Part 3 (2/2)
I did hope she would catch me on the Philopoena, because I had something that I meant to give her all along; and this would be a famous chance. It was a nest of little boxes, made of plaid papier-mache, about a dozen, one inside the other; and when you came to the very last, and had opened that, there was a gold thimble and scissors, and a little gold bodkin, a needlecase full of tiny needles, and a puncher, just big enough for the queen of the fairies; I won it at a raffle on Christmas Eve, and kept it to give to some little girl, for, of course, it wasn't any use to me; what could I do with a thimble and needles? Sure enough, when I looked out of the back parlor window next morning, Neighbor Nelly looked out of _her_ window, said with a saucy smile, ”Good morning, Mr.
Tom--Philopoena!” and popped back again.
”Good!” I said. So, after breakfast, I asked Aunt Elsie for a nice sheet of paper and a new pen, and then I ran up to my own room, and sat down to write a little note to my neighbor. I'm sure, that showed how much I liked her, if anything could, for I'd rather do a sum in compound fractions, or a French exercise, than write a note. It quite gives me the toothache; but at last I wrote something very pretty, as, I'm sure, you will say when I repeat it to you. This is what I said:
”MY DEAR MISS NELLY:
”I hope you will accept the little present I send you for a Philopoena, because I like you very much. I am real glad you caught me, for perhaps this will remind you of me when I go back to school. I hope the needles will sew all the holes in your clothes, that the thimble will keep you from p.r.i.c.king your pretty little finger, and that
”If you loves I as I loves you, The scissors won't cut our love in two.
”Good-by.
”From your affectionate friend ”TOM.”
Then I packed up the boxes and the letter in nice white paper, and coaxed Mary to take it in right away; and you can't tell how many pretty, smiling thanks I had in return.
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 Philopoena 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 wis.h.i.+ng 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 b.u.t.ter, 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 suns.h.i.+ne 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!
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