Rhymes with reason and without

Now Mr. Smith, who had taken his leave,
Was a prudentish sort of a man;
He always said to prevent, not retrieve,
Was far the properest plan;
So, to hinder heart-burning and jealous hate
And contending heirs make still,
Before he surrendered himself to fate
He prudently framed a will.
But he kept it shut from mortal look,
Nor could any define its tone;
To the favored to-be 't was a close-sealed book,
As well as the destined-to-none.
So hope ran strong and hope ran high
In every degree of kin;
For virtues of Smith was breathed many a sigh,
But smiles were reserved for his tin.

Nor wife nor child
On Smith had e'er smiled,
To inherit the money for which he had toiled;

And he 'd no nearer kin than uncles or cousins,
But these he had in numberless dozens.
Now cold was his clay,
And appointed the day
When his will was to open in legal way;
And the summons was put in the “Post,” and all
Of the “next of kin” were invited to call
To see what share to their lot would fall;
And every heir
Had assembled there
From sea and land, and the Lord knows where:
There was Smith from the plain,
And Smith from the still,
And Smith from the main,
And Smith from the mill,
And Smith from the mountain,
And Smith from the mart,
And Smith from the fountain,
And Smith from the cart;
From the farthest off to the very near,
The Smiths all came the will to hear.

And they soberly sat
In neighborly chat,
Talking all about this and that,
While the clock near the door
Was watched more and more
As the minute-hand neared the hour of four—
The hour set when the opening seal
Their joy or their chagrin would reveal.

“Watch a pot and 't will never boil,”
Hasten time—'t is an up-hill toil;
Watch a clock for the hour to go,
'T is the weariest work a man can know;
And thus as they watched their patience waned,
Though not a voice of the mass complained,
For they thought it would n't be prudent to show
That they were aught anxious their doom to know.

Four struck at last, and, in eager array,
They gathered around an old man gray,
Who straightway out from its iron nook
Mr. Smith's very “last will” then took,
Nicely with black tape strongly tied,
With a huge black seal on either side.
The click of the shears, as the threads did part,
Went with a thrill to each waiting heart,
And then with anxious ear they hung
Upon every word from that old man's tongue.

His “soundness of mind”
And his creed were defined,
And then came the names to whom he was kind;
A cane to this,
And a box to that;
To one his dog,
Another his cat;
To this his buckles,
To this his hat;

Till, through the long list of legacies run,
The name of the heir was lighted upon;
When, in tones like the tones of a bell,
These were the words from his will that fell:—

“And further, I, John,
Have fixed upon,
To fill my place upon earth when I'm gone,
John Smith the tenth, to be my heir,
My house to maintain and my honors to bear.”

Now, here was a stew
To know what to do,
Or who the fortune had fallen to;
They could n't tell, were they to be shot,
For fifteen Johns were then on the spot;
And which was the tenth with the prefix “John”
They were sadly at loss to fix upon.
Then they argued the matter early and late,
But doubting grew with the growing debate.

And law-suits gathered, and fees flew free,
And juries tried it and could n't agree,
And fortunes were spent, till hope was gone,
In finding who was the favored John!
But they found instead that it would n't pay,
And so in court they allowed it to lay
In the dust and rust of years piled away.

A century is it since Mr. Smith died,
And his family name is scattered wide,

And towns have arisen upon his broad land,
Prosperity beaming on every hand;
A factory hums o'er his old hearth-stone,
But John Smith the tenth one was never known,
And John Smith's will will in chancery be,
Till Time is lost in Eternity's sea.

University of Virginia Library

OPENING OF THE LATE MR. JOHN SMITH'S WILL.

Or the evils of vagueness in specification, which the “writer” trusts may be avoided if ever a donation or legacy is meditated for him.