Jim Sawyer ain't nothin' to be proud of,
and I don't blame the young man for not ownin' up even if Jim is his
uncle."
Quincy made another attempt to change the conversation. "Your daughter
is a very fine singer, Mrs. Putnam."
"Well, I s'pose so," said she; "there's been enough money spent on her
to make suthin' of her. As for me I don't like this folderol singin'.
Why, when she ust to be practisin' I had to go up in the attic or else
stuff cotton in my ears. But my son, Jehoiakim Jones Putnam, he sot
everythin' by Lucinda, and there wasn't anythin' she wanted that she
couldn't have. He's dead now, but he left more'n a hundred thousand
dollars, that he made speculatin'."
"Then your daughter will be quite an heiress one of these days, Mrs.
Putnam?"
She answered, "She won't get none of my money. Jehoiakim left her all of
his'n, but before she got it she had to sign a paper, a wafer, I believe
they call it, if you're a lawyer you ought to know what it was, givin'
up all claim on my money. I made my will and the girl who'll get it
needs it and will make good use of it.
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