Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1875-12-17
INDEPENDENCE, IOWA FRIDAY, DEC.

leading from one of the main streets
of the city. Some of these houses
in good repair, were inhabited only
by one or two families, others were
crowded with poorer class of me
chanics.
But though there was poverty and
labor represented there, Flyaway
Court had not yet sunk to the Level
OF crime. Suffering met the landlord
in many an honest home where wan,
of employment tied the bread-win.
ners' hands, but there was no insult
for him, no complaint against his just
demands. If the prayers of gratitude
may help to watt soul heavenward,
Gordon Doane's went up from many
a lightened heart that day toward
that bourne.
With all his generous impulses he
was judiclous and thoughtful, and
while he intended present help to
many despairing heart, he also took
a list of names for future work he
hoped to be able to provide.
The long forenoon was nearly over
when the landlord knocked at the
door of "73," second floor. Upon
his list this floor was noted, "Mr.
Moore, mother and sister," and oppo-
site the name "punctual." 1t was a
neat house, and when the door of the
sitting-room was opened the landlord
saw at once that the tenants here We're
people Of refinement, even if poverty
compelled them to set up their Lares
and Pcnates in Flyaway Court.
An open piano, few choice plants,
a canary in gilded cage, a bookcase
of well-selected volumes, and some
inexpensive but tasteful ornaments,
relieved the simple furniture. The
ingram carpet was of soft, pretty
colors, and the curtains rs white as
milk.
A young girl of nineteen in SIM
pie dress of blue woolen, had opened
the door, and waited to hear the
strangers business.
IL am Gordon Doane," he said to
her, 'sthe owner of these houses. My
agent, Mr.. Smith, is seriously i'll from
a fall. and cannot attend to the busi-
ness for me, SO l have to come my
self" But while he spoke the color
came and went upon his noble, hand
some face, and his voice faltered like
a girls. For the face before him
stirred tender memories in his heart,
and he re ad trouble there that moved
him strangely.
"Will you walk in and take seat:"
the girl said in a low voice; 81 will
speak to my mother"
But when he accepted the invita-
ton, she hesitated, locking with her
soft brown eyes wistfully into his
face. Reading there nothing to fright
en- her, she sud:
"Betore she comes, l must tell you
we are not prepared to pay the rent;
I know" she said, hastily, seeing him
about to speak, "that it is two months
due, but yet we are not ready. My
brother was discharged from the
house where he had been employed
for seven years, after the panic, and |
lost more than half my music schol-
ars. Mother had not been obliged
to do any work, except to keep the
house, for some years, and she cannot
now obtain it. l am very sorry; but
it you will let us remain here, we will
try soon to make up what is due
We have one months rent for you,
but not two"
"Wha: position did your brother
occupy?"
"IIe was salesman in - s. Co.'S
dry goods store. They speak well
for him, sir, but they were forced to
reduce the number Of employees"
as he at home now?"
mo, sir; he is seeking work."
"Will you ask him to call at this
address? 1t may be in my power t,
help him obtain employment" said
Mr.. Doane, offering his card. 81
should like to see your mother"
81 will send her to you"
In the little kitchen, busy about a
dinner, the widow, in her faded black
dress, looked hard on the visitors
card. She was very pretty yet, though
middle aged, with glossy brown hair,
and eyes as soft and brown as a
fawn's. Her clear complexion was
like ch'ld's, and her figure was as
straight and graceful as that Of her
daughter.
"Gordon Doane!" she said, 81 nev-
er knew that Mr. Smith was not our
landlord, Nellie. Gordon Doane! l
wonder"
"What, mother! Your cheeks are
red as roses"
"Nothing! nothing! 1t is not like
ly to be the same Gordon Doane.-
Watch the pies, Nellie; we will try
to give Thaddeus some dainty on
Thanksgiving day. 1t can't be Cor
dan Doane"
And yet whispering this, Mrs.
Moore's heart fluttered as she entered
the little sitting-room. A tall, hand
some man rose to greet her-a man
with iron-gray hair, and mild blue
eyes; a man of fifty, and yet no less
the country boy who had offered her
silent homage In her girlhood. Her
landlord now and wealthy, yet as
humbly standing there as the boy
who had said farewell SO many years
ago.
"It is May Appleton he said, ex
tending both hands.
"Ah, so many years ago!" she an
swered, smiling.
"Mrs. Moore,'' he said, quickly, 81
ask pardon. The sight of your face
blotted out all the years since l saw
it last. How glad Hattie will be-"
els Hattie here?"
eyes, a widow for many years,
with a son taller than his uncle. You
have Son, also, your daughter tells
me-"
eyes, l have two children"
Then from one commonplace to
another the talk drifted, till the tones
grew more earnest, memory had re-
asserted her power, and in simple but
earnast words Gordon DOane had