Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-10-20
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Change for Polly.

- Shdn90 TOT FolIJ.
Polly! Polly!" cried the master.
Polly! Polly!" called the dame
stop, Polly, and mend my frock!'
shouted one little Steele.
Polly, I want bread-and- butter
whined another; and the dark gir
with the pathetic eyes, and the slight
bony igure, which had never found
leisure to accumulate fiesh-the pa
tient slave Of the riotous, disorderly
Steele household-few upstairs, down.
stairs, and through my lady's cham
ber, striving with one pair of tired
feet and two slim hands to answer a
dozen calls at once, and do the work
of cook, waitress and nurserymaid all
in one.
They were a careless, ungrateful LOT
these Steeles. For long, weary years
Polly, the nameless, had been their
drudge-yea, ever since that night
when Dick Vandine introduced her, q
newly discharged hospital patient, in
to the doctors nursery. In this time
Granny Scrag's BLACK imp" had
grown from a bony, stunted child, to q
thin, brown, overworked woman.
|. She had an ugly scar on her fore
head, the mark Of the old accident
the unlucky pursuit Of Nan. which had
nearly cost her life. A pair Of great
sad, deer-like eyes and some thick
lustrous braids of black hair were her
sole beauty.
At eighteen or thereabouts-nobo
knew her exact age--Polly was not al
together deficient in knowledge. Late
and early she toiled for the Steele chill
dren, but she had also found time to
learn their lessons with them, to read
their books, and on Sundays she al
ways sat with the brood grouped
around her in the family pew at church
Dick Vandine, whose interest in the
friendless street. -waif had not abated
with time, often brought her volumes
of Shakespeare's plays, standard nov
els, the poets of all countries, and some
good histories.
ITO read these Alright Is an educa-
ton in ITSELF" he once said to her
you are too bright to grow up q
Ounce, under any circumstances, Pol
ly."
And Polly had read them Alright In
the still watches of the night, when
the noisy household slept, and when
her own tired-body should haye-beer
resting also. In many ways she had
made herself invaluable to her mas
ters; but upon the subject Of wages
they remained as dumb as the dead
She was an unpaid drudge. Not a cent
had she ever received for all her toll
no recompense, in fact, save board
and clothes" and these she found in
different, both in quality and quanti-
ty. AS she grew older her unrequited
labor distressed her more and more
She ventured to speak Of 1t to Van
dine.
1T has long been my dream, as you
know" she faltered, Ito save money
and go, by-and-by, and search for
Nan. But If I receive no wages, how
can this be done? I shall never find
my darling-never see her again."
What" cried DR.. Dick; haven't
you forgotten Nan yet?"
Her thin face, which might have
been handsome, had it possessed flesh
or color, kindled with fervid light.
Forgotten! No, oh. no!-that can
never be. While live, in youth or In
old age, l shall remember Mani shall
love her till the last day of my life."
you faithful Polly!" cried Vandine
by Jove, l wonder If Nan remembers
you, and If she has grown up hall
worthy Of your devotion. Probably
not"
It was a dismal, rainy day. Smoke
and fog enveloped the city and filled
the shabby, narrow street where the
Steeles lived. The afternoon was wan
ing, and Polly, with the younger chill
dern, sat in the nursery, mending a
great pile of frayed and torn house
hold linen. Rob and Joe, the terrors
of the house, lay on the floor at her
feet, kicking holes in the already d.
lapidated carpet.
Two or three little girls hung over
the back of her rocking chair, stealth
lily sticking pins in Polly's elbows
while they pretended to listen to little
May Steele, the only gentle one of the
gang, as the child, perched on a stool
beside Polly, strove to read aloud the