Popover
For a week the convalescent ward laughed and sang and almost
forgot that it was part of the big House of Suffering. Polly
herself beamed on everybody, and all the hospital people seemed to
agree that very good fortune had come to her, and to be glad in
it.
Then there came a hot day which tried the patience of the small
invalids. Polly flitted from cot to cot with her little
fluttering fan and her cooling drinks. The afternoon breeze had
not yet arrived when Brida MacCarthy begged for a story.
"It will have to be and old one," was the smiling response, for
Polly's supply of cat tales--the kind which the little Irish
girl invariably wanted--was limited.
"I don't care what 't is," whined Brida,--"anything 'bout a
kitty. Oh, don't I wisht I had me own darlin' Popover right here
in me arms!--Why don't yer begin?" urged the fretful voice,
for Polly sat gazing at the polished floor.
A kindly, fascinating scheme was taking shape in the story-teller's
brain.
"Oh, Brida," she cried, in suppressed eagerness, lowering her
voice to a whisper that should not reach Miss Lucy at the other
end of the ward, "I've thought of the loveliest thing! Your home
is n't very far from here, is it?"
"A good ways--why?" and Brida's little pale, freckled face
showed only mild interest.
"But where do you live--when you're home?" Polly insisted.
"'T 739 Liberty Street is right down by Union! I can find that
easy enough! Say, don't you s'pose your mother 'd let me take
Popover and bring her up here? You know Miss Lucy wants me to go
out to walk every day now."
"Oh, Polly!" the pale face grew pink with joy. "Sure, me mother
'd let her come! Oh, Polly, if you would!"
"I will! And I won't say a word to Miss Lucy about it till
Popover is here! It's her birthday to-day, and it'll be such a
beautiful surprise! I've been wishing and wishing we had
something to give her."
"Oh, not me darlin' kitty!" returned Brida, in sudden dismay.
"No, no!" laughed Polly reassuringly. "I only meant the
surprise. Popover can amuse the whole ward, and won't Miss Lucy
be pleased!"
"It'll be splendid!" beamed Brida. "How'd yer ever think of
it?"
"I don't know; but I'm glad I did," Polly went on happily. "And
perhaps we can keep her a week or so, if we'll let her have a
little of our milk--just you and I. You would n't mind, would
you?"
"Sure, I'll let her have all she can drink!" declared Brida.
"I guess I'd better go now," said Polly. "What is the number 7----"
"It's 739 Liberty Street," repeated Brida; "an old brown house
next to the corner."
Miss Lucy thought it was rather too warm for a walk, especially as
Polly was not very strong yet; but the little girl urged it with
such sparkling eyes that she finally let her go, bidding her keep
on the shady side of the street and not to 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, waiving the children's
eager questions.
"Oh, they sent to have her come somewhere!" answered Ethel
Jones. "She went in an awful hurry, and said prob'ly she'd be
back pretty soon; but she has n't come yet."
"She let Leonora be monitor," put in Elsie Meyer. "I guess she'd
'a' let me, if I'd been up."
"I wish she would come," said Polly anxiously, "for I want to
surprise her with Popover--it's Miss Lucy's birthday, you
know."
"Somebody's coming now," and Cornelius O'Shaughnessy bent his
head to listen. "'T ain't her step," he decided disappointedly,
and the next moment the tall form of Miss Hortensia Price was seen
in the doorway.
"Quick! Keep her out o' sight!" whispered Polly, pushing
Popover's little black head down under the sheet.
The stately young woman walked the length of the room without a
word, and calmly sat down at the small table where Miss Lucy was
accustomed to prepare her medicines and to make such notes as were
needful.
As Miss Price took up the little memorandum book and began to look
it over, Polly's heart almost stood still with consternation. She
had come to stay! Polly knew the signs. Such sudden shifts were
common enough in the hospital, but only twice, during Polly's
stay, had the occurred in the convalescent ward, and Miss Lucy had
been in charge for so long now that she had ceased giving herself
any worry over a possible change.
For a moment the little girl stood hesitant; then the sight of
Brida, white and scared on her pillow, roused her to quick
thought. If she could only smuggle Popover down into Dr Dudley's
office before she was discovered! Instinct told her that "High
Price" would never tolerate a kitten in the ward. She took one
step forward.
"Me-ew!" sounded faintly from Brida's cot.
The nurse raised her head, listened inquiringly, and then resumed
her work of examining the patients' records.
Polly stole nearer the bed.
"Me-ew!" came again, louder than before. This time there was no
mistaking its locality.
Miss Price sprang from her chair, and strode straight to where
Brida lay trembling. Popover's insistence for more air and a free
outlook was causing the coverlet to rise and fall in a startling
way.
"How came that cat here?" demanded the nurse, pulling aside the
bedclothing.
"I brought her," answered Polly. "She's Brida's kitty, and we
were going to give Miss Lucy a birthday surprise."
A faint smile flickered on the young woman's face. The she made
a grab at the now frightened kitten; but the little creature
slipped from her hand, and jumping to the floor dared towards the
hall.
"Oh, me dirlin' kitty!" wailed Brida. "She'll be losted! Oh,
Polly, ketch her!"
Polly, however, was already flying in pursuit of the terrified
cat.
"Shut that door!" called the mistress of the ward, as the eager
children rushed after. "And stay inside, all of you!"
Cornelius O'Shaughnessy reluctantly obeyed the first order, and
the rest trailed back in disappointment. So exciting a race was
not an everyday occurrence.
Polly, too far away to heed either command, was alarmed lest
Popover might manage to escape from the building, in which case
there would be small chance of catching her. On and on the little
cat led her, giving no ear to the coaxing, "Kitty, Kitty,
Kitty!" which she was constantly calling. Around and around the
big halls, up this flight of stairs and down that, into room after
room whose doors stood enticingly open, raced Popover and Poly,
while nurses and physicians that chanced their way stared and
laughed at the astonishing sight.
Just as the kitten reached the foot of the first-floor staircase,
with her pursuer close behind, the front door opened, and Popover
darted towards the passage of escape.
"Oh, shut the door quick! Catch her! Catch her! Don't let her get
out!"
This most unexpected command, in Polly's voice, Dr. Dudley
endeavored to obey. He did succeed in slamming the door in front
of pussy, though at the risk of nipping her little black nose; but
when he stooped to snatch her she slipped between his feet, and
dashed into his office. Polly flew after, and the door went
together just as the Doctor reached it.
"Rather an unusual reception this is," he twinkled, as Polly let
him in, a minute later. "Frighten me out of my wits by screaming
at me to catch a wild animal, and then, when I've done my best,
shut the door of my office right in my face! What do you mean by
such extraordinary conduct, Miss Polly May?" The physician shook
a threatening finger and the flushed and laughing little girl.
"You don't look very scared," she giggled; and then as he
dropped into his lounging-chair she slipped into her favorite
position, atilt on its arm, and leaned confidingly against him.
"Oh, I've had such a time with that kitten!" she sighed, smiling
across at the little creature, now curled up contentedly on the
Doctor's fur rug.
"I take it, by the way you are breathing, that you and the cat
have been having a race."
"All over everywhere," answered Polly, "till I thought I'd never
catch her. You see she was going to be a birthday surprise to
Miss Lucy, and High Price went and spoiled it all."
The story of the afternoon was narrated in Polly's most vivid
style.
"Is n't it queer that High Price should come just then?" she
sighed. "I don't like her; do you?"
"She is an excellent young woman and a good nurse," Dr. Dudley
returned.
"Well, I don't want her for my nurse," Polly maintained soberly.
"Still, if you were very sick," smiled the Doctor, "I could not
hope for better care than she would give you."
"Oh, if I were awfully sick, and out of my head, maybe High Price
would do; but if I knew anything I should want Miss Lucy." And
Polly's curls waved in emphasis.
Dr. Dudley chuckled responsively.
"I don't think you appreciate Miss Lucy," Polly continued.
The Doctor's eyebrows went up. "Don't I?" he returned meekly.
"You don't act as if you did," Polly sighed; "and I want you to,
for she's so sweet and little and--cuddly, you know. You could
n't call High Price cuddly; could you?"
"It is n't a term I should apply to her," agreed the Doctor,
with the hint of a smile.
"Miss Lucy would have liked Popover going to get along without
Miss Lucy, 'specially at bedtime."
"What does she do then?"
"Oh, we tell stories!--at least, I do, and sometimes she does,
and generally we sing--real soft, you know, so it won't disturb
anybody. Then she says a little prayer, and we go to bed. Dear
me, how we shall miss her! Why, the other night, when Aimee's arm
ached, Miss Lucy took her right in her lap, and rocked her to
sleep! And when little Isabel cries for her mamma, Miss Lucy's
just as nice to her, and cuddles her p so sweet! This is the way
High Price will do: she'll say, 'Is-a-bel'" (and Polly's tone was
in almost exact imitation of the nurse's measured accent), "'lie
still and go to sleep! The ward must be kept quiet.'"
Dr. Dudley laughed. Then the said gravely:--
"Do you think that is really fair--to accuse Miss Price of
what she may never do? Besides, Polly, it is n't quite
respectful."
"No, I suppose it is n't," the little girl admitted. "Excuse me,
please. But I wish you could know the difference between High
Price and Low Price."
The Doctor's eyes twinkled; but Polly, all unseeing, went on:--
"How soon do you think Miss Lucy'll come back? Where is she
now?"
"She has been assigned to one of the women's wards. It is
uncertain when she will be changed again."
"Well, I s'pose we'll have to stand it," sighed Polly
philosophically. "Why, Popover!" for the kitten had come up
unnoticed, and now jumped to the Doctor's knee. "Is n't she cute?
Brida thinks lots of her--there!" she broke out compunctiously,
"I forgot all about Brida, and she does n't know what's become of
her! I must run up and tell her. Will it be very much trouble
to keep her here till to-morrow? Thin I'll carry her home."
"Suppose we taker her home in the auto, after tea?"
"Oh, lovely!"
Dr. Dudley was looking at his watch.
"Is it 'most tea-time?" Polly inquired.
"They are probably all through up in the convalescent ward," he
laughed. "You'd better come into the dining-room and have supper
with me."
"Oh, thank you; that will be nice! I'll run up and tell Brida,
and then I'll come."