The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-02-28

Out JViut occupatiou Oh set VI ouiSoo ""s sNs
only business connection between US. The letter
was written, or rather printed with type
writer, was signed Janet Floyd, and was ad-
dressed TO Mr.. Curper. It ran thus;
II will say at once that the name at the bottom
of this note is an assumed one, and that this Is
written at the house of friend who will address
the envelope. ] have taken these precautions
because / do not wish you at present to
know who / am. My personality Is, how.
ever, of no Importance whatever, as merely
wish to direct your attention to case
where few words from you may save a very
deserving woman, who is not able to employ
legal advice, from much trouble and loss
feel sure that you will be glad of the opportuni-
ty Of doing this worthy person kindness, espec-
tally as it will take very little Of your time
will not state her case, because I do not clearly
understand it. but, of course, it will be plain
enough to you. The old lady's name is Mrs
Grome, and she lives on q very little farm, which
she owns, atthe end of the second lane from the
river on the road TO Ormsby Park. know that
you drive out there very often, and it would
probably detain you but short time to turn
into the lane and set this good woman's mind
straight about her affairs / promised Mrs
Grome that would send her good adviser, and
feel sure you will not disregard this appeal to
your kindly feeling and benevolence."
well, said I. as returned the letter to Mr..
Curper, Janet Floyd, whoever she Is, seems to
have very high idea Of your kindly feeling and
bsnevolence."
"Not any higher than she ought to have. if
she knows me. he answered. land suppose she
DOES know me, or she would not have taken so
much pains to conceal her identity But, al
though am perfectly willing to do kind act
whenever called upon, and think a lawyer
ought to be just as ready to give few words Of
advice in ease Of this kind as doctor to pre-
scribe for patient who he knows can't pay,
shall not be able to attend to this thing to-day or
tomorrow want to get out of town just as soon
as can, and have lot of work on hand before
/ 60. I thought perhaps that you would be
riding out that way. and wouldn't mind stepping
in and twisting this worthy person around SO that
she can see where she stands"
'"That is the way you support your character
for benevolence is it9" said I. 'but as intended
TO 60 out to Ormsby park this afternoon, l am
very willing to see this person, and do what can
for her."
The summer was getting we'll on, the city was
hot, and was just as anxious az Curper to get
out of town, but was detained by an important
case which was to come on in few days. was
fond OF horseback exercise, and a ride out to
Ormsby park, a few miles from the city. was my
favorite way Of solacing myself after hot day
in court, or in my Office.
twas about o'clock in the afternoon when
rode up to the gate of Mrs. Grome's front yard
and. baving tied my horse to that part of the
fence which seemed the strongest, stepped upon
the low porch and knocked at the door, Il was
queer little house, very old and very gray, and
there was about it an apparent disposition to
spread which gave me the idea, when first
looked at it. that if the grape vines and honey
suckle vines and the wisteria vines the Virginia
creeper and the other vines which encircled it
about should be removed, it would fall apart
like wooden pail deprived of its hoops. The
door was opened by an old woman in short
gown and petticoat. and wearing blue muslin
apron and a blue muslin sunbonnet
Good day, sir, she said. with little courtesy
walk in, sir. I suppose you're lawyer
The young lady said she'd send me one, and
I've been lcokin' fur you ever sence she was
here"
] replied that was lawyer, and would be
glad to know what could do for her.
Take seat, sir. in this big chair, and I'll
tell you just how old Billy Haskell is tryi, to
cheat me out of the very bread eat an ;he
bed sleep on" And seating herself near me,
on a stif-baeked, rush bottomed chair. she
crossed her hand upon her knees, directed the
nuzzle of her sun-bonnet full upon me, and
began her story. You see" said she, that
I've got little farm here an sence my husband
Aied I amt got no men folks to work it,
got along well enough till last year. There
was neighbor of mine, Hiram Burns by name.
who had wife an six children, all girls but the
baby, an horse, an for thirteen years he has
worked my farm on sheers, an he'd q been doin'
1t now, him and his horse, if he hadn't died.
mean Hiram, of course-an' his death is a great
loss to me, as it was also, ashe quickly added, as
II she had forgotten something. ito his wife and
family. But that is neither here nor there. /
had nobody to work my farm; couldn't do il
myself, an altogether it was pretty hard on me.
neighbors all knowed it and talked about it, an
Billy Haskell, an oidish man that lives about a
mile from here, he come over an offered to work
Ehe farm on shecrs an furnish boss jest as
Hiram did. Now Billy didn't begin to be as
good a worker as Hiram was. but there wasn't
nothin' better to be done. as far as / could see,
an so agreed that he should come an work the
fern an furnish boss. and have half the crap.
Well, the long an the short of the story is that
Billy came an worked, but he didn't furnish no
boss, an had 60 hire the Wilder Burnses boss,
which she was mighty glad to let every time
there was any boss work to do which seemed to
me to be pretty much the whole time An now
Billy he up an an he sticks to it, too that he's
to have half the crap. An, SIR leave it to you.
Is there anybody in this world. except Billy Has
kell that nd call that fair2n