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Updated: June 3, 2025
'No, no, Lemuel, you're going right to bed, like a good little brother, so Polly can get to sleep. Poor Polly is so tired, and Pauline walked up and down the floor of her tiny room trying to soothe the weary child. 'Hi! Poll's no 'count; she's only a gurl. I ain't goin' ter sleep nuther.
"The final Trotter Poll's pre-election analysis." A novice Literate advanced, handing him a big loose-leaf book, which he opened with the reverence a Literate always displayed toward the written word. "This," he said, "is going to surprise you.
After that I think we dozed in our chairs. The next thing I remember was a knock at the outer door. I opened my heavy eyes and stirred my stiff joints. The Boots put his head in, and I realised it was daylight. "Half-past eight, sir. Mr Cash is waiting downstairs. Poll's been open half an hour, he says." Before I left the hotel I struck a bargain with Cash.
Now, Mary was by no means ignorant of the enmity which this woman entertained against her father and family, in consequence of having prosecuted and transported her profligate son. Without the slightest apprehension on that account, she felt, however, a good deal puzzled as to the meaning which could be attached to Poll's words. "How, on my account, Poll? I don't understand you."
There was a parrot in a corner of the dining-room, and, when prayers were over, Mrs. praised it very highly for having been so silent; it being Poll's habit, probably, to break in upon the sacred exercises with unseemly interjections and remarks.
After they had exhausted farming, Little Poll's charms, and the neighbours, Agatha looked at Kate and said: "Katherine, what is this I hear about Robert coming here every day, now? It appeals to me that he must have followed my advice." "Of course he never would have thought of coming, if you hadn't told him so," said Kate dryly.
Wibird Hawkins, happening to get a sample of Poll's vituperative powers, pronounced him "a benighted heathen," and advised the Captain to get rid of him. A brace of turtles supplanted the parrot in my affections; the turtles gave way to rabbits; and the rabbits in turn yielded to the superior charms of a small monkey, which the Captain bought of a sailor lately from the coast of Africa.
Down the middle of the street paraded this extraordinary company, the seamen breaking into a song which ran: "In Bristowe I left Poll ashore, Well stored wi' togs an' gold, And off I go to sea for more, A-piratin' so bold. An' wounded in the arm I got, An' then a pretty blow; Comed home I find Poll's flowed away, Yo, ho, with the rum below!"
"We are agreed," Castalia quoted, reading over my shoulder, "that it is the object of life to produce good people and good books." We made no comment upon that. "A good man is at any rate honest, passionate and unworldly." "What a woman's language!" I observed. "Oh, dear," cried Castalia, pushing the book away from her, "what fools we were! It was all Poll's father's fault," she went on.
Will you just kindly begin at the beginning, and tell me every single word Robert said to you, and you said to him, that day?" "Why, I have informed you explicitly," said Agatha, using her handkerchief on the toe of Poll's blue shoe. "He mentioned going after you, and said what I told you, and I told him to go.
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