Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-03-24
Dark Days.

London, on the very hottest of July
days, is not, perhaps, the place of all 9th
crs where one would choose to live, al
ways supposing that the power of choice
were left us. We should find the glare
on the pavements.and on the white houses,
the close, oppressive atmosphere, the
brown and withered grass in the squares,
perfectly insupportable after a very few
days, ar d we chould fly to Cowes or Ryde,
to Norway or New York, for change and
refreshment.
But if, like Polly Marker and ''the
boys" we were moneyless, homeless,
friendless, outside the great Babylon, we
should probably spend the July days as
she did, and revel, as the boys used to
do, in the "jolly heat"
Polly was the eldest of the family by
four years, and, if you care to look at her,
as she stands clinging to the ratings of
the Square gardens, think you will
agree with me that there is something in
her face that makes you wish to look
again. Straight soft hair laid smoothly
on each side OF a narrow head, surmount-
ed by sun-bonnet; a wide, sad mouth
and humorous eyes that belle, by their
sudden twinkling chances, the story of
the face. The eyes are family feature,
moreover, only Dicks are larger, and the
lashes that shade them are more indisput
ably Irish, and are Polly's pride. Dick
is standing, with his hands in his pockets,
leaning against lamp-post whistling,
while the baby lies lazily at his feet,
sucking the brushes out of his shoe black
box-for the whole family are waiting
for job.
Suddenly Polly, who has been gazing
intently and wistfully at geraniums in the
Square, and making believe she is a lady
and this is her own garden, drops her
bands hastily from the ratings and re-
treats backward toward the boys and the
Square gardener shakes his fist at her
from the inside. ''And if you could give
me few flowers from the evening, Stand
ly," she says, in loud clear voice-for
she is still " making believe" that this is
her own gardener-"I shall be much
obliged
ooh, say Polly says Dick, remon-
straitingly, as the baby sets up howl of
anguish, you're just treading on him,
you know, and you should just look
where you're going, you know"
Polly's dream thus rudely disturbed,
she becomes prosaic ms family; picks up
the box she has upset, gives the baby an
admonitory slap, and thumps him down
on the pavement some two yards further
off, where he cries privately, in silly,
whimpering way, for some minutes, and
then begins laborious progress toward
the backing box again.
Suddenly out OF Green Street, over
which the afternoon shadows were folding
down, horse came picking it's way dain-
thy into quiet, sunny Grosvenor Square,
THE horse was wicked looking chestnut
and it came up the centre of the road,
tossing its pretty head, and stepping high
with its four white stockinged feet. The
whole family rose with one accord, and
Polly pointed out the beautiful creature
for baby's admiration, but Dick had
caught sight of the rider, and was stand
ing motionless. The rider was lady
young enough in reality, but old to Dick,
to whom twenty-one lay in such very
dim future. She sat her horse we'll and
lightly, looking straight between the
delicate, sensitive ears. She had golden
brown hair that the sun|caught and gilded
into a glory, and she had brown eyes
that lighted upon the children presently,
as they stood watching her. Her groom
had inst turned the corner as she
beckoned to Dick and handed him a
letter.
"Will you drop that into the letter-box
for me?" she said, s'and here is sixpence."
Dick took the letter, touching his rag
ged curls to the sweet eyes and shining
face; then he closed his hand on the mon
ey, and darted across the road to drop the
letter into the box.
The lady turned and called out,
"Thank you,' as she passed him, canter-
ing out of the Square, and smiled again,
leaving Dick gazing after her entranced.
"What beautiful lady," he said, go
ing back to Polly's side, with sigh.
YES, very pretty said Polly; ':and,
my what horse''
"She had such low voicem said Dick.
eyes, precious low" said Polly; II
couldn't hear word she said MY? how
could she come a-walking into the Square
like that? wouldn't have been a-cant-
ering, justp'
hadn't we better go home?" ventured
Dick, presently; 'there's no use standing
here all day."
Chow much did she give you?" said
practical Polly stretching out her hand to !
touch the one that covered the sixpencee
"sixpence," said Dick opening his fin
gers; but there was mistake some
where, for in the middle of his hot littl-
palm lay shining sovereign, and all the
glory Of the sinking sun seemed to flicker
in little shafts of light on tue piece of
gold.
''shut your hand tigAt," said Polly,
breathless whisper -"tAe gardener, you
know--and We'll 60 home.'
''3ut mayn't we spend the sixpence?"
said Dick, aggrieved, while his lips quiz
red-"just for dinner, Polly?"
''Of course" said Polly, sharply; "well
change it and have dinner, and keep the
change; only don't cry, Dickie, and if
you'll take baby, III carry the box"
They sauntered along, in little pro-
session of three, all down Green Street
and into dirtier, drearier, part of the
town-oived down side streets and alleys
to little dinner shop that Polly knew,
where the procession stopped.
+ kO1T1u0 cliooo IF hrooI o,,d 49, 49,. =.