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Updated: June 13, 2025
Flanagan imagined of this canker at her heart; that page of her life was folded down, and closed to prying eyes; it was only when alone with God that on bended knees she prayed Him to bring the poor wanderer home. "Ah, my bird!" she cried, as Pollie came joyfully dancing into the room. "Here you are, then; I thought from what your mother said that such a lot of money had turned you a bit crazed."
"And does He want me in that beautiful land?" asked the awe-struck boy, almost in a whisper. "Yes, Jimmy, even you," was the reply. "But I be so dirty and ugly," he said. "God made you, dear, and He makes nothing ugly," replied the little girl soothingly. "And you say we shall never hunger or thirst in heaven, and never feel pain any more. O Pollie, I wish I was there; nobody wants me here."
"Well, I'll see about it," was the rejoinder. "My gown ain't special, but I've got such a hat! I bought it in Clare Market, with red, blue, and yaller flowers in it so smart!" "Oh, never mind your clothes," said Pollie, somewhat doubtful as to the effect such a hat would have on the teachers and pupils; "come as you are, only clean and tidy that is all they want."
The little indiscretion he had been guilty of with Fan she had forgiven in her heart: that he had actually conceived a fondness for this poor young girl she could not believe, for in that case he would have been very careful not to do anything to betray it to the woman he wished to marry; but though she had forgiven him, she was resolved not to let him know it just yet, and so continued to be a little distant and formal in her manner, never calling him by his christian name, "Jack," as formerly, and not allowing him to call her "Pollie."
Fan, covering her face with her hands, shrunk back against the wall, sobbing convulsively. "Oh, come, Pollie!" exclaimed Horton, "don't be so hard on the poor monkey she's a mere child, you know, and didn't think any harm." Miss Starbrow made no reply, but standing motionless looked at him watched his face with a fierce, dangerous gleam in her half-closed eyes.
"Where have you been, Pollie?" she asked as they went up Drury Court together, the poor girl staggering under the weight of a huge bundle the child kindly keeping pace with her, though longing to run home with her budget of good news to mother. "I've been selling violets. Mrs. Flanagan got them for me, and I've sold them all but two bunches see!"
There were only two rooms at the top part of the tenement one inhabited by good Mrs Flanagan, the other by Pollie and her mother; and though the apartments were small, and the narrow windows overlooked the chimney-pots and tiles, yet they felt it such an advantage to be up here, removed, as it were, from the noisy people who lived in the same dwelling; each room, in fact, was let out to separate families, some of them very rough and boisterous.
"Pollie," he said, "shall I go to the kingdom of heaven? Will Jesus put His hands on me, and bless me also?" The little girl could not speak for sobbing, but she laid her soft cheek upon his clay-cold hand.
"I know what it's to be!" cried Sally, who was becoming quite a scholar now; "it's plum-pudding." But Nora shook her head, saying "No, that is not the word I am going to make. Can you guess, Pollie?" "I don't think I can," was the reply. "Is it" "P stands for Pollie," cried out impetuous Sally, in her eagerness almost upsetting her basin of raisins upon the floor. "Perhaps it's that."
"O Pollie, I am so glad you have come home; I was getting so anxious and afraid, and the time seemed so long without you, my child." Then the little girl ran in and threw her arms around her mother's neck.
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