This must be the city and the end of Polly’s journeying.
Polly herself, after a long, long wait, was tossed into an automobile on top of many other packages, most of them much larger than she, and presently, amid a great tooting of horns, they were off.
Polly knew it was raining, raining hard, for she could hear the steady patter of the raindrops on the automobile roof and the splash of the wheels through the puddles in the street.
Up and down, in and out the city streets they rattled. Over the noisy paving-stones they rolled with many a bump and jolt. Round the corners they whirled with a dash.
The ride seemed long to Polly.
‘Where does Patty live? Will I never reach home?’ wondered Polly.
Faster and faster rolled the automobile, harder and harder pelted the rain.
Then Polly felt the packages under her slipping. Round a corner they went on two wheels, and out into the street flew Polly in her box to land in a great puddle with a splash!
On whirled the express wagon out of sight, and there lay Polly in the street wondering what in the world would happen to her next.