But the pleasantest neighbors of all live exactly opposite, at No. 9. They take tea every evening in the back parlor; and as the front window shades are up, and only the back room lighted, I can always see them at their cheerful meal. The rooms are furnished in winter with dark red velvet carpets and furniture; with red damask curtains and red velvet paper hangings. In summer they put up white curtains, and carpets and furniture have cool, cream-colored linen coverings, so that the parlors look cozy and charming at all seasons.
As for the family there is a papa and mamma, of course, and a dear little girl and boy. The little girl is about ten years old, I should think, with great, dark-blue eyes, and curling auburn hair. Her cheeks are as rosy as ripe peaches, and her teeth as white as so many pearls. Her nose does turn up at the end a little, to be sure; but that is rather saucy and becoming than otherwise; and she always looks so sweet tempered, and full of fun, too, when I see her of an evening, that I am sure she is as good as pie, and as merry as a cricket! Her little brother, who is a year or two younger, looks very much like her, and their obedient and pretty behavior at table is something really beautiful to observe.
It is nearly a year now, since I moved into my lodging at "No. 10," and began to wonder what No. 9's name was; and now I must make haste and tell you how, only last June, I became acquainted with these dear little neighbors of mine.
One pleasant Friday morning, after breakfast, I put on my old-fashioned beaver hat, and taking my gold-headed cane in one hand and my market basket in the other, I trotted out to buy something nice for dinner; for, you see, I am a particular old bachelor, and like to market for myself.
Just as I was coming down the steps, the door of No. 9 opened, and the little girl ran down her steps. She looked so bright and pretty in her cunning round straw hat with the blue ribbons, and white Marseilles cloak, carrying her satchel of books and lunch basket in her hand, that I could not help nodding to her. So she nodded to me, and then I nodded again and smiled, and we each walked along on our own side of the way. When we came to the corner I thought I would cross over and scrape some more acquaintance with my little neighbor. Now on the side of her satchel, I saw, when I came near her, was printed in gold letters, "Nelly Lawson;" so I said, as cheerily as I could, in my old, quavering voice:
"Good morning, Neighbor Nelly!"
The little maiden looked up in my face in a shy fashion at first; but when she saw what a mild, gray-headed old bachelor had bade her good morning, she took courage, and answered, "Good morning, sir."
"So you are going to school this fine day?"
"Yes; I go to school, but brother Jimmy doesn't; he learns at home. I think he is going next year. Have you got a baby at your house? We have."
"No," said I, sighing; "I haven't got any baby; I am an old bachelor. Will you marry me?"