Polly of the Hospital Staff | Page 3

Lucy related to her for anything!"
"Oh, no!" returned Ethel, comprehendingly, as she scraped her plate for
a last morsel of pudding.
The three "cases," which appeared in the convalescent ward promptly
at the hour named, proved to be two girls and a boy,-- Brida MacCarthy,
Isabel Smith, and Moses Cohn. Polly did her share in routing the
evident fears of the small strangers, their wide, anxious eye showing
that they dreaded what might lie ahead of them in these unknown
quarters.
The wonderful giant story, which ended merrily,--as all of Polly's
stories did end,--made Moses her valiant follower as long as he
remained in the ward; the tender little slumber song, which Polly's
mother had taught her, put the tiny Isabel to sleep; and the verses about
the "Kit-Cat Luncheon" completely won the heart of Irish Brida.

"I got a kitty, too!" she confided. "Her name's Popover, 'cause when the
kitties was all little, an' runnin' round, an' playin', she'd pop right over
on her back, jus' as funny! She's all black concept[sic] a little spot o'
white--oh, me kitty is the prettiest kitty in town!"
"How shall I ever get along without her!" sighed the young nurse, as
she watched Polly flitting about like a sprite, comforting restless little
patients, hushing, with her ready tact, quarrelsome tongues, and
winning every heart by her gentle, loving ways. Oh, the ward would be
lonely indeed without Polly May! None realized this more than Miss
Lucy, unless it were Dr. Dudley, the cherry house physician, whom all
the children adored.
As the day set for Polly's going came near and nearer, the mourning of
the small convalescents increased, until the ward would have been in
danger of continual tears if it had not been for Polly herself. She was
gayer than ever, telling the funniest stories and singing the merriest
songs, and making her little friends half forget that the good times were
not going to last. The children never guessed that this was almost as
much to help herself over the hard place as to cheer them. In fact, they
believed that her unusual high spirits came of her being glad to leave
the hospital. Even Miss Lucy could n't quite understand it all. But Dr.
Dudley knew; he had seen her face when she had been told that she was
soon to go.
It was not strange that Polly should dread parting from the people with
whom she had been so happy, for no mother or father or pleasant home
was waiting for her,--only Aunt Jane, in the cramped, dingy little
tenement,--Aunt Jane and her six unruly girls and boys. Poly did not
permit herself to think much about going away, however, and the last
evening found her cheerful still. Then Elsie Meyer began her doleful
suggestions.
"I wonder how often your Aunt Jane 'll let you come and see us. P'r'aps
she won't let you come at all--oh, my! If she don't, maybe we'll never
see you again!"
"Nonsense, Elsie! Don't go to conjuring up any such thing!" broke in

Miss Lucy's laughing voice. "Of course--why, Polly!" For the little girl
had been brought suddenly face to face with an awful possibility, and
her courage had given way. She was sobbing on the foot of Elsie's bed.
A low rap on the half-open door sent Miss Lucy thither, and Polly
heard Dr. Dudley speak her name. A new terror took instant possession
of her heart. The Doctor had come to take her home! She did not stop
to reason. Dropping to the floor, she crept softly under the cot, from
there to the next and the next. Her course was straight to the door
through which the physician had entered, and by the time he was
halfway across the room she had wriggled herself clear of the last cot,
and was over the sill and in the corridor, the twilight aiding her escape.
Regaining her feet, she darted noiselessly down the long hall. At the
head of the stairs she paused. On the floor below was a small alcove
where she might hide. Making sure that no one was in sight, she sped
down, but as she reached the lower step one of the nurses opened the
door opposite.
"What are you doing down here, Polly May?"
The question was pleasant, but the answer was miserably halting.
"I--I--thought--I'd just--come--"
"Did Miss Price send you for anything?"
This time the child detected a ring of suspicion.
"Oh, no! I--I--"
"Well, you'd better go right back. It is too late to be running around for
play. The halls must be kept quiet."
"Yes, Miss Bemont," responded Polly meekly, and turned to see Dr.
Dudley at the head of the flight.
There was nothing to do but to go forward, which she did,