“Oh, dear,” she said to herself, as a sudden gust of wind blew around the corner, and warned her to move on, “now what shall I do! Well, I must hurry. Nothing for it but to run now!”
And secretly glad at the chance for a good hearty run along the hard pavements, a thing she had been longing to do ever since she came to the city, Polly gathered her bundle of seed up under her arm, and set out for a jolly race. She was enjoying it hugely, when—a sudden turn of the corner brought her up against a gentleman, who, having his umbrella down to protect his face, hadn't seen her till it was too late.
Polly never could tell how it was done; but the first thing she knew she was being helped up from the wet, slippery pavement by a kind hand; and a gentleman's voice said in the deepest concern:
“I beg your pardon; it was extremely careless in me.”
“It's no matter,” said Polly, hopping up with a little laugh, and straightening her hat. “Only—” and she began to look for her parcel that had been sent spinning.
“What is it?” said the gentleman, bending down and beginning to explore, too, in the darkness.
“My bundle,” began Polly. “Oh, dear!”
No need to ask for it now! There lay the paper wet and torn, down at their feet. The seed lay all over the pavement, scattered far and wide even out to the puddles in the street. And not a cent of money to get any more with! The rain that was falling around them as they stood there sent with the sound of every drop such a flood of misery into Polly's heart!
“What was it, child?” asked the gentleman, peering sharply to find out what the little shiny things were.
“Bird-seed,” gasped Polly.