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Updated: June 13, 2025
Even Sally's basket still remained filled, and she was always a more successful seller than timid little Pollie; so the elder girl had proposed trying westward for better luck.
She's named Miss Pollie and she's got a polypus." "I'm mighty glad my mama ain't got no Eva-pus in her head," was Jimmy's comment. "Ain't you glad, Billy, your Aunt Minerva ain't got no Miss Minervapus?" "I sho' is," fervently replied Miss Minerva's nephew; "she's hard 'nough to manage now like she is." "I'm awful good to Miss Pollie," said Frances.
Tallow candles were flaring in the narrow passage, people with pallid, haggard faces looked out from open room doors; yet with all this unwonted stir, there seemed to be a strange hushed awe upon them, as though they were calmed by the mysterious presence of a great calamity. When the man put Pollie down she glanced from one to another in trembling alarm, still clinging to her protector's hand.
"Come, come," she exclaimed, "don't yer talk like that, frightening this little gal in that way; you just quiet yourself, and then we'll see yer safe home." "Home!" was the response. "I have none, only the streets or the river." "Stuff and nonsense!" cried practical Sally. "No home!" repeated little Pollie; "how sad!"
Now I'm off to Covent Garding to the old 'ooman mother, I means, yer know. There St. Poll's a-strikin' ten; good-bye." So saying, the friendly Sally Grimes darted off amidst the crowd, leaving the child to manage for herself, and very lonely she felt after her good-natured ally was gone. It was Pollie Turner's first attempt at selling flowers, and this her first day.
Turner sat alone, busily sewing, but she heard her darling's well-known step come pattering up the stairs; so she put on the tea-kettle directly, for she knew the little one would be tired and hungry; and forthwith it began to sing cheerily, filling the room with its homely melody, as though it would say "Pollie is coming," "Pollie is coming;" and somehow the mother felt cheered.
"I say, Pollie," he said hesitatingly, "I be so lonesome here, will yer mind biding with me and telling me about the kingdom of heaven, and that good man what took such as you and me in his arms like you told me t'other day?"
"Well, Pollie, I have come to see you at last, and in return for the beautiful violets you gave me a year ago, I will, with our merciful Father's blessing us, put some roses on your white cheeks." My story is told! In a pretty lodge close to the gates of a magnificent park live Pollie and her dear long-suffering mother, but now as happy as it is possible for mortals to be.
"One never tires of hearing of deeds of bravery," answered Rob, dramatically. "Or of romantic adventures," added Pollie. Uncle Tom looked amused; but, after some hesitation, said; "Well, I will tell you an incident recalled by this pine-wood fire. It may seem extraordinary; but, having witnessed it myself, I can vouch for its truth.
Flanagan, some one who don't wear big heavy boots too; can't you hear?" Sally was right; for the kindly face of their neighbour appeared in the doorway, ushering in "the beautiful lady." "And so this is little Pollie," the sweet voice said, as, after speaking cheerfully to the widow and the others who were in the room, she stood beside the sick child.
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