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Updated: June 7, 2025
His love for his people never ceased for one moment, and in his dying hour he left a bequest that all his people have understood and acted upon. Thus it has come to pass that the Welsh have been really unconquerable, by Saxon or Norman, or even in these twentieth century days by Teutons.
The gift to Chicago University was no doubt inspired in part at least by local pride; yet it was not the first nor the only instance of the donor's interest in educational matters. No one had taken greater interest in the bequest of James Smithson to the United States.
Betty was so deeply touched by this noble bequest, that the blue eyes filled and would have overflowed if Sanch had not politely offered his tongue like a red pocket-handkerchlef, and so made her laugh the drops away, while Bab set the rest off by saying gloomily, "I mean to play with all the mad dogs I can find; then folks will think I'm smart and give me nice things."
No individual can acquire any right or interest; nobody, therefore, can come forward as a party, in a court of law, to claim participation in the gift. The bequest must stand, if it stand at all, on the peculiar rules which equitable jurisprudence applies to charities. This is clear.
It was an hereditary custom for the warden of Braithwaite Hospital, once a year, to give a grand dinner to the nobility and gentry of the neighborhood; and to this end a bequest had been made by one of the former squires or lords of Braithwaite which would of itself suffice to feed forty or fifty Englishmen with reasonable sumptuousness.
His will was a simple thing, containing the bequest of all his possessions, including the half-section of land so long in litigation, and the requests regarding his funeral.
Their departure left as the single trace of their sojourn in Lisconnel, Tib the cat, which remained behind, a somewhat unwelcome bequest to the widow M'Gurk.
Gosford, sitting at his ease, in victory, regarded my father with a supercilious, ironical smile. "Sir," he said, "are you, by chance, a fortuneteller?" "A misfortune-teller," replied my father, his face still held above the crystal. "I see here a misfortune to Mr. Anthony Gosford. I predict, from what I see, that he will release this bequest of moneys to Peyton Marshall's son."
Among them was my friend Mrs. Coventry, whom I found, on my departure, waiting in her carriage at the gate of the cemetery. "Well," she said, relieving at last with a significant smile the solemnity of our immediate greeting, "and the great Madonna? Have you seen her, after all?" "I have seen her," I said; "she is mine by bequest. But I shall never show her to you." "And why not, pray?"
Dad's eyes met Mother's; Dave's met Sal's; none of them spoke. But the clergyman drew his own conclusions; and on the following Sunday, at Nobby-Nobby, he preached a stirring sermon on that touching bequest of the man with the bear-skin cap. One Christmas. Three days to Christmas; and how pleased we were! For months we had looked forward to it.
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