My father had already been laid to rest in the quiet little churchyard of Trotton, and on making an examination of the little house where we dwelt, his will was discovered.  The reading of this will, though of little interest to me (on account, I now suppose, of my youth), was the occasion of an assembly of many of the friends of my father, the number surprising me; for, though highly respected, he was not one who was fond of associating with our neighbours.