Senior Slant: The Accordion Affair by Hilda Maston Many years ago, my family and I moved into a home in a new housing development. My husband was a sales representative for Keystone Steel and Wire in Peoria, Illinois, and was away from home Monday through Thursday.

The rest of the family filled in that time as best we could.

My son, Hank, had always loved music, and decided to learn one more instrument, the accordion. I decided to take lessons, too, and purchased a nice little lady-like accordion about the size of a small overnight bag. I enjoyed the lessons, for which I went into town each Wednesday evening.

That, with bowling, church and getting to know some of my neighbors, made the time my husband was away go a little faster.

Some new people moved in across the street and after a week or so, I noticed some of the neighbors I had been socializing with were suddenly acting very coolly towards me and would hardly speak to me.

At a church meeting there were groups of ladies who were talking quietly together until I walked up. Then there was an immediate silence and the group broke up.

What’s going on? I asked myself. These ladies have always been so friendly to me.

Finally, my good friend down the street told me what the woman across the street was telling everyone. It seems she saw me leave home every Wednesday evening with my little suitcase (accordion). Since it was light when I left and dark when I came home, she didn’t see me return. She started a rumor, “That Maston woman goes away every Wednesday evening and spends the night with some man. I never see her come that night.”

I was both mad and flattered. I cleaned up this gossip, and then my neighbors and the women from church started to treat me as they did before.

Good intentions will only take you so far . . .