your brow, as better people are obliged to.  You would make a fine brewer’s boy, if you were not too old.

Cur.  Ay, or a saddler’s lackey, if held with a tight rein.

Frank.  Gentlemen, your remarks imply that my aunt has treated me as I deserved.  I am above your insults, and only hope you will bear your fortune as modestly as I shall mine submissively.  I shall retire. [Going:  He meets Squire drawl.]

Squire.  Stop, stop, young man.  We must have your presence.  Good morning, gentlemen; you are early on the ground.

Cur.  I hope the Squire is well to-day.

Squire.  Pretty comfortable, for an invalid.

Swipes.  I trust the damp air has not affected your lungs again.

Squire.  No, I believe not.  But, since the heirs at law are all convened, I shall now proceed to open the last will and testament of your deceased relative, according to law.

Swipes. [While the Squire is breaking the seal,] It is a trying thing to leave all one’s possessions, Squire; in this manner.

Cur.  It really makes me feel melancholy when I look around and see everything but the venerable owner of these goods.  Well did the Preacher say, “All is vanity.”