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.
POSTSCRIPT TO THE THREE STORIES.
BY THE OLD BACHELOR.
WHEN I had finished copying out the stories of the Big Boy and the Fat
Gentleman last summer, the thought struck me that, as I had been in town
all the warm bright June weather, it would do my health a great deal of
good to take a trip to Long Branch. Of course, it was not to see
Neighbor Nelly--certainly not.
So, the very next Saturday afternoon I dusted up my valise, and put some
nice cool summer clothes in it, and a great paper of candy, which I
meant for my little neighbors, in case I should see them by accident!
Somebody had told me that the Mansion House was the best hotel to stop
at. Shall I tell you why? Because there was a party there, of a papa and
mamma, a dear little girl and boy, and a remarkably nice little toy
terrier, which would put me in mind very much of some friends of mine
called Lawson. In fact, this family was called Lawson, too, and the
younger members were christened Nelly and Jimmy! Comical, wasn't it?
If you have never been to Long Branch, you can't think what a pleasant
sail it is down the Bay in the "Thomas Collyer," and how much I enjoyed
my trip. The pleasant shores of Long and Staten Islands (_I_ used to
live on Staten Island, and had some comical times there, which I mean to
write out one of these days) looked as verdant and beautiful as ever;
the sea was as blue as a bluebottle fly, and the sun as light as a cork!
As I looked at the great, rolling waves, I laughed to myself, thinking
what nice times we were going to have in bathing; ducking under them,
when they came roaring along the shore after us, as if they meant to
gobble us up, and bouncing out again when they had passed, all dripping
and laughing, and ready for the next one to play the same trick on us.
Sometimes, to be sure, the waves play too rough, and knock you off your
feet without "by your leave;" or a little crab will walk up and bite
your toes, just by way of welcoming you to Long Branch; but nobody minds
it. Bless you!--that only makes it more fun to go in bathing!
Well, the boat stopped at the pier, which extends a quarter of a mile
from the shore, putting one in mind of a long crab's claw stuck out for
"shake hands" by old Neptune; and I jumped into the cars and was bounced
and rattled along to Long Branch. As it was Saturday afternoon, a great
crowd of people were going there with me, and, deary me! when _I_ came
to the Mansion House, there wasn't any room left for me! Wasn't it too
bad? Just when I had fixed to have such a nice time with my dear little
friends! It would never do to go away, however, so I said: "Well, never
mind, Mr. Mansion House--that is, Mr. Neighbor Nelly--dear me!--Mr.
Laird, I can do without a room; and at night you can put me to sleep in
the pigeon house, or the hen coop, or under the counter of the office,
or up the chimney, I don't care which; but go away I can't!"
Now, I expect, Mr. Laird must have known I had come to see Neighbor
Nelly, and what a disappointment it would be not to get in; for after a
consultation with his bookkeeper, he told me he could give me a room
after all! and I was so glad, that I offered him my snuff box
immediately, which is a favor I only grant to very nice people!
So up stairs I hurried, to get ready for tea, in high good humor, and,
would you believe it, when I came down again, whose table should I be
put to sit at, but Neighbor Nelly's? Oh, how surprised and pleased she
was to see me! and Jimmy and his father and mother were just as glad.
There was famous "clam chowder" for tea, and such great big
blackberries, that we really had to make two bites of them! not to
mention the quantities of other good things; and after tea we strolled
out on the bluff, which overlooks the ocean. There are three pretty
little summer houses before the Mansion House, and in one of these we
took our seats. Gipsey had come scampering up to me in delighted
recognition as we left the dining room, barking and wagging his tail,
until I should think both his tail and his bark would have been quite
out of joint.
"Oh, Neighbor Oldbird, I'm so glad you have come," began Nelly, eagerly;
"we have been having such fun, and, now you are here, it will be nicer
than ever."
"Do you and Jimmy go in bathing?" I asked.
"I guess we do!" cried Jimmy. "We rush into the water first of anybody,
and go out real deep, when we have hold of the ropes. Some great big
boys are as afraid as anything! But we like to have the waves go over
our heads."
"Talking about big boys," said I, looking wonderfully sly, "I made the
acquaintance of a big boy in our street, not long ago, who knows a
certain little lady very well; and likes her very well, too!"
"Oh, I know!" chimed both the children; "it's Tom Halstead. Isn't it?"
"Yes; he told me something funny about you, too; I did not know you
could wash windows before, Neighbor Nelly."
My little neighbor laughed and blushed comically when I said that, and
then Jimmy said:
"He's a first rate fellow, I tell you. He sent us a letter the other
day, and what do you think? he's coming here!"
"Coming here!" I exclaimed; "my stars! I shall be quite thrown in the
shade when such a nice friend makes his appearance. I think I shall have
to go home again Monday, and I did mean to stay till Wednesday," and I
made up a dismal face, and pretended to be quite heart-broken.
"No, indeed, Neighbor Oldbird! we shall always like you the best!" cried
Nelly, catching both my hands in hers. "He is a very nice boy, to be
sure, but we like _you_ just as much as if you were our bachelor uncle."
"Then I move to be called Uncle Josiah directly!" I said, laughing;
"so, my dear niece and nephew, don't you think it would be a good plan
for us to go down on that nice yellow sand there, and look at the
waves?"
The children were delighted with this plan, so we all three walked to
the steep wooden steps that lead from the bluff to the beach below, and
were soon on the sands. Gipsey came racing after as usual, and in his
haste to join us, ran so fast down the steps, that he couldn't stop
himself, but had to bring up on the sand past the water mark, looking
comically astonished. To put a finishing touch to his misfortunes, a
great big wave came tumbling in just then, and over poor Gipsey it went!
sousing him head and ears! It frightened him so much that he rushed
dripping wet to Neighbor Nelly, and jumped into her lap, squealing
dismally. Such a perfect shower-bath of cold salt water as rained all
over her pretty muslin dress, and trim little gaiters and stockings! We
had to shake her well, and put Gipsey to bed on a sandhill near us,
where he went to sleep, and, I hope, forgot his miseries.
Perhaps you don't know it, but the sand is a famous place to write your
name. You go as near the retreating wave as you dare, and then, with a
walking stick or an umbrella, or your finger, if nothing better is to be
had, write your name, or draw a hideous spook on the wet sand. You have
to be quick about it, too; for just as you are putting the finishing
touches to the work, another great billow is sure to come tearing at
you, with a wide, deep hollow of emerald green, and foaming crest,
looking like molten silver in the moonlight. Crash! it falls on the
beach; and a long rush of foam slides up the sand as you scamper out of
reach, not always without a wet shoe or two. Now the water has all run
back, but where is the writing? The sand is smooth once more, and ready,
like a great blackboard, to be marked on anew. So the sea is always
clearing your writing book for you, and giving you a chance to begin
again and see how long it will last!
I should think we wrote "Nelly," "Jimmy," and "Neighbor Oldbird," about
fifty times each on the sand, with my walking stick; and then we "hung
Jeff. Davis on a sour apple tree," and depicted him with Old Spookey
coming after him, and told the Atlantic Ocean, "We like blue fish," and
"We're going in bathing Monday," and never succeeded in keeping one of
our achievements more than half a minute.
We stayed down on the delightful beach until nearly half-past nine; and,
dear me, what a heap of sand we got in our shoes! It was quite wonderful
how it contrived to work its way in; but there it was, making us lift up
our feet as heavily as though we had cannon balls tied to our ankles.
But it was getting late, and high time for small people to be off to
bed; so, with a shake of the hand from one of my little neighbors, and a
"good kiss" from the other, I don't say _which_, Gipsey was waked up,
and they all trotted off together.
Next morning was Sunday, and a beautiful sunshiny day. The first thing I
did when I woke up, was to pop my head out of the window and take a look
at the ocean. There it was, as beautiful as ever, and now I found out a
funny thing about Long Branch that I hadn't noticed the evening before.
"Why," said I, "is it possible I am in the country? Where are the
trees?" They were nowhere to be seen, not so much as a bush; while the
flowers were represented by everybody's bathing dresses hanging over
all the fences, and on ever so many clothes-lines besides, to dry. The
fact is, that the Atlantic Ocean is determined to let nothing be admired
but itself; so it will not permit a tree to grow any nearer its shores
than half a mile. So all the foliage there consists of the direful old
bathing dresses, flapping in the wind and looking like so many
scarecrows put up to frighten off the fishhawks.
In the morning we went to the cunning little Episcopal church, and
listened to the earnest teachings of the noble young rector, who is
working so bravely in his Master's cause with such poor earthly reward.
That he is laying up treasure where "neither moth nor rust doth
corrupt," we cannot but believe. We did not like to leave the quiet
little church for the great noisy hotels, in one of which, as we passed
it, they were _playing billiards_. Oh! what an occupation for God's holy
day! I cannot believe they were Christians who were playing, but I know
I wanted to go and beg them to stop.
In the afternoon it clouded up, and began to rain very hard; so we could
not go to church, and as it was very little like Sunday in the crowded
hall and parlor, Mrs. Lawson proposed we should all come and sit in her
room, which opened on one of the upper piazzas. So we established
ourselves here, where it was quiet and cool, very glad to escape from
the bustle down stairs.
"Suppose you were to repeat that pretty German hymn I gave you the other
day," said her mother to Nelly. "Perhaps Mr. Oldbird would like to hear
it."
"Yes, that I should," I said; so Nelly began the beautiful verses
called--
"ALL THERE."
"Nothing is lost; the treasures which the ocean
Hath taken to itself in ages fled,
The lives that rest beneath its ceaseless motion
Until 'the sea shall render up its dead:'
"The dew drops that the warm bright sunshine drieth,
The cloud that melts away in summer air,
The bud that lifteth its sweet head--and dieth,
They are not lost--God keeps them in his care.
"Nothing is lost; the anguish of the mourner,
And bitter tears that fall like solemn rain,
Are safely stored within the heavenly garner,
Till Christ shall come unto his own again.
"And our beloved ones that Death doth gather
To their calm, dreamless sleep beneath the tomb,
Like tender flowers, are cherished by the Father
In the celestial fields of Heaven to bloom.
"Nothing is lost; oh, let the promise cheer us;
By God himself to weary mortals given;
Our darling ones shall soon again be near us,
Our hopes shall bloom, unfadingly, in Heaven."
"I think that is the best hymn I know," added Nelly, when she had
finished. "Now, what shall we do?"
"Let's play church!" suggested Jimmy.
"Oh yes! that's the very thing!" said Nelly. "Suppose we ask Kitty and
Robby Morris to come in."
So Kitty and Robby were found, and consented to join the play, which
straightway began; mamma and I looking on, though we made believe not to
be taking notice, for fear of disturbing the little visitors.
Robby, who was a dear little fellow, only five years old, with long
golden curls and great blue eyes, was the minister, at his own special
request. The children dressed him in a long white sack of Mrs. Lawson's
by way of a gown, and gave him a small table for a pulpit. The others,
with Gipsey, and a large gray cat, the property of Robby and Kitty,
which marched in after them, were the congregation, sitting on the edge
of the bed, to be like the long church pew. The minister took for his
text, "Little children, love one another," and his sermon was such a
dear, funny little discourse, that I must write it down for you.
"Now, my dear peoples," he said, "I hope, whenever you feel like
karrelling,[A] or being as cross as bears, you will 'member what the
Bible says 'bout loving one another. Gipsey fighted my tat to-day, and
pulled some of her fur out; but he's only a dog, and I readed in my Dr.
Watts--
"Let dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God has made 'em so;
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature too.
But, children, _you_ s'ould _never_ let
Your angry _pass'ons_ rise!
Your little hands were _never_ made
To sc'atch each other's eyes."
----so I was not mad at him, 'cause he didn't _know_ he ought to love
pussy.
"I _s'apped_ nurse the other day, 'cause she made me come out of the
water before I wanted to, and _that_ was _very_ naughty; I begged her
pardon, though, and gave her a piece of my _tandy_, that papa had
brought me. Now, my dear peoples, I think that is long enough. S'pose we
sing, 'I want to be an angel.'"
[Illustration: PLAYING CHURCH.]
Wasn't that a cunning little sermon? It put me in mind of how I used to
play church in my childhood, long ago; when my young brother, dear
little Davy, would stand on a chair, while I sat on my stool at his
feet, and preach a sermon something like Robby's. Darling Davy! I
fancied I could see his sweet face and earnest eyes looking down at me,
from his happy home in heaven that Sunday afternoon; for he closed those
dark eyes on this weary earth many long years since, and I never think
of him now but as standing on the chair in our father's study (with,
perhaps, mother looking in, unknown to him), and preaching from some
simple text that we knew and loved, in quaint, yet childish words. Ah,
well! perhaps it was better so, than that he should have lived to be a
gray-headed old bachelor like "brother Jose!"
So the children all sang the hymn, and that was the end of church. We
passed the rest of the afternoon telling Bible stories, and repeating
hymns, and after tea it was clear once more, and dry enough to go out on
the bluff.
You may be sure, we were all in famous spirits Monday morning, and ready
for any sort of a frolic. Who could help being good humored with such
company as my little neighbors? Mr. Lawson left us in the first train
for the city; but, to make up, who should have come down in the early
morning boat, but Tom Halstead and Miss Elsie Bluejay--or Brandlaw, I
ought to say, since I know her name now; and they drove straight up to
the Mansion House, of course--who wouldn't, when Neighbor Nelly was
there? The children received Tom with shouts of joy; and he looked so
handsome and happy, and his great black eyes sparkled so with good humor
and fun, that I felt quite ready to admit him into my circle of little
people that I knew and loved. Neighbor Nelly and he were an admirable
contrast in point of appearance, and I shouldn't be surprised if the
last remark made to me in strict confidence, by my friend Tom in his
account of her, should come true some day.
I wish I could sketch a little picture of our party as we clustered
together on the piazza, to show what manner of people we were then; and
another, of our appearance in the water afterward. Ten o'clock was the
hour for bathing that morning; so we each armed ourselves with our
bathing clothes and a prodigious towel, like the main sail of a fishing
smack, and rushed down to the beach; that is, the younger members; Aunt
Elsie, Mrs. Lawson, and I walked soberly along. Then we popped into
separate bathing houses, still looking like respectable and responsible
members of society, and popped out five minutes afterward--scarecrows!
spooks! animated rag-bags! with the last vestige of our gentility and
good looks departed.
Aunt Elsie had taken leave of a most beautiful brown "front" and
fourteen luxuriant curls, the absence of which gave her an appearance
very like a staid bald-headed owl; particularly as she would keep on her
very round spectacles, and wore a pair of extremely long-fingered green
cotton gloves. The long ends of the glove fingers, waving about in the
water, were not unlike the owl's claws; while her gray woollen bathing
dress might have passed for a new sort of flannel feathers. A mortified
blue sunbonnet, with all the canes out, was perched lop-sided on her
head, and she wore a pair of bathing shoes, like brown poultices. The
rest of us were just as bad, though; I was an ogre in green flannel, Tom
and Jimmy monkeys in red, Mrs. Lawson tolerably lady-like in blue, with
white tape trimmings, and Neighbor Nelly a ridiculous little old jumping
Jenny in white, with gorgeous red facings; and all in hats that defied
our best friends to know us in.
How we laughed at each other, and then made haste over the sand, which
was so hot that it nearly scorched our feet, and plumped into the nice
cool ocean, where ever so many other frights were already hopping about.
Now for a rush into the deep water! here comes a big wave! down, down
now! and over our heads it went! dousing us as it had Gipsey the
Saturday night, only we didn't squeal.
Presently, some people who had come from the next hotel, began dancing
the "Lancers" in the water, ducking under instead of bowing, and
seeming to have such a good time, that nothing would suit the children
but that they must begin dancing, too; in consequence of which a wave
twice as high as usual came roaring up, and carried Neighbor Nelly right
off her feet. Under the water she went, and for an instant we were quite
frightened; but presently up she popped laughing, and trying to squeeze
the salt water out of her eyes.
However, that put a stop to the dancing; and here let me tell you, that
surf bathing is always a pretty venturesome thing to attempt, unless you
grasp the ropes firmly, or have hold of some older and stronger person's
hand.
There was one gentleman flourishing about near us, who seemed bent upon
trying how many odd things he could do in the water. Presently we saw
him going down head first, and then his feet coming up in the air like a
duck's! It looked so comical to see any one besides a duck standing
upside down in the water, that we all burst out laughing, and just then
along came another billow, and treated us each to a mouthful of salt
water!
By this time we had been in long enough for one day, for you should
always remember to come out before you feel chilled, and so we waded to
the shore, looking more outlandish than ever, now the bathing dresses
were all soaked, and hurried into the houses to get dry and dressed.
Surf bathing is a famous thing to give you an appetite; and I don't
wonder Mr. Laird provides so bountiful and well cooked a dinner, when I
think of the famishing five hundred people that were to be fed the day I
was there, and every day beside. The "Charge of the Light Brigade" was
nothing to the charge we made upon the dishes; and as the dining room is
sensibly arranged with tables accommodating about a dozen people each,
we all sat together; and had such a merry time that two or three cross
old dames looked sharply at our party, very curious to know what all the
laughing was about. Our small friend Gipsey was the cause of it, partly,
for he posted himself beside each of our chairs in turn, and made such
surprising and despairing hops and skips after bits of chicken held up
beyond his reach, that he very nearly turned a somerset each time.
We rewarded his patience at last by giving him some bones, which he
crunched under the table with perfect satisfaction, while we were
discussing the ice cream and other good things.
In the afternoon I was sitting reading the paper on the upper piazza,
and the children were amusing themselves in their own fashion near me.
Nelly, with another little girl, whose name seemed to be "Baby," for
they never called her anything else, were manufacturing a resplendent
doll's dress for a waxen angel in a white spencer--or whatever those
muslin concerns are called, which the ladies wear with colored skirts
nowadays, and a black velvet pointed belt; while the boys, with their
arms fraternally entwined, were interchanging confidences on the
important subjects of "My peg top," "Don't you think thirty-eight cents
is a tremendous price for kites?" "How many glass agates have you got?"
and so on--when Tom, looking very mischievous, suddenly lifted up dolly
by the toe of her shoe, and asked, "Why, Nelly, what's the matter with
this doll; has she got the spinal complaint?"
"No, you goose," said Nelly, laughing. "What makes you ask that?"
"Because she has on a supporter," said Tom, with perfect gravity,
pointing to the velvet belt. "Poor thing! why don't you take her in
bathing? It would do her health good, I'm sure; she looks fearfully
pale."
"Ah, make him put her down, Nelly," said Baby; "he'll break her if he
goes on so;" for Tom was now amusing himself by balancing dolly on her
head in his hand, making a great display of embroidered trowsers and
hoop petticoats; and now, catching her by both hands, he suddenly swung
her over the railing. "This is the way she ought to be ducked under the
waves!" he added. Nelly sprang forward at the same moment with an "Oh,
Tom! please!" and caught his arm rather suddenly. His hold relaxed at
the same moment, and crash! down tumbled poor dolly on the ground below,
breaking one of her wax arms completely off, and making a fearful cavity
in her forehead, which killed her completely! that is, I should think
so. I never heard of any one who survived fracture of the skull. Did
you?