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Updated: July 17, 2025
And stubborn pride is something bad; isn't it, Marraine?" "Well, yes, it is," agreed Marraine, "when it is stubborn pride, Pollykins. But when one has empty hands and empty purse and well, an empty life, too, Pollykins, it is not stubborn pride to try to fill them with work and care and pity and help." "And that is what you do at the hospital, Marraine?" "It is what I try to do, Pollykins.
"And and you don't mind it if " "If she is with the Little Sisters of the Poor, Pollykins? Not a bit! Some day I may be there myself. Now that this tempest in a teapot is over, you can all go off and finish your games. I am going to sit under this nice old tree and talk to Miss Winnie's boy."
The voices grew sharp, shrill, excited, and then little Polly burst impetuously into his hiding place, a sobbing, trembling, indignant little Polly, followed by a score of breathless young guests. "I don't believe it!" she was crying tempestuously. "I won't believe it! You're just telling horrid stories on Dan, because I like him and he got the prize." "O Pollykins!
But there was no work for me here; and so I looked around, Pollykins, for my work and my place. If I had been very, very good, I might have folded my butterfly wings under a veil and habit, and been a nice little nun, like Sister Claudine." "Oh, I wouldn't have liked that at all!" said Polly, with a shiver. "I'm afraid I wouldn't either," was the laughing answer.
"I do, indeed," sighed Mrs. Oliver. "You are certainly in no danger of being spoiled by luxury in your youth, my poor little Pollykins; but you will get all these things some time, I feel sure, if they are good for you, and if they belong to you. You remember the lines I read the other day: "'Hast not thy share?
Pollykins!" came Miss Stella's low, chiding voice. "Halloo! halloo! What's the trouble?" rose dad's deep tones above the clamor. "My little girl crying, crying?" "Yes, I am!" was the sobbing answer. "I can't help it, dad. The girls are all whispering mean, horrid stories about Dan, and I made them tell me all they said they had heard. I don't believe them, and I won't believe them!
Now, I've settled Buck McKee's hash by putting Slim Hoover wise to that tongue-slittin'. Oh, I'll bring Bud around, all right, all right, even if men that ought to be his friends go back on him." "But, Pollykins " "Don't you girlie me, Jack Payson. I'm a woman, and I'm goin' to be a married one, too, in spite of all you do to Bud. Yes, sirree, bob.
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