"No, I have n't any," replied Polly sadly.
"But you have them up in the ward, don't you?"
"There's a little old rubber doll that somebody left because it had n't any squeak—that's all."
"For pity's sake!" exclaimed the little lady. "The idea!—not a single doll that can be called a doll! I never heard anything like it! What do yo play with? Or don't you play at all?"
"Oh, yes!" laughed Polly. "We play games, and Dr. Dudley has given me two story-books, and there are some toy soldiers—but they're 'most all broken now. Then there's a big book with pictures pasted in it—that's nice! There was Noah's Ark; but a little boy threw Noah and nearly all the animals out of the window, and before we found them the rain spoiled some of them, and the rest were lost."
"I declare, it's pitiful!" sorrowed the little lady.
"Oh, we have a nice time!" smiled Polly.
"I believe you'd find something to enjoy on a desert, without a soul within fifty miles!" laughed Mrs. Jocelyn.
"Guess I'd be lonesome!" chuckled Polly. "But I always thought the sand would be lovely to play in."
"There, I told you so! Oh, you'd have a good time! But, child, have n't you any doll of your own—at home, I mean?"