Hawkins.  “Second, that he shall be a good friend to my old horse Jim”—­(again slacking his head) he should have written James, sir.

Richard.  James shall live in clover.  Go on.

Hawkins. “—­and keep my deaf farm laborer Prodger Feston in his service.”

Richard.  Prodger Feston shall get drunk every Saturday.

Hawkins.  “Third, that he make Christy a present on his marriage out of the ornaments in the best room.”

Richard (holding up the stuffed birds).  Here you are, Christy.

Christy (disappointed).  I’d rather have the China peacocks.

Richard.  You shall have both. (Christy is greatly pleased.) Go on.

Hawkins.  “Fourthly and lastly, that he try to live at peace with his mother as far as she will consent to it.”

Richard (dubiously).  Hm!  Anything more, Mr. Hawkins?

Hawkins (solemnly).  “Finally I gave and bequeath my soul into my Maker’s hands, humbly asking forgiveness for all my sins and mistakes, and hoping that he will so guide my son that it may not be said that I have done wrong in trusting to him rather than to others in the perplexity of my last hour in this strange place.”

Anderson.  Amen.

The uncles and aunts.  Amen.

Richard.  My mother does not say Amen.

Mrs. Dudgeon (rising, unable to give up her property without a struggle).  Mr. Hawkins:  is that a proper will?  Remember, I have his rightful, legal will, drawn up by yourself, leaving all to me.

Hawkins.  This is a very wrongly and irregularly worded will, Mrs. Dudgeon; though (turning politely to Richard) it contains in my judgment an excellent disposal of his property.

Anderson (interposing before Mrs. Dudgeon can retort).  That is not what you are asked, Mr. Hawkins.  Is it a legal will?

Hawkins.  The courts will sustain it against the other.

Anderson.  But why, if the other is more lawfully worded?

Hawking.  Because, sir, the courts will sustain the claim of a man—­and that man the eldest son—­against any woman, if they can.  I warned you, Mrs. Dudgeon, when you got me to draw that other will, that it was not a wise will, and that though you might make him sign it, he would never be easy until he revoked it.  But you wouldn’t take advice; and now Mr. Richard is cock of the walk.  (He takes his hat from the floor; rises; and begins pocketing his papers and spectacles.)