human
Polly, child, cried Mrs. Whitney, seizing her with loving arms and drawing her on the steps--
gpt
Oh! at last,
human
And convulsively she threw her young arms around the kind neck.
gpt
Oh, Auntie! Dicky is hurt--but we don't know how much--his legs, Joel says, but it may not be as bad as we think; dear Auntie.
human
Polly dear, God is good. We will trust him.