Dunk owned half and Dan owned half, and the yaller
dog was also “joint”;
They fished and ate
And swapped their bait,
And allus agreed on every point.
—“Ballads of the Banks.”
It did not surprise the people of Palermo when the word passed that Judge Collamore Willard had decided to retire from business.
His callers had noticed his failing strength through the winter months, his unsteady gait, the tremulous wavering of his hands when he scrabbled among the papers on his table. They ascribed all this to the infirmities of age. Gossip that he had lost money, or that there was some basis for the sensational charges flung at him by Hiram Look, fell upon barren soil of belief in Palermo. Local confidence in the Willard fortunes and Willard integrity was too strong to be weakened thus.
Old men, spinsters and widows came straggling in, after persistent drumming at them by the Squire, to receive the sums due them. The process of settlements covered many days, and the lawyer had need of all his patience.
For old folks, even when the money was in their hands, stood by the Judge’s table and begged him to take it back.