Edgar Jepson

Pollyooly. A romance of long felt wants and the red haired girl who filled them Edgar Jepson

"Yes; your red hair is against the best British traditions, but not against the Italian. I must assure you that in spite of your red hair you are, to the cultivated eye, the authentic angel child," said the Honorable John Ruffin firmly. "Surely your neighbors have pointed this out to you?" For the first time the respectful seriousness of Pollyooly's face was broken by a frown; and her eyes flashed. "The big boys call me 'Ginger, ' sir," she said. "The big boy is an insensate creature," said the Honorable John Ruffin with the sententious assurance of an expert anthropologist. "And what do little boys call you?" "They don't call me anything. I've taught them not to," said Pollyooly with a sudden, unangelic truculence.