ney 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.

"Is that all?" said the gentleman with a happy laugh. "I'm very glad."

"All!" Polly's heart stood still as she thought of Cherry, stark and
stiff in the bottom of his cage, if he didn't get it soon. "Now," said
the kind tones, briskly, "come, little girl, we'll make this all right
speedily. Let's see--here's a bird store. Now, then."

"But, sir--" began Polly, holding back.

Even Cherry had better die than to do anything her mother wouldn't like.
But the gentleman already had her in the shop, and was delighting the
heart of the shop-keeper by ordering him to do up a big package of all
kinds of seed. And then he added a cunning arrangement for birds to
swing in, and two or three other things that didn't have anything to do
with birds at all. And then they came out on the wet, slippery street
again.

"Now, then, little girl," said the gentleman, tucking the bundle under
his arm, and opening the umbrella; then he took hold of Polly's hand,
who by this time was glad of a protector. "Where do you live? For I'm
going to take you safely home this time where umbrellas can't run into
you."

"Oh!" said Polly, with a little skip. "Thank you sir! It's up to Mr.
King's; and--"

"What!" said the gentleman, stopping short in the midst of an immense
puddle, and staring at her, "Mr. Jasper King's?"

"I don't know sir," said Polly, "what his other name is. Yes it must be
Jasper; that's what Jappy's is, anyway," she added with a little laugh,
wishing very much that she could see Jappy at that identical moment.

"Jappy!" said the stranger, still standing as if petrified. "And are
there little Whitney children in the same house!"

"Oh, yes," said Polly, raising her clear, brown eyes up at him. The gas
lighter was just beginning his rounds, and the light from a neighboring
lamp flashed full on Polly's face as she spoke, showing just how clear
and brown the eyes were. "There's Percy, and Van, and little Dick--oh,
he's so cunning!" she cried, impulsively.

The gentleman's face looked very queer just then; but he merely said:

"Why, you must be Polly?"

"Yes, sir, I am," said Polly, pleased to think he knew her. And then she
told hi