img Polly  /  Chapter 1 A GREAT MISFORTUNE. | 2.56%
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Polly

Polly

Author: L. T. Meade
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Chapter 1 A GREAT MISFORTUNE.

Word Count: 1568    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

as abroad; the whole world seemed lapped in a sort of drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. Even the flowers bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds after a time ceased singing, and got

land was covered with heather, not yet in flower, and with bracken, which was already putting on its autumn glory of yellow and red. Neither the bracken nor the heather minded the July heat, but the butterflies though

s and hawthorn bushes, and beyond the hedge was a wide dyke, and at the top o

ficiently endowed with curiosity to glance his bright eyes in that direction, might have been seen smoke,

ose arbor, and even a great, wide, cool-looking tent. But as far as human life was concerned the whole place looked absolutely deserted. The pigeons cooed languidly, and the dogs yapped and yawned, and made ferocious snaps at audacious and troublesome flies. But no one handled the tennis bats, nor took up the croquet mallets; no one stopp

mooth grass. Several birds had taken refuge in this fragrant hedge of hawthorn and wild roses. They were talking to one another, keeping up a perpetual chatter; but whenever the girl stirred a twig, or disturbed a branch, they stopped, looking around them in alarm, but none of them as yet seeing the prone, slim figure, which was, indeed, almost covered by the grasses. Perfect stillness once more-the birds resumed their conversation, and the girl made another s

e got quite under them, made a sudden upward, dexterous movement, and laid a warm, detaining hand on each thrush. The deed was done-the little prisoners were secured. She gave a low laugh of ecstasy,

"Poll, you're wanted at the house this minute. Where are you hiding?-

never, never had two of you in my arms at the same moment before. It's always so. I'm always

ooking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of grass and twig st

to, you scamps?-can'

Pol

walk at the other side of the wire fence. They

's a b-b-baby come. Polly Perkins-Poll Parrot, you'd bet

ce, and kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, pant

baby that will scream and wriggle up its face! But it can't be. Oh, heavenly! oh,

idn't it yell, just! And Helen came, and said to send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don't kn

wful going to happen. Stay out in the garden, you two boys-make yourselves sick with gooseberries, if you like, only don't come near

house. When she approached the porch the dogs all got up in a body to meet her

n-go to sleep. If you even give a yelp I'll come out by and

s standing in the

-I'm delighted at that. But why is Helen crying, and-

sobbed loudly. "We didn't know where you was, miss-it's, it's-We have been looking for you

aint, or do anything silly. And I'm not going to cry either. Where's Helen? If there's anything

dogs. There was no other sound of any sort. The intense stillness of the house had a half-stunning,

"you've come at last. Where we

"I want her-let me go to her-l

Pol

and distressful. There was a new ba

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