gunpowder in an anvil on July 4. The glass in plaintiff's house was broken by the discharge of pebbles and sand, and he brought suit to recover the damage which he had thereby suffered, and the Court held that:

"The act of the mayor in granting permission to fire the anvil did not create a liability against the city. The utmost that can be granted is that the act of the mayor constituted the wrongdoers the licensees of the corporation, and, granting this, but by no means so deciding, the city is not liable for their act, because it is not shown that it was intrinsically dangerous. It is quite well settled that a municipal corporation is not liable for the acts of its licensees, unless it is shown that they were authorized to perform an act dangerous in itself. *** Here there is nothing to show that the authorized act was intrinsically dangerous; on the contrary, the danger arose from the negligent manner in which the licensees performed the act."

As against the decision in the principal case, there is a line of authorities which hold that for a city to license the shooting off of a large display of fireworks in the congested streets of a city is to create a nuisance for which the city is liable. In the case of Speir v. Brooklyn, 139 N. Y. 6, 34 N. E. 727, 21 L. R. A. 641, 36 Am. St. Rep. 664, the city licensed a display of fireworks at the junction of two congested thoroughfares. The city was held liable as creating a nuisance per se. In the case of Landau v. City of New York, 180 N. Y. 48, 72 N. E. 631, 105 Am. St. Rep. 709, a political organization was permitted by a resolution of the board of aldermen of the City of New York, duly approved by the mayor, to make a display of fireworks in a part of Madison avenue near Madison square. In Madison square and the adjoining streets 75,000 people were assembled to receive the election returns and view the parade, standing closely crowded in Madison Avenue Park and on both sides of Madison avenue. From some unknown cause some of the fireworks ploded, killing the plaintiff's intestate. The Court, in holding the City liable, followed the case of Speir v. City of Brooklyn, supra. The Court said:

ex

"There is a distinction, well recognized by law, between the discharge of fireworks upon private property and in a public highway. There is also a distinction in this regard between highways, depending on their location, the extent of the traffic upon them and the danger involved in case of accident. Fireworks in certain streets may or may not be a nuisance, according to the circumstances."

HOW I DREW OLD TOM LATHERS' WILL.

"How d', Weirtout?" spoke a deep, gruff voice familiarly as I sat at my desk in the Elktown Bank, of which I was cashier in the early days of my career in Case County.

"How do you do, Mr. Lathers?" I greeted my caller as I shook hands with him.

He was a man of stout build, below the medium height, with a large head and face and a generally determined air. He had gray eyes that scintillated as they looked at one or bored into one, as they sometimes did, a shock of sandy hair streaked with gray on his head and atuft of hair of the same color running to a point on his chin. This was Old Tom Lathers. He had come to Case County in an early day and had devoted his energies so exclusively to the acquisition of wealth that he had amassed a fortune estimated at a quarter of a million dollars. This consisted of all kinds of property, real, personal and mixed, though the major portion of it was real estate. At this time he was a widower, 79 years of age, and had a family of six children, four sons and two daughters. Some of these had inherited the thrifty disposition of Old Tom, others were so free and open-handed that wealth had no charms for them except for purposes of circulation. Old Tom had no illusions about his family at all. He knew the characteristics of each of his children to a T, as will soon appear.

Having introduced Old Tom Lathers, I may say a word as to my status in the community of which he was a part. At this time I was about 25 years of age, and, as before stated, cashier of the Elktown Bank. In connection with the cashiership I also held the office of notary public, obtained by the familiar process of twenty-five of my fellow-citizens peti

tioning the governor of the state for my appointment, said fellow-citizens at the same time vouching for my integrity, good standing and eminent qualifications for the office, notwithstanding that they knew nothing about any of these things. It may be remarked in passing that a considerable portion of the people of every country community look upon this officer as endowed with vast wisdom by virtue of the office alone and as peculiarly qualified to give advice and counsel on the most abstruse legal propositions.

My education had been of the ordinary kind of a country youth, but I had rounded out my educational career by an extensive course of three months in a commercial school. I was a young man, it is proper to add, of a good deal of ambition, and my self-esteem towered grandly above all surrounding objects, though let it be placed to my credit that this last-named characteristic was hidden beneath an exterior of gentle demureness which, aided by the unhesitating manner in which I attacked the most difficult problems, greatly enhanced my reputation in my community for large and varied talents.

In the conduct of the strictly banking business I spent the most of my time. But my notarial duties won me the greater renown, for although I had never made a study of conveyancing and could not have drawn a correct deed or mortgage offhand to save my life, yet the blank forms of these and other legal papers were of such material assistance to me

that I came to be regarded by the patrons of the bank and others as somewhat of a prodigy in the field of legal lore, an opinion in which I shared most unreservedly.

Naturally the confidence reposed in me by the community on account of the reputation I had acquired drew to me the preparation of wills. In this line I considered myself possessed of a varied as

well as a profound fund of abstruse legal knowledge. It had happened in this way: Old Josiah Weiscarver, J. P., had died and his legal library, consisting of the statutes and a number of volumes of the session laws of the state, together with B's Justice Practice, had fallen into my hands by virtue of a small debt which his estate owed the bank and which the estate was insufficient otherwise to liquidate. After a casual examination of the statutes and session laws I began to look upon myself as a very profound lawyer indeed, and when I had reviewed the Justice practice there was no longer a lingering doubt in my mind of my transcendent ability as a legal light. I had found in the latter forms of various legal instruments and among them a form of a will. This last I regarded as an invaluable discovery. Nothing now could stand between me and the disposal of estates by bequest or devise. Although the form was of the most elementary kind for making simple bequest or devise of property, I did not know it, but regarded it as one of those deep and dark mysteries of legal learning which it was the privilege of but few to have revealed to them. I was also materially assisted in my testamentary career by one of those good Samaritans who represent blank publishing houses, who called my attention one bright day to the fact that his house printed blank forms of wills. It I a happy bit of information. jumped at these blanks with avidity. They would, I made no doubt, fill an aching void on account of which I had suffered severely. When they came to hand I felt myself equal to any emergency connected with will drafting. I said to myself, "I can now make any will the heart of man of few days and full of trouble can wish."

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My connection with the bank gave me a great deal of prestige and my notarial commission added thereto unques

tionably. The community confided in me, very properly I thought. Hence I began to draw wills whenever occasion offered, always according to the form laid down and provided in the Justice Practice-which I was careful to have before me whenever called upon in this benevolent capacity-for filling in the blank spaces of my printed forms. Sometimes a testator had views of his own not consistent with my form as to the disposition of his estate after he should cease to have use for it. But I always assured him that it could not be done in the irregular way he wished because my authority derived from the form made no provision for it. If he proved obstinate I did not get impatient with him and tell him to go away. No, I merely showed him the form as something that could not be overridden by common mortals such as he. This method usually settled it. When he saw it laid down in cold type like that he generally made up his mind that he either must go hence intestate or else refuse to yield to the course of nature and live eternally. Not having much confidence in his powers in a race with time, as a rule he surrendered to the form.

I must admit that I was puzzled at first in the case of a testator who wished to leave money or other property in trust for the use of some superannuated relative or friend, the residut, if any, to revert to the estate upon the death of such beneficiary. But I got round it in the end by the simple expedient of persuading him either to fix it by a donation. or else to give someone verbal instructions to see to the business. Sometimes the latter method was adopted, and it speaks volumes for the good in human nature that it was occasionally carried

out.

"Sam, I'd like to say a word private to yoo," continued Tom Lathers, after

the greetings narrated at the beginning of this history.

I conducted him to the private office of the bank. Arrived there, we seated ourselves facing each other. Tom placed his elbows on his knees and, leaning towards me with his sharp eyes boring into me, said:

"Sam, I'm fur makin' my will. Now, what I want is to fix up my property so's none o' the boys or gals or their husbands or wives can git away with what me an' the ol' woman got t'gether by so many years o' hard til. Yoo git me, don't yoo?"

I said I did.

"Well," he continued, "thar's Ike. Ike's a study feller with a head fur business onto 'im, an' he don't throw no money at the birds, an' his wife's similar. John's a good bit like Ike, only that headpiece o' his'n ain't quite as strong. Still he don't let anything slip through his fingers. But thar's Bill and Joe, they don't 'preciate the valu' o' money more'n a skunk does atter o' roses. A fortune give to 'em with a free hand to spend it 'd disappear quicker'n yoo could sav scat. You git my idee, don't ye?"

I admitted that I did.

"Sue's a study 'nough gal, but she's got Hank Beesley fur a husband, an' Hank knows 'bout as much 'bout the valu' o' a dollar as Chinese Joss-Sticks does 'bout Huly Writ. As fur Jane, she's got a mind o' her own and molds Sam Baxter, her man, to her purpose same's a sand pattern does melted metal, but unfortunately her purpose's to git rid o' all the cash that comes her way as expurdisously as possible. Now, what I want to do 's to treat all my boys and gals alike considerin' their capacities to take care o' what I give 'em. Do you catch my drift, Bub?"

I did, but how to get at it was beginning to mystify me. So I said:

"I get your general drift. Proceed to fill in the interstices, Mr. Lathers."

"Here's what I want to do," he went on. "I want to divide all my property so's each one o' my children'll have an ekul share o' it. No partiality's my notion o' the way to do a thing o' this kind. At the same time I want Ike and John to have their'n outright, to do's they please with it, so to speak, soon's I'm done with it. Bill and Joe air young yet an' maybe can be trusted with property by the time they're thirty-five years old. By then they may have sense. 'nough to know what a dollar's wuth when they see one. So I want their'n fixed up so's each one on 'em can have the income from his'n till he's thirtyfive, an' after that so he can have the whole kit and bilin' to do with it as he pleases, prayin' the Almighty that he'll have brains 'nough in his calabash to take care o' it. Do yoo see the pint?"

ter.

I said it was as plain as a circus pos

"Now, I come to Jane and Sue," Old Tom continued. "I want to fix them so's they'll be safe's long's they live an' their kids need'nt to want fur nothin' they need, includin' educashun. I've been figurin' on this a heap, an' I guess I got the idee. I'm goin' to do by them the same's by Bill and Joe, only they're to have nothin' but the income from their'n while they live. When they're de-ceased, as I've hearn it called, then their kids (Sue's got three and Jane four) git their'n to do's they want to with it."

The clouds were pretty thick by now, but they were to become more opaque still. Old Tom continued:

"As I said a bit ago, I want to treat 'em all alike, 'thout favorin' any on 'em, yoo understand. So then I come to what each one's to git. I've got 'nough land to give each on 'em 320 acres, fixed the way I've jest told yoo. There's some difference in the land an' the kind o' im

provements on the different pieces, but I'll give the ones that git poorer land an' improvements 'nough more moveables than I do the rest so's to ekalize things. Now there's how the land lays, Bub. Look it over an' then dive into this here testament business."

With this easy advice Old Tom Lathers concluded his statement. It was evident enough to me how he wanted to dispose of his property, but I was thrown on a deep, unknown sea without chart or compass as to the manner of doing it. I had no more idea of the terms, technical or otherwise, to be used in an instrument of the kind he wanted than a Marmoset monkey. Of all these things my forms were as bare as a Sahara. I concealed my perplexity, however, and fortified myself behind an air of sage comprehension. I knew Old Tom well enough to know that there was no such thing as diverting him from his purpose. I had to prepare that will according to his directions or retire from the field in dumb discomfiture. In this dilemma I determined not to be baffled by a small thing like a lack of knowledge-for it had just come upon me with something of a shock that there were depths in the testamentary line which I had not sounded. I swept away all doubts of my ability to cope with the business in hand and braced myself for the struggle with a determination that would have been commendable had my knowledge been more exhaustive.

"Mr. Lathers," I said, "I can fix up your property so it will be distributed the way you want it done after you have pessed—er—have passed-er-passed in your checks. All you need is an instrument stating just what and how much property you want to go to each of your children and the manner in which you want him or her, as the case may be, to hold it. Of course, the instrument will have to be drawn in formal and technical

language, so that the Court will get your idea after you have-er-have-er-"

"Blinked out, been planted," broke in Old Tom. "You don't need to be so tarnal mealy-mouthed 'bout it, Bub, fur I known what yoo mean. We're talkin' business now, business o' life, an' bein' planted's part o' it, I reckon.”

"All right, very good," said I. "I like to see a man take a matter of this kind philosophically. It does a man infinite credit when he faces a proposition of this kind with the calm indifference of a stoic or a wooden-Indian cigar sign, which is about the same thing. It shows that he's prepared for eventualities."

This speech was not the most elegant or appropriate, perhaps, but Old Tom liked it. He said:

"Son, you have the knack o' puttin' things purty glibly. But after all, there's no sense in sugar-coatin' a dung heap, 'cause it don't deceive nobody, 'sides bein' a clar waste o' the sugar." After making this no less truthful than philosophical observation, he continued, "Now, let's git down to business."

Thus admonished I drew Old Tom Lathers' will. Although I had informed him that it would have to be drawn in formal and technical language, I think I may safely say that, considering the diverse ways in which his holdings would have to be handled after his decease, it was one of the most informal and untechnical wills ever drawn. To go into details would make this narrative too long. Suffice it to say, I used one of my blank forms. Hence the will began and ended with a fine redundancy of words, which, however, impressed the testator as of very erudite significance. Intermediate of this beginning and ending I sailed out on a vast ocean of blank paper. And here is the way I did it: I filled in this space with a statement, the purport of which was that Ike and John Lathers were each to have certain described 320

acre tracts of land, together with certain described personalty as theirs absolutely. Bill and Joe were each given a like quantity of land, duly described, with personalty supposedly sufficient to bring their respective shares up to a parity with those given the other two sons, these to be theirs only upon their attaining the age of thirty-five years, respectively. There was no mention of how or by whom the property was to be managed prior to their arrival at the age of thirtyfive, or who was to receive and distribute the income arising from the property in the meantime. Jane and Sue each received by this instrument the income from 320 acres of designated land and from certain defined personalty "as long as she should live and at her death her children to take the same." How or by whom this property was to be controlled or the income from it handled was left to the tender mercies of legal construction. In a word, it was the finest, easiest and most untechnical proposition ever penned. And the beauty of it all was that I was wholly innocent of the fact. On the contrary, I felt considerably puffed up to think that I had been capable of so sublime an effort. Old Tom was well pleased, too. Said he:

"What I like 'bout that air is it goes straight to the pint, don't go flounderin' round like a steer stuck in a mud hole." After Old Tom had made this flattering remark, I said:

"Now, Mr. Lathers, whom do you want for your executor?"

"What's that?" he queried, evidently under the impression that an executor was some sort of mechanical contraption.

"An executor," I proudly enlightened him, "is the person appointed by you to carry out the provisions of your will." Seeing that his countenance still showed blank, I added: "The executor collects the assets of the estate, pays the claims