She told the friendly druggist all about Granny and about Polly, too. Then she started for home.
She hurried along, holding Polly close, and as she hurried a little girl, in a bright red scarf and red mittens, with a sled at her heels, suddenly stood before her and caught Polly almost out of her arms.
‘It is my doll! It is my doll!’ the little girl was saying over and over again.
When Ailie heard those words, and knew that the little girl meant to take Polly away from her, if she could, would you believe it, Ailie didn’t care at all whether the dolly had once belonged to this strange little girl or not. She only knew that she wanted with all her heart to keep the dolly for her own, and that she simply could not bear it if she had to give her up.
So she held tight to Polly Perkins, as tight as ever she knew how, and the strange little girl pulled and tugged with all her might and main. And while they were struggling, with their faces very red and their lips shut very tight, along the street came two ladies and another little girl.
They stopped, at least the little girl did, and in a moment the little girl began to jump up and down, her brown hair flying, and to call out in a shrill little voice,
‘It is Polly! It is my Polly Perkins! Mother! Grandmother! It is my Polly Perkins!’
And then the third little girl caught hold of Polly and began to pull too.
CHAPTER VII
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.