She blew a kiss to the released and delighted thrushes, and stood
upright, looking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of
grass and twig sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her faded,
washed cotton frock.

"Now, what are you up to, you scamps?--can't you let a body be?"

"Oh, Polly!"

Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel walk at the other side
of the wire fence. They were hot and panting, and both destitute of
hats.

"Polly, you're wanted at the house. Helen says so; there's a b-b-baby
come. Polly Perkins--Poll Parrot, you'd better come home at once,
there's a new b-b-baby just come!"

"A _what_?" said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, cleared the fence, and
kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, panting little brothers,
flung a hot, detaining arm round each.

"A baby! it isn't true, Bunny? it isn't true, Bob? A real live baby? Not
a doll! a baby that will scream and wriggle up its face! But it can't
be. Oh, heavenly! oh, delicious! But it can't be true, it can't! You're
always making up stories, Bunny!"

"Not this time," said Bunny. "You tell her, Bob--she'll believe you. I
heard it yelling--oh, didn't it yell, just! And Helen came, and said to
send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don't know what about, and she said