The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1895-12-06
HIS LITTLE NEIGHBOn.


Dor of the arN5t, Sl.aging IL tIe balus-
tiers with one hand, the other holding
aloft her pink skirts, slowly descended
the stairs, intending to confer stolen
visit upon her friend, the artist
The little neighbor, the little neigh
Der of the artist, had eyes of blue and
curls of gold. She was round, and fat,
and dimpled as cherub; SO, being
good to look upon, the queer old artist,
who didn't care for children, was in
terested in the small maiden, and
after little enticed her into his studio
and was very pleasant and kind to the
little girl, whose mother did dressmak-
ing, and lived in the two stuffy rooms
at the end of the hall above.
A grim, lonely old bachelor was this
artist Rumor said that once upon
time he had loved fair young girl
and that she had Tilted him for
younger lover; but no one knew the
name of the girl or the name of the
man she welded, though Miss Marker,
who kept a millinery shop on the first
floor, told a tale something like this:
The week after the widow and her
fats, that week, one day, the little
neighbor's mother and the little girl
had been to deliver some sewing; and
The artist had been to the Italian quar-
ter after model. 1t so happened that
the widow and her child, and the artist
and his model, met just inside the door
of the first hall
This is the pa inter-man, dear" said
the little neighbor, clutehing her
mothers skirts 70 attract her atten-
ton. The nice man in the album.
dear. The painter-man, dear, who
gave me the candy and the beenan-
ers."
Hush, Marioryw said her mamma,
her pretty, young cheeks ablaze
with embarrassment and annoyance.
She disengaged her skirts from the
grasp of the little fat hands
Mamma told you she did not wish
Tor new friends. Mamma does not wish
to meet this artist" said the widow,
looking meaningly into the eyes OF her
daughters new friend.
But, dear" persisted the l..tle
neighbor, when me told you how he
said What a zemblance,' you said you
wondered if itcould be-you know who
you said, dear. And now you can ask
him, dear; can't she Mr.. P..nter-
lman?"
And the artist, returning the wild
ow's icy gaze with interest, replied:
"Iolr ,Ap.'i'ri1,s not need to ask"
And then, suddenly, he stepped for
ward, the anger gone from his sad,
wrinkled, old face; great, wonderful
love and pity in its place
Mrs. Somers, Mrs Somers," he said,
elutching the hard needle-roughened
hands of the little neighbours mother,
''may we not, at least, be friends?"
Then mammals eyes filed with tears,
and. lifting her daughter in her arms,
she darted up the stairs. But at the
top of the first flight she paused, re-
penting ~ haste.
my baby may" she said, with
smile.
But, very few people in von.Alstyne's
fats believed the fairy tales of Miss
Marker.
When the widow and the artist met
on the stairs they bowed, but that
was all; and, though the little neigh
boris mamma gave permission OCCASION
ally. very often without permission the
little neighbor stole down to the
studio to have chats with the man who
painted pictures.
DO you know" said the little neigh
Dor one day, that my papa isn't in
the ground, like mamma said he WASP"
MOP" inquired the artist, more for
the sake of replying than because he
believed the statement
NO" affirmed the little neighbor,
che isn't Last night when mamma
linked me was asleep her looked him
out of little velvet box and kissted
him. Yes, she did. 'Phare Is 90, darr-
lin John?' her said. And then her
cried, an me cried, too. Me set right
up, cause me feeled bad, an me cried
me yollered, an mamma, she kissted
me, an we bofe kissed me faveP. Me
faver's boofer faver. Yes, heis"
II suppose So" indifferently re-
sponded the artist, going on with his
painting. II don't remember him"
And the little neighbours blue eyes
opened widely. 1t seemed SO strange
that every one did not know of
mammals treasure.
''Me does" she said. Me does"
And the artist, thinking of the
father, not the picture of the father,
sighed
YES" he remarked, absently, per
haps you do; though you were mere
abe"
One other day, one warm uncomfort-
able day in August, Mrs Brent, who
lived in the very uppermost fiat, and
who was the mother of three little
girls herself, came downto the door OF
the widows rooms and asked for the
company of the widows little
daughter.
MY husband and III Mrs. Brent said,
1--WE are going to spend the day at his
fathers farm. We thought it would do
the babes all SO much good, you
know" ,.
y So the little neighbor spent day on
q Long Island farrh, and the next day
her friend the artist heard all about
the cows and ducks and other rural
wonders
And" said the child, seSeryone has
favers in der tuntry; U1ofer favers
what plays wifi 'em, an isn't ways in
velvet boxes. | wis my faver was
playin' faver. Oh, dear wis my
faver was faver like uvcr dirlses
wis you was my faver."
And to-day. as the little girl crept
slowly down to the studio. her heart
longed as never before for father