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Updated: May 24, 2025
In brief, there came a day when his timber turned to gold. The name of Grimwell became a household word. It even penetrated to the secret crannies of Wall Street. Men who did not know oak from soft pine began to plead with him to be "let in on the ground floor."
Grimwell made gold out of his copper, just as he made it out of oak and pine and ash, and when he came to be three score years and ten he had so many dollars that, like Old Mother Hubbard, he didn't know what to do with them. It suddenly dawned upon him that there was no one to whom he could leave this vast accumulation unless he made peace with his past.
"Your uncle was a strange man. Have you never heard of Joseph H. Grimwell?" "Certainly. Every one has heard of him." "Well, your uncle was Joseph H. Grimwell, the millionaire mine-owner and lumber king. For fifteen years the name of Joseph Grimwell took the place of I beg your pardon! I did not mean to put it so abruptly, sir. Calm yourself! "All right," said Mr.
His lawyer and his doctor alone knew that Joseph Grimwell and Joseph Hooper were one and the same person, and they were pledged to secrecy. One of them drew up his will and the other made death as easy as possible for him. His nephew, poor wretch, buried him in a grave alongside a devoted sister, froze his ears while doing so and lost his job in the bank besides!
To their own and to his subsequent surprise, they DID put it away in a safe place, but forgot all about it until he walked in upon them fifteen years afterwards and revealed himself as the great and only Joseph H. Grimwell. Having once disinherited his children, he was then in the mood to reconsider his act, being alive to the fact that his days were numbered.
Instead of proclaiming himself to be the Midas-like Joseph Grimwell, he appeared before his son and daughters, as poor old Joseph Hooper, their long lost father, as poor nay, even poorer than when he went away, for he had lost the rugged health that was his only possession at the beginning of his vicissitudes.
It is relevant to dwell only upon the contention that riches come swiftly to him who makes use of both hands without caring whether the left knows what the right is doing or the other way about. At any rate, Joseph Grimwell was a better man than Joseph Hooper ever had been, and he was a wiser man in many respects than Solomon the historic.
People thought he was buying up town-sites and smiled smugly among themselves as they discussed the dreadful shock he was to have when the time came for him to begin clearing away the timber! All this time he was known as Joseph H. Grimwell. There was no such person as Joseph Hooper. That discredited individual had died, so to speak, by the wayside, a vagabond.
Bingle when his wife took her extraordinary stand, and not before. He wilted like a faded flower in the face of this blighting calamity. On the morning of the sixth of July, a pompous old gentleman rang the front doorbell at Seawood, and inquired for Mr. Bingle. He turned out to be the principal lawyer employed by Joseph Hooper's son and daughters in their fight for the Grimwell millions a Mr.
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