Polly Gardner had been spending her vacation with Aunt Mary in the
country. She would have been "perfectly happy" but that her father and
mother were obliged to remain in the city. It was five weeks since she
had seen them, and it seemed to Polly like five months.
One lovely afternoon Polly sat on the horse-block idly kicking one foot
backward and forward, watching Aunt Mary as she drove off on a visit to
a sick neighbor. Birds were singing, bees were humming, and the slender
branches of the great gray-green willows that shadowed the road moved
softly with every light puff of wind. Away off in the field over the
hills Polly could hear the ring of the mowers' scythes. Everything was
so pleasant and peaceful that she wished her parents were there to enjoy
it with her.
Just as Aunt Mary was hidden from sight by a bend in the road, she heard
the crunching of wheels in the opposite direction, and, on looking up,
found it was another wagon, driven by Mr. Ward, the grocer and postman
of Willow Grove. He checked his horse at the gate, and began fumbling
slowly in his coat pocket for something.
After considerable searching, he drew out a white envelope, and turned
it first one way and then another, shook his head, and began feeling in
his pockets again, brought forth his spectacles, adjusted them carefully
upon his nose, and once more began examining the letter. At last he read
in a loud voice:
"'Miss Polly Gardner, in care of Mrs. Mary West, Willow Grove. In
haste.'" Then he peeped over his glasses severely at Polly, and asked,
sharply, "Who's Miss Polly Gardner? Do you know, little girl?"
"Oh, that's _me_!" cried Polly, jumping from the horse-block, "and Mrs.
Mary West is aunty. Please give me my letter. It's from mamma. I am so
glad!"
"Can you read?" asked Mr. Ward, still holding the letter far above
Polly's reach.
"Yes, of course," cried Polly, indignantly. "I'm nine years old next
week."
"Wery well, Miss Polly Gardner, here's your letter. But if your mar
hadn't put 'In haste' on the outside of it, you would have had to come
and fetch it yourself," said Mr. Ward, as he handed the letter down to
Polly.
"Thank you ever so much," said Polly, tearing her letter open nervously.
After reading it once, she said "Oh!" in a delighted voice.
"Nothing the matter?" inquired Mr. Ward, who still sat looking at Polly.
"No; but mother and father are coming to-day, if this is the 24th of
August."
"Yes, it's the 24th. But let's see your letter, and I can tell you what
they mean."
Polly handed her letter back to Mr. Ward, who read it aloud slowly:
"'DEAREST POLLY,--Papa finds he can leave his business for a short
time, so we have concluded to spend the remainder of your vacation
with you and Aunt Mary. We shall take the train that reaches Willow
Grove at 4.30 P. M. on the 24th. Tell Aunt Mary to meet us if she
has time.
"'Love to all, and a thousand kisses from
"'MAMMA AND PAPA.'
"Well," said Mr. Ward, as he gave Polly back her letter, "they'll be
here in about a half-hour, for it's almost four now. I guess I'll be
moving; it's time I was back to the store." So he chirped to his horse,
turned the wagon, and was soon out of sight.
As Aunt Mary would not return before five o'clock, Polly determined to
walk down to the railroad station, and meet her father and mother alone.
She had often been there with Aunt Mary to watch the trains come and go.
It was a small station, and very few people stopped there.
Just before reaching the station the railroad crossed a draw-bridge.
Polly liked to watch the man open and shut the draw as the boats in the
river passed through. There was a foot-path over this bridge, and Polly
had once crossed it with Aunt Mary. They had stopped to speak to the
flagman, who was pleasant and good-natured. He told Polly where she
could find some beautiful white lilies in a pond not far away. That was
more than a week ago, and the flowers were not then open, and now as
Polly ran down the road she thought she would have time to gather some
for her parents before the train arrived.
When Polly reached the station she found no one there, and on looking at
the clock, saw that it was only ten minutes past four, so she had twenty
minutes to wait. Then she ran on quickly.
The flagman stood by the draw, and Polly saw, some distance down the
river, a small vessel coming toward the bridge. She ran along rapidly,
and as she passed the flagman he called out:
"Going for the lilies? The pond was all white with them when I went by
this morning."
"Yes, sir; I want to pick some for mamma and papa. They wrote me a
letter and said they were coming in the next train."
"You don't say so! Well, I guess you're glad. Look out for the
locomotive, and don't take too long picking your flowers, and you'll
have plenty of time to get back before the train comes in."
Polly thanked him and ran on. In about five minutes she reached the
pond. How lovely the lilies looked, with their snowy cups resting upon
the dark water! But their stems were long and tough, and most of them
grew far beyond her reach. She contrived to secure four. Polly was sorry
to leave so many behind, but was afraid if she lingered too long she
would miss the train. So, gathering up the blossoms, she pinned them
into her belt, and scampered back toward the bridge.
The boat had just sailed through the draw, and the man stood ready to
close the bridge, when Polly came up. He looked over at her from the
centre of the bridge, and called out with a smile:
"Couldn't you get any more flowers than those? If I had time to go to
the pond, you should have as many as you could carry."
Polly smiled back at him, and then began to watch him as he made ready
to turn the great bridge back into place for the train to pass over. His
hand was already on the crank, when a rope dangling over the railing of
the bridge attracted his attention. As he tried to pull it in, it seemed
to be caught underneath. Polly watched him lean over to get a better
hold, when, to her great horror, the piece of railing to which he held
gave way.
There was a sudden scream, and a great splash in the water. But before
the waves of the swiftly flowing river closed over him, Polly heard the
cry,
"The train!--the flag!"
Poor little Polly! She was so alarmed for the poor man's safety that for
some moments she could think of nothing else, and ran backward and
forward wringing her hands in despair. As he arose to the surface she
saw that he made frantic gestures to her, and pointed up the road from
which the train was to come. He seemed to be able to keep himself above
water with very little effort, and Polly saw with joy that the accident
had been observed by the occupants of the vessel. The man in the water
struck out toward the boat, and Polly could hear shouts and cheers from
the men on board.
All at once she was startled by the far-off whistle of the approaching
locomotive. In a moment she understood the meaning of the flagman's
gestures. She looked at the open space and then at the bridge. In five
minutes or less the train would come dashing into that terrible chasm.
Polly's hair almost rose on her head with horror. It was as much as she
could do to keep her senses.
There must be some way to avert the awful calamity. She ran swiftly
along toward the rapidly approaching train. Lying on the ground just by
the small wooden house where the flagman generally sat, Polly saw a red
flag. She remembered having heard that this flag was used in case of
danger, or when there was any reason for stopping the cars. She did not
know whether there was yet time, but she seized the flag and flew wildly
up the track.
"Oh, my papa! oh, my mamma!" she cried; "they will fall into the river
and be drowned! What shall I do?" and Polly waved the flag backward and
forward as she ran.
Then came the train around the curve. She could see the white steam
puffing from the pipe, and could hear the panting of the engine.
"I know they'll run over me, but if mamma and papa are killed, I don't
care to live," she said to herself, as she approached the great black
noisy engine.
When it was about three hundred feet away from her, she saw a head
thrust out of the little window by the locomotive, and then, with a
great puffing, snorting, and whistling, it began to move slower and
slower, until at last, when it was almost upon Polly, it stopped
entirely.
All the windows were alive with heads and hands. The passengers screamed
and waved her off the track. She stepped off and ran close up to the
side of the engine and gasped out, "The bridge is open, and the man has
fallen into the river. Please stop the train or you'll be drowned."
The engineer stared in amazement, as well he might, to see a small girl
with a flushed face, hair blown wildly about, and four lilies pinned in
her belt, waving the red flag as though she had been used to flagging
trains all her life.
At that moment another remarkable figure presented itself to the
astonished eyes of the passengers. A man, dripping wet, bruised and
scratched as though he had been drawn through briers, came tearing
toward the cars, stumbling and almost falling at every step. As he
reached little Polly, he snatched her up and covered her face with
kisses.
"You little darling," he cried, "do you know what you've done? You've
saved the lives of more than a hundred people."
Polly, nervous and excited, began to cry. One after another the
passengers came hurrying out of the train and crowded around her,
praising and kissing her, until she was quite ashamed, and hid her head
upon the kind flagman's shoulder, whispering, "Please take me away and
find mamma and papa."
Almost the last to alight were Polly's parents. "Why, it's our Polly!"
they both exclaimed at once.
The draw was now being closed again, and the conductor cried, "All
aboard!" The passengers scrambled back to their seats again. Polly's
father took her into the car with him, and now she looked calmly at the
people as they gathered around, and answered politely all questions put
to her, but refused the rings, chains, bracelets, and watches that the
grateful passengers pressed her to accept as tokens of their gratitude
for saving their lives.
At last Polly grew tired of so much praise, and spoke out: "Really I
don't deserve your thanks, for I never once thought of any one but papa
and mamma. So keep your presents for your own little girls. Thank you
all the same."
Those that heard her laughed, seeing they could do nothing better for
her than to let her remain unnoticed for the short distance she had to
go.
When Polly was lifted out of the car, and stood upon the steps of the
station while her father looked after the luggage, the passengers threw
kisses and waved their handkerchiefs to her until they were out of
sight.
A few days afterward Polly was astonished at receiving a beautiful ivory
box containing an exquisitely enamelled medal, with these words engraved
on it:
"Presented to Polly Gardner, whose courage and presence of mind saved a
hundred lives."