Lev Smith now awaited the settlement of Uncle Gunter's affairs in grief and solicitude. Another party also awaited the upshot of the matter, with due solemnity and expectation, and that party was Polly Williams, Lev's "intended," and her poor and miserly dad and marm, who knew Lev Smith, as they said, was a lazy, lolloping sort of a feller, but sure to get all that his poor, miserable uncle was worth in the world, and therefore, with more craft and diligence, if possible, than Lev practised, the Williamses set Polly's cap for Lev, and who, in turn, was not unmindful of the fact that Williams "had something" too, as well as his two children, Polly and Peter. Things seemed indeed bright and propitious on all sides. The day came; Lev was on hand at Squire Cornelius's, to hear the will read, and the estate of the deceased settled. As usual in such cases in the country, quite a number of the neighbors were on hand--old Williams, of course. "He was a queer old mortal," began the Squire. "But a good man," sobbed Lev Smith, drawing out his bandanna, and smothering his sharp nose in it. "A good man, 'Squire." "God's his judge," responded the Squire, and a number of the neighbors shook their head and stroked their beards, as if to say amen. "Joseph Gunter mout have been a good man and he mout not," continued the Squire; "some thinks he was not; I only say he was a queer old mortal, and here's his will. Last will and testament of Joseph Gunter, &c., &c.," continued the Squire. "Poor, dear old man," sobbed Lev. "Poor _dear_ old man!" "Being without wife or children," continued the 'Squire. "O, dear! poor, dear old man, how _I_ shall miss him in this world of sorrow and sin," sobs Lev, while old Williams bit his skinny lips, and the neighbors again stroked their beards. "To comfort my declining years--" "Poor, _dear_ old man, he was to be pitied; I did all I could do," groaned the disconsolate Lev, "but I didn't do half enough." "Passing coldly and cheerless through the world--" continued the 'Squire. "Yes, he did, poor old man; O, dear!" says Lev. "Cared for by none, hated and shunned by all (Lev looked vacantly over his handkerchief, at the Squire), I have made up my mind (Lev all attention) that no mortal shall benefit by me; I have therefore mortgaged and sold (Lev's eyes spreading) everything I had of a dollar's value in the world, and buried the money in the earth where none but the devil himself can find it!" There was a general snicker and stare--all eyes on Lev, his face as blank as a sham cartridge, while old Williams's countenance fell into a concatenation of grimaces and wrinkles--language fails to describe!