THREE LITTLE GIRLS AND POLLY PERKINS
There is no telling how this tug of war might have ended, three little
girls pulling away at poor Polly Perkins, if Ailie had not dropped
Granny’s bottle of medicine in the snow.
‘Och me!’ cried Ailie, and let go of Polly at once. Granny must have
her medicine, even though it meant that Ailie would never hold Polly in
her arms again.
Fortunately the bottle was not broken. And by the time Ailie had picked
it up, one of the ladies, the taller one, who later proved to be
Grandmother King, had stepped forward and taken Polly Perkins out of
the hands of Anne Marie and of her little granddaughter, Patty King.
‘Let me see the doll, children,’ said Grandmother quietly. ‘I can tell
in a moment, Patty, whether it is your Polly Perkins or not, for I made
her, you know.’
Of course it was Patty’s Polly Perkins. It took only a glance to tell
Grandmother so. But once that point was settled, Grandmother looked at
the three little girls standing before her and scarcely knew what to do
or say next.
For each little girl wanted Polly Perkins, oh! so badly. You could tell
it only to look at them, though no one said a word.
Patty’s arms were stretched out toward Polly, and there was a look of
surprise on her face as if she couldn’t understand why Grandmother
didn’t give her the dolly that had been made expressly for her.
Anne Marie had clasped her red-mittened hands tightly together, her
eyes were big and round, and she looked as if in one moment more she
would sit right down on the sidewalk and begin to cry.
While Ailie, clutching her bottle of medicine close, pressed her lips
together in a thin little line and winked her blue eyes as fast as ever
she could.
‘Not that I’m thinking of crying,’ said Ailie McNabb to herself.
‘Well,’ spoke Grandmother at last, with a smile straight into the eyes
of each little girl, ‘well, I have often heard of one mother with three
children, but I never before knew of three mothers and only one child.’
At this Patty and Anne Marie each mustered up a faint smile, but not
Ailie. This was no time for smiling, thought she.
‘Now I know one of you mothers well,’ went on Grandmother in her
pleasant voice. ‘It is my own little granddaughter Patty, for whom I
made this dolly when she was paying me a visit not long ago. But won’t
you two little girls tell me who you are and how you both happen to
think that Polly Perkins belongs to you?’
Anne Marie was glad of a chance to speak.
‘I am Anne Marie Durant,’ said she, making a polite little curtsy to
Grandmother as Maman had taught her to do, ‘and my papa owns the
Bakery down there on the corner. “FRENCH PASTRY SHOP” the sign says
over the door. And one rainy day I was looking from the window. We
live just over the shop, you know, Papa and Maman and Grand’mère and
I. And I saw a box fall from a wagon. No one came for the box, there
it lay in the rain, so I ran down and picked it up, and in the box was
Polly Perkins. We could not find to whom the box belonged. Grand’mère
had burned the paper wrapped about it. And so I kept Polly Perkins.
Grand’mère said, too, the Saints had sent her to me. And yesterday I
lost her, lost her from this sled. And that is all,’ said Anne Marie,
quite out of breath, finishing off her long speech with another little
curtsy and a smile.
‘I know your Bakery well, Anne Marie,’ said Patty’s mother. ‘I go there
almost every day, I think.’
It was now Ailie’s turn to speak, and speak she did, but her voice was
so low that she could scarcely be heard.
Grandmother managed to understand her, however, and when Ailie had
finished her story, Grandmother drew her close to her side and patted
her softly upon the shoulder.
‘Of course I understand just how it was,’ said Grandmother kindly.
‘Anne Marie lost Polly yesterday in the snow and Ailie picked her up.
In a way Polly Perkins does belong to each one of you three little
girls. Now let me think for a moment.’
Grandmother stood quite still, with her foot tapping the sidewalk in a
way that Patty knew very well. Without a doubt Grandmother was making
up her mind about something.
Then Grandmother took Mother by the arm and walked up the street with
her, talking busily all the while.
Patty and Anne Marie and Ailie stared at one another, already looking
much happier, all three, and even smiling a little now and then. For
somehow they all felt that Grandmother was going to make everything
come out right, though how she would do it they didn’t even try to
guess.
Grandmother still held Polly Perkins in her arms, and over
Grandmother’s shoulder Polly smiled sweetly down in a way that was
pleasant to see. Patty couldn’t help thinking that Polly’s brown eyes
held a special look for her. But then who knows that Anne Marie and
Ailie were not thinking the very same thing?
At last back came Mother and Grandmother to where the little girls
stood.
‘Remember,’ Mother was saying with a shake of the head, ‘that Christmas
is only one week away.’
‘I know it,’ answered Grandmother, who no longer tapped her foot, ‘but
I have done much harder things than this. Besides, you will help me, I
am sure.’
What did Grandmother mean? The children couldn’t imagine, nor did they
have time to try.
For Grandmother had made up her mind what she meant to do, and at once
she started Mother and Patty and Anne Marie off for the Bakery, and
Grandmother and Polly Perkins and Ailie set out for Ailie’s house.
Now this is a strange thing, but one quite apt to happen in a large
city. It turned out that Patty and Anne Marie and Ailie lived almost
within a stone’s throw of one another.
It was this way. On the corner of two streets lived Anne Marie,
upstairs over her Bakery, as you know. On one of these two streets, in
her large white apartment house, lived Patty. On the other of these
streets, at the tiptop of her tall, tall building, lived wee Ailie
McNabb.
Well, Mother and Patty and Anne Marie went straight to the Bakery, and
there it was discovered that Maman knew Mrs. King very well. Had not
Mrs. King for years bought her rolls and bread, her cakes and tarts, at
the ‘FRENCH PASTRY SHOP’? Out of the golden cage stepped Maman. Papa
Durant was sent for and hastily came up from the kitchen, bowing and
smiling and rubbing his hands as he always did when very well pleased.
The story of Polly Perkins was told from the very beginning, and
then Mother delivered Grandmother’s invitation, that came as a great
surprise to the little girls who heard it.
‘Might Anne Marie come to spend the afternoon with Patty on Christmas
Eve? The hour, four o’clock.’
Anne Marie and Patty squeezed one another’s hands in rapture at the
thought.
‘Certainly, certainly,’ answered Maman and Papa Durant. ‘We shall be
only too delighted to accept for Anne Marie.’
Down at the end of the street, Grandmother, holding Ailie’s little
red hand, slowly climbed the four long flights of stairs that led to
Ailie’s home.
Into the poor little room stepped Grandmother, at once setting startled
Granny McNabb at ease by her smile and pleasant manner, even before she
had time to explain what errand had brought her there.
‘Take a spoonful of this medicine before we say a word, Mrs. McNabb,’
said Grandmother, placing a chair close by Granny’s side, ‘for Ailie
tells me it will cure your cough as quick as a wink.’
By the time Grandmother had finished her talk and was ready to go, she
and Granny McNabb had become good friends.
‘You must let me look after you a bit until Aunt Elspeth’s ship comes
in,’ said Grandmother, as she was leaving. ‘We live only around the
corner and are neighbors, you know. At least we would be neighbors if
we were out in the country, where I live most of the year. I shall
bring around to-day the broth I told you of, that helped me when I had
a cough like yours. And I am sure that my little granddaughter Patty
has a number of outgrown clothes that will fit your good wee Ailie here.
‘Don’t forget the party, Ailie, on Christmas Eve, at four o’clock.’
And Grandmother, still carrying Polly Perkins, went carefully down the
stairs, leaving Ailie to rush back into the room to tell Granny over
and over again just how it had all happened.
‘She is a grand good friend,’ said Granny with a nod of her head. ‘You
can read it in her face.’
‘Aye, that you can,’ answered wee Ailie.