POLLY.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2389, 2 January 1909, Page 9 (Supplement)

POLLY.

* _", ' ■-/- —— * -;; ji: (By AY. Werner/in the New Orleans „ “Tiiiies-Democrat.”) i Polly, the Green Parrot, was one ol Miss Trent’s household gods. He had been given to her by ah old sea captain from New Zealand. Polly was a wonderful talker. - Miss Trent liked to have the bird, with'her .in of a morning. He entertained her while she sketched by his spirited remarks on anything that struck him as interesting. Duucan Wood was to. Polly, too. Duncan" and Aliss Trent, were painting together a picture of Joan of Arc. It was a long task, but Duncan wished it endless; . Nobody could guess what Miss Trent felt about- the matter.

Some question arose- regarding some business matters belonging to Miss Trout, and she was called out of town for a few days. During her absence Duncan worked upon the portions of tlio picture which had fallen to his share. He painted the eyes of Joan, but not as Lepage bad painted them in Iris famous picture of the Maid; rather he made a special study of eyes. When, after two days’ constant work, they wore finished, he saw, with a conscious thrill of joy, that they were the sloe black, beautiful eyes of Miss Trent herself. On the morning of Miss Trent’s return the maid whose duty it was to put the reception room off the studio in order "was busy there.' She hated Polly thoroughly. Now and again as. she moved about she stole a glance at herself in the large mirror. ‘ ‘Pretty ! Oh, my, liow pretty !’.’ simpered Polly from his cage. The maid shook her duster at the bird angrily.

“I’d like to wring your neck! Sure and it’s no lit company ye are for ladies, at all,” whispered the maid, * lapsing into her mother tongue. “Pretty! Pretty! Oh, my, I’m in love!” giggled the bird. The portieres which separated - the reception room from the studio were parted rather abruptly, and Miss Trent came into apartment. She had been looking at Duncan’s work on Joan. There was a smouldering fire ill her deep eyes, and her lips were compressed in a straight, hard line. .

“Do not admit anyone this morning, Maggie,” she said -to the maid. “I am too tired to do any painting; I will sit here for a while.”

Polly had subsided, and seemed to be taking a nap.

After the maid left the room Miss Trent moved -about restlessly, adjusting a. piece of bric-a-brac here and there. After a while she paused before the big mirror and regarded her-* self critically. She was .handsome, tall, ’and well-formed, with the darkcoloring and soft, black eyes of hei

Creole mother. She stood gazing ai image for *a few seconds. Suddeii Iv a great- surge of color swept her / ace and . neck. She threw up out hand and smote herself in the hieast “Oh! How I hate you! Yot black, ugly thing !”"slie cried fiercely to her reflection in the mirror. “L you were- small and fair”—her voice broke in dry, harsh sobs—“a littk golden-haired, blue-eyed thing, h< would love you ! He likes fair women . -He told you -so himself ! If Aor had no heart to love him Tie would love vou. Oh,, you poor, black thing I do”pity you! Once I thought yoi were beautiful. I must have beei mad! lam mad to lovo him ! Dun can! Duncan! Duncan! Yet li> painted my eyes for Joan! He did He did! It is a shame to my won} anhood to love unloved ! I hate sue. lovo! I would strike it out of nj; heart—so!” - _ . jr; She lifted her right hand an struck furiously at. tlio image in tB mirror, shattering the glass, into ai oiiis. ..Then the color drifted out c her cheeks.* 5 “Oh, my! Oh, my!” said a shnl shocked voice. ■ Miss Trent looked down at he hand. It was bleeding. She turne •about and walked quietly from tb room. In her own apartment si summoned her maid. _ f “Maggie,” she said, “a . niirroi -i the' reception room is broken. 1 ieaa tell the housekeeper to* have L- iplaced at once. And Maggie, ! wat you to look at my hand. I have lilt it with the glass.” - In tactful silence the maid sporfyd the hand, removed a bit of glass lim the firm, white flesh, applied ditf. ment, .arid bandaged the wouried rn otn I ml*

' "Down in tlio reception room-.all traces of the mental storm had hen removed and a very tamo and Imdy •- parrot reigned supreme. f . ‘‘Does Polly want dinner?” aicd the housekeeper, passing room at. midday. .. N . C • “Get out!” said the crosfp. “Pm in love!” The housekeejsr -laughed as she went her way. | Miss Trent, suffering,.both mentay and physically, did not feel equal o receiving the few of her fellow aitirs • who called that day. “Tell them that I ain ill, Maggie' she said to her maid. Polly, down;in the-reception rooi,; ■felt indisposed too., He eyed the ca. ers sharply as they came - and wen, putting now and then, a sharp answv to their questions. "When Dunea. V; V>• Wood came into the, familiar lift, rooin hie tapped his favorite gaily f,- ' the breast. . > ■ . r ' ‘‘Well, Polly, liow goes it to-day•? lie askeid. :. , . ; •*-

“i’ln in love,” said 1 , the bird, sullenly. Duncan taughed.;..'. ; “Miss. Trent is - ill, sir,”, said the maid . - - The/ laughter went out on Duncan’s eyes at dice. “Not able to work ?-”, lie asked, tapping the bird’s cage with nervous fingers. ’ ' ■ -" ■ ' V- -

“Not able, sir,” replied the wo-

man.'-' . ..... ~ ; “She’s in love,” volunteered Polly cheerfully. Duncan* was disappointed. “Don’t!” lie caid crossly, to the' parrot. ' . . “Duncan! Duncan!” called the bird softly. Duncan took the cage and strode into the studio, where ho fell to painting vigorously. Duncan Wood was deeply in love with Miss Trent. They had been stuAants togct)ior in Paris. He liad spent all ho had on his education. Some time it might return to him. Ho meant that it should, but it would bo slow work. It scorned to him that he had always loved Miss Trent, though he had nothing but love to offer her. Ho was proud. The best in the world was not good enough for Miss Trent, ho knew; and Duncan Wood was not the best. ITo had no nicans, and he was at the bottom of tlio ladder of art. When the best came in sight, he would take hiinsolf-

out of the way; and meanwhile she should never know his heart. That was how ho looked at the matter.As he worked away with firm, steady strokes, tlio parrot'was talking busily. By and by the shrill voice penetrated Duncan’s thoughts. “I hato you! Hate you! _ Hateyou! You ugly black tbuig !” the bird was saying, bitterly. Duncan turned about- sharply and stared at the parrot, which, .perched beforo a mirror, was gazing fixedly iat his reflection . “Come away, Polly; how" did. you get out of ytrnr cage P” he said gruffly. ‘‘Don’t be silly.” “I lmte you,” cried Polly, “if you were small, fair, sweet !" No heart to love him ! Love him ! Love him ! He’d love you ! Duncan ! Duncan ! Duncan!” * . Duncan looked like one carved from stone. His face looked gray in the sunlit room. Polly sobbed stormily on. “Shame! you ! You poor black thing!” / Duncan, darted up and caught the I bird. “Polly!” he said, huskily. “My heavens, Polly!” But Polly’s memory failed him, and he had gone back to a state of semidumbness again. “I’m in love,” he said, drearily. Duncan thrust him into the cage and rang the bell hastily. “Ask Miss Trent if she will see me, if onlj* for a moment. Say that it is quite imperative that I should see her,” he said to the maid. Then he paced the room and waited. ~ “Thank God! Thank God!” he said,, fervently. “I thought I was too unworthy a person, too poor and commonplace, to love her. And she loves me. Loves me! My queen! God bless you, Polly! You can not stay here; you will tell the servants what I say.” “My queen! My queen!” chanted Polly in a very flat voice. Duncan seized the cage and swung it on a hook out of the window. “Hang the bird!” he said, laughing nervously. Then he fell to painting again., dashing in colors with a reckless haste. Presently Miss Trent came into the room, calm and lovely. She had made up her mind that Duncan should never know of her love for him. “You wanted to see me?” she began, bravely, smiling up at him. Duncan stood still, looking straight at her.. She turned her eyes to the picture of Joan. Duncan drew nearer to her, keeping his eyes fixed upon her. The deep, dark eyes came round to his slowly. Miss Trent lifted her hand and deliberately covered them. Duncan almost laughed with delight at her effort to hide what he was longing to read. Ho dropped his hand upon her hair and drew her lovely face to his. “I wanted you,” lie said, boldly. “I'love you. Oli, I love you to . the deepest depth of my being. Did you know that? Take away your hand!” But the hand remained over tlio dark eyes. Duncan dropped his face and pressed his lips to hers. “My love!” he whispered joyfully. She drew back from him, covering her face with'her hand again and trembling. “Oh, no! No, No!” slid said, breathlessly. “It is not true!” “It is as true as life!” he said, gathering her in his arms. “Why is this?” lie asked, touching the bandage gently. “A mirror was broken in the-recep-tion room,” -she said hastily. “It is nothing.” , Then the whole truth came to Duncan with a rush of intuition and stirred him to his soul. “Katherine,” Tie said, pressing his lips against her hair. “I love fair women. My mother was a fair woman.” She hid her face -against his breast. “Oh! I have suffered a great deal,” slie said brokenly.; ;. “Poor little hand,” said Duncan tenderly. “'Poor little, suffering hand!” w- . Y “I’m in love,” called a faiht/doleftil voice from without. ; " “That, is Polly,” said Duncan, laughing. -“He shows a remarkable intelligence- —for a; bird.” ’ ’ :