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1836–1902

MASTER JOHNNY'S NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR

Bret Harte

It was spring the first time that I saw her, for her papa and mamma moved in Next door, just as skating was over, and marbles about to begin; For the fence in our back yard was broken, and I saw, as I peeped through the slat, There were “Johnny-jump-ups” all around her, and I knew it was spring just by that.

I never knew whether she saw me, for she did n't say nothing to me, But “Ma! here's a slat in the fence broke, and the boy that is next door can see.” But the next day I climbed on our wood-shed, as you know Mamma saysI've a right, And she calls out, “Well, peekin’ is manners!” and I answered her, “Sass is perlite!”

But I was n't a bit mad, no, Papa, and to prove it, the very next day, When she ran past our fence in the morning I happened to get in her way,— For you know I am “chunked” and clumsy, as she says are all boys of my size,— And she nearly upset me, she did, Pa, and laughed till tears came in her eyes.

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MASTER JOHNNY'S NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR · Bret Harte · Poetry Cove