Mrs. Shaw was a nervous, fussy invalid, who wanted something
every five minutes; so Polly found plenty of small things to do for
her and did, them so cheerfully, that the poor lady loved to have
the quiet, helpful child near, to wait upon her, read to her, run
errands, or hand the seven different shawls which were continually
being put on or off.
Grandma, too, was glad to find willing hands and feet to serve her;
and Polly passed many happy hours in the quaint rooms, learning
all sorts of pretty arts, and listening to pleasant chat, never
dreaming how much sunshine she brought to the solitary old lady.
Tom was Polly's rock ahead for a long time, because he was
always breaking out in a new place, and one never knew where to
find him. He tormented yet amused her; was kind one day, and a
bear the next; at times she fancied he was never going to be bad
again, and the next thing she knew he was deep in mischief, and
hooted at the idea of repentance and reformation. Polly gave him
up as a hard case; but was so in the habit of helping any one who
seemed in trouble, that she was good to him simply because she
could n't help it.
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