[POLLY GARDNER AND THE DRAW-BRIDGE.]
BY JULIA K. HILDRETH.
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."