"

"This 'ere was copied from a pattern will what was bought for sixpence
up to Mr. Marsh's in town," said Jenny loftily. "It do begin, '_I,
M.N., bein' o' sound mind though infirm in body_'--Abel, d'ye see,
weren't infirm in body; he were as well as ever he were in his life,
poor chap, when he did set out."

"Well, let's hear," said Susan with a martyrised air.

"'I, Abel Guppy,'" resumed Jenny, "'bein' firm in mind and body, do
hereby state as I wish for to leave my sweetheart, Jenny Pitcher, if I
do die in this 'ere war, all what I've a-got in this world. The money
in the Savings Bank--'" Betty groaned and threw up her eyes to heaven;
Susan involuntarily clenched her fist; Sam's brow cleared.

"'The money in the Savings Bank,'" repeated Jenny unctuously, "'and
any bits o' furniture what belongs to I, more partic'lar the clock
over the chimney-piece, the two chaney dogs, and the warmin'-pan--'"

"Well, I never!" interrupted Susan; "them two chaney dogs my mother
bought herself off a pedlar that come to the door. I mind it so well
as if it were yesterday."

"Very like she did," returned Jenny sharply. "And when she died hadn't
Abel's father, what was her eldest son, the best right to 'em? And
when he went to his long home they was Abel's, and now they'm
mine--and the warmin'-pan too," she added defiantly.

"Well, of all the oudacious--" Susan was beginning, when Jenny cut her
short, continuing to read in a high clear voice--

"'And half-a-dozen silver spoons, also the hearth-rug what was made
out o' my old clothes--'"

"I'm--I'm blowed if you shall get the hearthrug," cried Susan
explosively. "That's mine whatever the rest mid be. Them clothes was
only fit to put on a scarecrow, an' I cut 'em up, and picked out the
best bits, and split up a wold sack and sewed on every mortial rag
myself; and I made a border out of a wold red skirt o' mine."

"And a handsome thing it is too, my dear," said Betty admiringly.

"They was Abel's clothes, though," said Jenny; "ye can't get out o'
that, Miss Vacher."

"No, but there's one thing _you_ can't get out of, Miss Jenny, so
clever as ye think yerself," cried the outraged possessor of the
hearthrug. "You be a-comed here on false pertences. Even if my nevvy
_be_ dead you han't a-got no right to these 'ere things now. He wrote
it plain, 'I leave 'em all _to my sweetheart_ if I'm killed.' Well,
you wasn't his sweetheart when he was killed--you was a-walkin' out
wi' this '