and a daughter offends the
sentiment of the people and of judges and jury, and the law makes such
a will invalid, unless a reason is given. Fortunately your uncle has
placed his reasons on record. I have a copy of the will here, and can
show you the clause." He took it from his pocket, and read as follows:
"'I exclude my daughter, Jocelinda Wells, from any benefit or provision
of this my will and testament, for the reason that she has voluntarily
abandoned her father's roof for the house of her mother's brother,
Morley Brown; has preferred the fleshpots of Egypt to the virtuous
frugalities of her own home, and has discarded the humble friends of
her youth, and the associates of her father, for the meretricious
and slavish sympathy of wealth and position. In lieu thereof, and as
compensation therefor, I do hereby give and bequeath to her my full and
free permission to gratify her frequently expressed wish for another
guardian in place of myself, and to become the adopted daughter of the
said Morley Brown, with the privilege of assuming the name of Brown
as aforesaid.' You see," he continued, "as the young lady's present
position is a better one than it would be if she were in her father's
house, and was evidently a compromise, the sentimental consideration of
her being left homeless and penniless falls to the ground. However, as
the inheritance is small, and might be of little account to you, if you
choose to waive it, I dare say we may make some arrangement."

This was an utterly unexpected idea to the Zip Coon Company, and
Jackson Wells was for a moment silent. But Dexter Rice was equal to the
emergency, and turned to the astonished lawyer with severe dignity.

"You'll excuse me for interferin', but, as the senior partner of this
yer Ledge, and Jackson Wells yer bein' a most important member, what
affects his usefulness on this claim affects us. And we propose to carry
out this yer will, with all its dips and spurs and angles!"

As the surprised Twiggs turned from one to the other, Rice continued,
"Ez far as we kin understand this little game, it's the just punishment
of a high-flying girl as breaks her pore old father's heart, and the
re-ward of a young feller ez has bin to our knowledge ez devoted a
nephew as they make 'em. Time and time again, sittin' around our camp
fire at night, we've heard Jacksey say,--kinder to himself, and kinder
to us, 'Now I wonder what's gone o' old uncle Quincy;' and he never
sat down