Polly of the Hospital Staff | Page 6

stay out too long.
Polly reached Liberty Street where it was crossed by Union, but was
taken somewhat aback when she looked at a number on the west side
and found it to be only 452.
"Never mind!" was her second thought; "there are not quite three
hundred numbers more, and half of those are on the other side; besides,
they skip lots of them."
So she walked on contentedly, keeping track of the numbers as she
passed along. They counted up fast, the houses were so thickly set.
Polly thought the occupants must all be out of doors, for lounging men
and women filled the doorways, and the sidewalks were scattered with
children. The air grew hot and stifling and full of disagreeable odors.
The little girl half wished that she had not come. Then she remembered
how pleased Brida would be to see her kitten again, and that gave her
new strength and courage.
She was very tired when she came to the little shop numbered 703; but
with the glad thought that the "brown house" could not be far off she
began to look for it.

Directly across her way was stretched a jumping rope, which, as she
was about to step over, the girls at either end whirled up in front of her.
To the astonishment of the mischievous tricksters, Polly skipped into
time as adroitly as the most expert rope-jumper could have wished, and
the giggling pair almost forgot their part. But they recovered
themselves to give Polly a half-dozen skips. Then, clearing the rope
with a graceful bound, she turned to one of the girls.
"Can you tell me, please, where Mrs. MacCarthy lives?--Brida
MacCarthy's mother?"
With a second surprise on her freckled face, the child pointed to a fat,
red-cheeked woman, who was cooling herself with a big palm-leaf fan,
in a basement doorway just beyond.
"Thank you," was the polite response, and Polly descended the short
flight of steps into the bricked area.
The woman looked up expectantly.
"I'm Polly May, of the hospital staff," the little girl announced modestly,
"and Brida would like her kitten, please."
The smile on Mrs. MacCarthy's face expanded into a big, joyous laugh.
"Does she now? Moira! Katie! D'ye here that? Brida's sint f'r her cat!
Sure an' she moost be gittin' 'long rale well! An' ye're from th' hospital!
Moira! Where's yer manners? Fetch th' little lady a chair! Katie, git a
mug o' wather an' wan o' thim big crackers. Don't ye know how to trate
comp'ny?"
In a minute Polly was seated, a china mug of water in one hand, and a
crisp soda biscuit in the other, while the MacCarthy family circled
around her, eager for news from the beloved Brida. There were only
encouraging accounts to give of the little girl with the broken ankle; but
they led to so many questions that Polly began to wonder how she
should ever escape from these friendly people, when Popover herself
solved the question.

The pretty black kitten suddenly appeared at the visitor's side, and at
the first caressing word from Polly jumped into her lap.
"D' ye see that?" cried the delighted mother, and in the momentary
excitement Polly arose and said that she must go.
Brida's sisters and small brother accompanied her for two blocks up the
street, and then, with numerous good-byes, they left her to her long,
wearisome walk.
She had not gone far before she realized that the warm little animal was
more of a burden than she had counted on, exhausted as she was
already with her unusual exercise; but she kept up courageously, even
making little spurts of speed as she would wonder if Miss Lucy were
becoming anxious about her. After awhile, however, instead of
hurrying, she was obliged to stop now and then on a corner, to catch the
breeze coming up from the sea, for she felt strangely faint. When she
finally trudged up Hospital Hill, the air grew cool all at once, and she
quite forgot herself for thinking of Brida and Miss Lucy.
At the door of the ward she paused for a peep. The nurse was not in
sight. A few of the children were gathered at the windows with books
and pictures; several were on the floor playing quiet games. So softly
did she step that nobody knew she was there until she was well in the
room. The, spying both her and the kitten, there was a shout and a rush.
"No, you can't have her yet!" cried Polly, as small hands were
outstretched to lift the now uneasy burden from her arms. "Brida has
first right, because it's her kitten."
"Oh, Popover!" squealed the little owner delightedly, snuggling the
furry creature to her cheek.
"Where's Miss Lucy?" demanded Polly,