s,
and the sedate old family cat, her mother, and her mother's numerous
poor relations who lived in the stables, she was by no means unhappy.
And the doll's expression was as complacent as ever, though she had
worn one gown an astonishing length of time. But if you could have
seen the care the little tree received! It was carefully wrapped in
the same little cloak Polly put round it the night they left home, and
only on the warmest days it was taken on deck to have the sunshine;
and every day it had part of Polly's small allowance of water; and
when the kitten had had its share, there would often be very little
left.

The weary days went slowly by. The ship was slow at the best, and the
winds were contrary. The provisions grew less and less, and the water
was almost exhausted. Two people--a man, and a child Polly had grown
very fond of--died, and were buried in the sea. The sky was cold and
gray, and it snowed and rained, and every one looked sad and
disheartened. It was terribly desolate. Polly could not often go on
deck, for the frozen spray and rain made it very slippery and
dangerous there; and her mother told story after story, and did her
best to shorten the longest December days she had ever known. And soon
there came a terrible bereavement. One night there was a great storm,
and the dearly-beloved kitten, frightened to death by the things
rolling about, and the pitching of the ship, broke the cord and rushed
out in the darkness, and never was seen any more. I think a little cat
has never been so mourned since the world began. That night, the Dutch
flower-pot, with its leafless twig, went rolling about the cabin
floor, and half the earth was scattered in the folds of its
wrappings, and carefully replaced next morning.

But at last the voyage was ended; they saw land, and finally came
close to it and went ashore, Polly with her dear doll and something
else rolled up in a little gray cloak. The ship was to stay until
spring; and there seemed no hope of getting back to England until
then. It was hard to decide what to do; but at last Colonel Brenton
heard of some men whom he had known, who had been made prisoners in
some of the battles in the north of England and sent to the
Massachusetts colony by Cromwell, who had feared to imprison them.
They had been sent to the settlement in York.

So the Brentons joined a party going there, or to places beyond. It
was the last of January that they came to York, and were wa