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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"Whirligigs"


A clerk brought in the file. The Commissioner seated himself and
wrote upon it in red ink. Then he rose to his feet and stood for a
while looking straight out of the window. The Land Office capped the
summit of a bold hill. The eyes of the Commissioner passed over the
roofs of many houses set in a packing of deep green, the whole
checkered by strips of blinding white streets. The horizon, where his
gaze was focussed, swelled to a fair wooded eminence flecked with
faint dots of shining white. There was the cemetery, where lay many
who were forgotten, and a few who had not lived in vain. And one
lay there, occupying very small space, whose childish heart had been
large enough to desire, while near its last beats, good to others.
The Commissioner's lips moved slightly as he whispered to himself: "It
was her last will and testament, and I have neglected it so long!"
The big brown cigars of Hamlin and Avery were fireless, but they still
gripped them between their teeth and waited, while they marvelled at
the absent expression upon the Commissioner's face.
By and by he spoke suddenly and promptly.
"Gentlemen, I have just indorsed the Elias Denny survey for patenting.
This office will not regard your location upon a part of it as legal.


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