But you think I am making my story too long, Neighbor Oldbird? Well, perhaps I am, but there seems to be so much to tell about Nelly, and the nice times we had together, that I don't know when to stop. I am 'most through now.
The day I sent her the Philopœna present was the last of my stay in town; and after I had packed up my clothes ready to start (with a gorgeous plum cake and two jars of raspberry jam in a box, which my dear old Friskies gave me,—they always do make everything of me, in spite of their lectures), I went to Uncle Herbert's room to bid him good-by, for I knew I should not see him again before I started, and he made me the best present of all. It was a dear little watch and chain; for he said, as I was nearly fifteen, I was quite old enough to take care of one. Wasn't that kind of him?
Well, dear me, I don't want to say good-by a bit, and I did not then; but, of course, it had to come, and I shook hands with my dear little friends, only wishing to goodness that I lived in New York.
We promised about twenty-five times apiece always to be friends; and then I kissed Aunt Elsie and Aunt Ruth, pulled Poddles' ears for good-by, and pranced off all alone; of course, boys that have watches are plenty big enough to go from New York to White Plains by themselves. I suppose we always shall stay there, for papa is abominably fond of the country; but just wait until I am a man, and see if I don't come to live in New York, and marry Neighbor Nelly, if she will have me. Mind you keep that last remark a secret, now, Neighbor Oldbird! That's all there is about it.
THE FAT GENTLEMAN'S STORY.
I'm in love with Neighbor Nelly,
Though I know she's only ten;
While I am five and forty,
And the married-est of men.
I've a wife as fat as butter,
And a baby—such a boy!
With the plumpest cheeks and shoulders,
Who's his father's dearest joy.
Though a Square toes and a Buffer,
Still I've sunshine in my heart;
Still I'm fond of tops and marbles
Can appreciate a tart.
I can love my Neighbor Nelly,
Just as though I were a boy,
And would hand her cakes and apples,
From my depths of corduroy.
She is tall, and growing taller;
She is vigorous of limb;
(You should see her playing soldiers
With her little brother Jim!)
She has eyes as blue as damsons;
She has pounds of auburn curls;
She regrets the game of leapfrog
Is prohibited to girls.
I adore my Neighbor Nelly,
I invite her in to tea,
And I let her nurse the baby
Her delightful ways to see.
Such a darling bud of woman!
Yet remote from any teens;
I have learnt from Neighbor Nelly
What the girls' doll instinct means.
Oh! to see her with the baby!
(He adores her more than I);
How she choruses his crowing,
How she hushes every cry!
How she loves to pit his dimples
With her light forefinger deep;
How she boasts, as one in triumph,
When she gets him off to sleep!
We must part, my Neighbor Nelly,
For the summers quickly flee;
And the middle-aged admirer
Must, too soon, supplanted be.
Yet, as jealous as a mother,
A suspicious, cankered churl,
I look vainly for the setting,
To be worthy such a pearl!
Note.—This charming little gem is not original, being gleaned from the pages of Putnam's Magazine. As it was there published anonymously, the author is unable to make any further acknowledgment.