Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-10-30
MY BORROWING NEIGHBOR.
By MARGARET Il. sANGsTEg.

| remember everything VIC had for
breakfast that morning. Why remem-
Der so very ordinary thing as breakfast,
and why that special morning, lives in
my memory distinct and untaded, cannot
explain. Among the many mysteries of
psychology none are more mysterious, to
my thinking, than the things VIC remcm-
Der and the things we don't. We set our
selves with prayer and pains to the fixing
ola certain event or string Of events in our
recollection, and the next week we try in
vain to find the thing again. We've
locked it up in our mental lumber-room,
and lost the key. We take no conscious
notice OF another event or string OF events;
VIC are not aware that they arc making
any marked or deep impression upon us,
and years after IA random word or an idle
jest awakes them, and up they start as
fresh and bright as If they had happened
yesterday
We had for breakfast that morning
fried chicken, light rolls and coffee.
There was fruit on the table, of course.
We always had fruit whatever the season,
and this being summertime we had figs
fresh figs, pale green and rich purple,
gathered with the morning dew upon
them, great delicious spheres and Ovals of
honeyed sweetness. Breakfast was well
begun, and Cousin John had just asked
for his second cup, when the door of the
dining the door, mean, that opened
upon the back porch, was shaded by an
apparition. A little negro girl, bare.
footed, Of course, had come up the porch
steps so softly that nobody had heard her.
The first knew Of her presence was my
seeing her standing there, and hearing her
say, as she held out a cup and saucer
upon a tray:
"Please, Miss Eliz'bcth send Miss NAL
vina cup o. your coffee. She say she
done got lea an choc'lat dis yorc mornin',
but she like cup o. coffee"
'That must be our new neighbor, Lib
bic" said cousin John, as our dignified
waiter, Henry, with the utmost pomp and
ceremony took the cup from the small
scrvitor and carried it to me.
"Does your mistress like cream and
sugar." inquired.
"Reckon her got sugar--want cream,
though"
So poured out a cup of my coffee, and
sent it, rich with cream, TO my unknown
friend. Her house and mine were pretty
near together; not like houses in New
York, of course, for in the town where we
lived people had not learned as yet to
build their houses like barracks in long
uniform rows, every mans front door
precisely like every other mans on the
street, and the windows all as similar as
peas in a pod. All our houses there had
gardens around them, and places for the
children to play, and trees and flowers,
and we all kept dogs and chickens and
pigs. Down at the foot of our lane there
NJ AL, s1..rt \.
long been untenanted. 1t had a garden
sloping To the waters edge, and its caves
were overrun with roses and honeysuckles.
A day or two before the opening of my
story Il load of furniture had gone down
the lane, followed soon after by another and
another. Then a fat and pompOus colored
woman had made her appearance at the
back door, which was in full view from
ours, "A woman who from her gay turban
TO her slippered feet had cook Inscribed
upon her; gray-haire serving man had
been seen to shuttle in promiscuOus
manner about the premises, and finally q
carriage load Of ladies, poodle dog, and
canary bird had arrived, and completed,
we supposed, the family. The first night
we had heard no sounds, AS was natural,
for having come from somewhere the
carriage had been driven up soon after the
arrival of tho daily boat the travellers had
been tired, and had gone to bed early, no
doubt But next morning 1t was very
pleasant to hear the gay snatches of talk,
the ripping sounds Of laughter, and the
occasional burst Of music from rather
old but sweettoned piano, that came
floating to us merrily as we sat on our
porch, John with his newspaper and ]
with my knitting.
"I'm glad those girls are there" said
John.
"Of course you are" said l. Though
what difference can 1t possibly make to
yous You never go very much with
girls"
The fact was that my cousin John,
though lawyer and good looking man
of forty, was as difident and shy as a