when I first came to lodge here; for, as I am
an old bachelor, I don't want a whole house to myself; but now, when I
sit at my window and look out at the street, I find no end of things to
amuse and interest me; particularly when the gas is lighted of an
evening, and I can see a little way into the parlors of the opposite
neighbors. I suppose they know that an old bachelor like Josiah Oldbird
can do no harm by looking on at their evening amusements; so they do not
pull the blinds down if they chance to see me, sitting lonely at my
window, and willing to accept such crumbs of their society and happiness
as I can glean over the way.

First, then, is the family at No. 7, three maiden sisters and a bachelor
brother. As I don't in the least know their names, I have dubbed them
the Bluejays, because the three maiden sisters always wear blue merino
gowns in winter, and blue muslin ones in summer; and because they are
all so fond of singing that no family of birds could be more musical.
They have a pet poodle and a pet squirrel, too. The poodle is very fat,
and his hair sticks out so much all over him, that he looks perpetually
astonished, as if he had just seen a spook. He always stands on the
window sill, when the sash is raised of an afternoon, and glares into
the street until he sees the bachelor brother coming. Then he achieves a
series of frantic yells and bounces, until somebody comes to open the
door and lets him out, when he waddles to the front steps to meet his
master, wagging his tail to that tremendous extent, that it looks like
the shuttle of a steam power loom.

The squirrel is slim and sleek, and seems to enjoy life amazingly, he
hops about so. When one of the Miss Bluejays takes him in her arms, he
won't stay there, but gets away, and walks all over her head and
shoulders; and at last runs down her back and disappears.

Then, at No. 11, a very fat gentleman lives with his fat and pretty
wife, and round dumpling of a baby. As I don't know him either, I call
him Mr. Fatty, and he seems to be a "good-natured giant." I saw a little
boy actually stop short to stare at him the other day, when he was
sitting out at his front door--he is such a regular roly-poly of a
gentleman--but he only laughed good-temperedly, and never got vexed in
the least. I don't advise you to try this with all fat gentlemen though;
they might accidentally sit down on a chair--where you were--afterward,
and that would be the last of you. Thi