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 Sat.u.r.day 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 sh.o.r.es 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 sh.o.r.e after us, as if they meant to gobble us up, and bouncing out again when they had pa.s.sed, 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 n.o.body 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 sh.o.r.e, 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 quant.i.ties 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 b.a.l.l.s 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 sh.o.r.es 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 n.o.ble 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 pa.s.sed it, they were _playing billiards_. Oh! what an occupation for G.o.d'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--G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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.