At a recent Authors’ Club dinner in London, Sir James Barrie recounted a peculiar testament from the 1930s. The will belonged to Charles Lounsberry, an Illinois lawyer who died in a lunatic asylum. Printed in Dominion on March 7, 1936, the document reads as an ever lyrical grant of nature and wonder to children, lovers and elders.

The bequest divides the world into whimsical parcels: children inherit fields, streams and endless days of play; boys receive commons for sport; lovers are given imagined skies and roses; mature adults receive volumes of Burns and Shakespeare to relive bygone eras. Lounsberry frames each gift as a temporary stewardship, emphasizing joy over material wealth, and foster lasting community bonds.

Barrie used the will to argue that the aged, who no longer wear the rose of youth, might emulate Lounsberry’s fanciful allocations, handing out non‑financial tokens to friends. The story resurfaces as a reminder that legal documents can transcend property lists, becoming poetic prescriptions for how society values nature, imagination and cultural memory, and inspire civic duty.