Our Next-Door Neighbors

In Short

This lighthearted work of early 20th-century domestic fiction tracks the life of Lucien and Silvia Wade, a refined couple whose peace is shattered when the neighboring Polydore children—an unruly brood of five—effectively adopt them. The story blends slapstick humor with the trials of accidental guardianship. Through a series of misadventures, including a getaway to a "haunted" summer retreat, the protagonists discover that their own lives are inextricably linked to these young, irrepressible spirits. It remains an enduring look at the collision between orderly adult lives and youthful, uninhibited chaos.

The Story

Lucien and Silvia Wade live a comfortable, childless existence in a quiet city until the Polydore family moves next door. The Polydore parents are preoccupied academics—a scientist and a historian—who ignore their five children, leaving the brood to fend for themselves. The children, led by the resourceful but mischievous eldest, Ptolemy, immediately begin treating the Wades’ home as their own, showing up for meals and creating domestic havoc. Their antics, which include everything from feeding tooth powder to pets to disrupting neighborhood quiet, eventually force the Wades to seek a temporary escape.

Seeking refuge, Lucien and Silvia flee to a remote lake resort called Hope Haven, hoping for a reprieve from the "Polydore habit." They take the youngest, Diogenes, with them, but their attempt at solitude is thwarted when the other children discover their whereabouts and follow them. Meanwhile, the Wades’ friends, Rob and Beth, become entangled in the situation. A series of misunderstandings involving "ghosts" in a nearby abandoned house and the arrival of a sharp-witted female reporter add layers of intrigue to their vacation. The "haunted" house becomes a meeting point where the children, the adults, and the wandering Polydore parents finally converge.

The narrative arc shifts from the Wades’ desperate desire to be rid of the children to a grudging acceptance of their role as guardians. When the children’s eccentric Uncle Issachar unexpectedly dies in South America, his passing leaves the Wades grappling with the financial and moral consequences of their new reality. While the couple initially fantasized about an empty house, they eventually realize the children have become part of their family. The story concludes with the Wades resigning themselves to their fate, committing to send the children to public school and embracing the chaotic, noisy reality of their household. The final scenes show the children—now "bought and paid for"—integrating into the couple’s life, as the Wades find a strange, begrudging satisfaction in their role as protectors of the very brood that once threatened their sanity.

How It Unfolds

The intrusion begins The story opens by establishing the Wades as a couple who have children "thrust upon them." The Polydore children establish a pattern of constant visitation, treating the Wades' home as a source of food and entertainment.

The flight to the country Desperate for quiet, the Wades attempt a secret vacation to Hope Haven, but their strategy fails when the children track them down. This middle section heightens the tension through the introduction of a local "haunted house" mystery.

The arrival of the parents The plot reaches a turning point when the wandering Polydore parents are finally located via the discovery of their research interests. Their reappearance forces the Wades to reconcile their desire for independence with the reality of their attachment to the children.

The final surrender The death of Uncle Issachar cements the Wades' commitment to the children's future. The story ends with the couple formally accepting their responsibilities, ending their attempts to escape the children and settling into a permanent, albeit noisy, domestic life.

The People

Lucien Wade is the narrator, a man who values his peace and order, yet finds himself increasingly drawn into the lives of the children. While he constantly threatens "extreme measures" to discipline them, his actions reveal a secret fondness. Silvia Wade, his wife, is initially appalled by the intrusion but grows protective. She is the emotional center of the home, eventually choosing to become a surrogate "mudder" to the neglected brood.

Ptolemy is the eldest and most cunning of the Polydores, often acting as a bridge between his siblings and the Wades. He is a "mind reader" who orchestrates the children's movements and constantly challenges the adults' authority. Diogenes, the youngest, is a perpetual source of both worry and affection, often found in precarious situations—such as falling out of windows—that demand the Wades' immediate attention. The secondary figures, Rob and Beth, provide a romantic subplot that mirrors the Wades’ struggles, as they too are forced to navigate the influence of the children. Together, the group moves from viewing the Polydores as "imps" to acknowledging them as their own family.

In Its Own Voice

Lucien reflects on the unexpected permanence of his situation after a long, trying day:

"We have no offspring of our own, but yesterday, today, and forever we have those of our neighbor."

Silvia expresses the weary frustration of a woman who originally hoped for a child-free existence:

"I don't see how you can be so fond of children. I did hope--for your sake and--on account of Uncle Issachar's offer that I'd like to have one--but I'd rather go to the poorhouse!"

Even in the face of chaos, Lucien finds himself acknowledging the boy's surprising depth:

"I liked the boy's defense of his mother, and I began to see that Rob was right in thinking there were possibilities in the lad."

What It's Really About

The book is a lighthearted exploration of the definition of family and the loss of personal autonomy. It asks whether one’s identity is defined by the life one chooses or the responsibilities one inherits. There is an underlying tension between the adult desire for a controlled, quiet environment and the uncontrollable, vital energy of childhood. The narrative suggests that domestic peace is often a fragile, temporary state, and that true belonging is not always a matter of blood relation, but of presence, patience, and the willingness to accept "imps" as one's own. It is a story about the transition from self-centered leisure to the messy, fulfilling burden of caretaking.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate early 20th-century domestic humor, characterized by a mix of witty dialogue and gentle satire of social conventions, will find this an engaging companion. It captures a specific period sentiment regarding the "natural" child—often seen as a creature of pure, sometimes destructive energy—that provides a refreshing contrast to modern, highly structured parenting narratives. The tone is consistently warm, even when the characters are at their most exasperated.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes toward child-rearing and discipline, which occasionally include mentions of physical punishment that were standard for the era but may feel jarring today. The language occasionally employs archaic slang and regional dialects that require a bit of patience to parse. Despite these dated elements, the core struggle—the attempt to balance personal ambition with the sudden, demanding needs of others—remains universally relatable. The brisk pace and the genuine, if begrudging, affection between the narrator and his young neighbors make this an easy, heartening read for those looking for a story about finding family in the most unexpected and inconvenient of places.