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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller for Tina
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Author of “Miss Billy,” “Miss Billy's Decision,” “Cross Currents,” “The
+Turn of the Tides,” etc.
+
+
+
+
+               TO
+               My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER
+     I.     MISS POLLY
+     II.    OLD TOM AND NANCY
+     III.   THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+     IV.    THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+     V.     THE GAME
+     VI.    A QUESTION OF DUTY
+     VII.   POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+     VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+     IX.    WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+     X.     A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+     XI.    INTRODUCING JIMMY
+     XII.   BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+     XIII.  IN PENDLETON WOODS
+     XIV.   JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+     XV.    DR. CHILTON
+     XVI.   A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+     XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+      XVIII. PRISMS
+     XIX.   WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+     XX.    WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+     XXI.   A QUESTION ANSWERED
+     XXII.  SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+     XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+     XXIV.  JOHN PENDLETON
+     XXV.   A WAITING GAME
+     XXVI.  A DOOR AJAR
+     XXVII. TWO VISITS
+     XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+     XXIX.  THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+     XXX.   JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+     XXXI.  A NEW UNCLE
+     XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she
+specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was
+hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew
+that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+the pitcher in her hand.
+
+“Nancy,”--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--“when I'm talking to
+you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say.”
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the
+cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not add
+to her composure.
+
+“Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,” she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. “I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you
+specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.”
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+“That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+attention.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+she could please this woman. Nancy had never “worked out” before; but
+a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children
+besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward
+their support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in
+the kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from “The
+Corners,” six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as
+the mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest
+residents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly
+now as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to
+the floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even when
+knives and doors were still.
+
+“When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,” Miss Polly was saying
+now, “you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+after you clear out the trunks and boxes.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?”
+
+“In the front attic.” Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: “I suppose I
+may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is
+coming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that
+room.”
+
+“A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!”
+ cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in the
+home at “The Corners.”
+
+“Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,” rejoined Miss
+Polly, stiffly. “However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I
+am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.”
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+“Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you,” she faltered.
+
+“Thank you,” rejoined the lady, dryly. “I can't say, however, that I see
+any immediate need for that.”
+
+“But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child,” ventured
+Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+“Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that
+was already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly
+WANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope
+I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,” she finished
+sharply, as she left the room.
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now so
+cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+
+“Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,
+he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre
+salary.
+
+“I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child
+and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to
+you.
+
+“The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+“Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+
+“Respectfully yours,
+
+“Jeremiah O. White.”
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would
+take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for
+that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time
+when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man
+of wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him to
+the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had married
+the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had
+had little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie
+herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby “Pollyanna”
+ for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. This
+had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there
+had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little
+note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of
+the house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were people
+who had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have
+some friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed
+either their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She
+liked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,
+of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew
+her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.
+But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than
+it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+“I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!” she
+muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+pointed cleaning-stick. “There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
+house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!”
+ snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
+strain; “I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
+just now!”
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+“Well, it's done--my part, anyhow,” she sighed. “There ain't no dirt
+here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
+this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!” she finished, going
+out and closing the door with a bang, “Oh!” she ejaculated, biting
+her lip. Then, doggedly: “Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
+bang,--I do, I do!”
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
+about the place for uncounted years.
+
+“Mr. Tom,” began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
+make sure she was unobserved; “did you know a little girl was comin'
+here ter live with Miss Polly?”
+
+“A--what?” demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+“A little girl--to live with Miss Polly.”
+
+“Go on with yer jokin',” scoffed unbelieving Tom. “Why don't ye tell me
+the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?”
+
+“But it's true. She told me so herself,” maintained Nancy. “It's her
+niece; and she's eleven years old.”
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+“Sho!--I wonder, now,” he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+faded eyes. “It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
+wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+a-seein' this!”
+
+“Who was Miss Jennie?”
+
+“She was an angel straight out of Heaven,” breathed the man, fervently;
+“but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
+was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
+babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one
+what's a-comin'.”
+
+“She's eleven years old.”
+
+“Yes, she might be,” nodded the old man.
+
+“And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!” scolded
+Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind
+her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+“I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,” he
+said.
+
+“Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in
+the house!” snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+“I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,” he grinned.
+
+“As if ever anybody could be fond of her!” scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+“I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,” he said
+slowly.
+
+“Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither.”
+
+“Oh, yes they did,” nodded the old man. “And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.” The old man drew
+himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was
+the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved
+for long years.
+
+“But it don't seem possible--her and a lover,” still maintained Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,” he argued. “She used ter be real
+handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.”
+
+“Handsome! Miss Polly!”
+
+“Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with
+posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things--you'd
+see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.”
+
+“Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of
+it--she has, she has!” sniffed Nancy.
+
+“Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her lover,”
+ nodded Old Tom; “and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood an'
+thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal with.”
+
+“I should say she was,” declared Nancy, indignantly. “There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't
+for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some
+day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be
+good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will.”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child; 'tain't
+best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.” And again he bent his old head
+to the work before him.
+
+“Nancy!” called a sharp voice.
+
+“Y-yes, ma'am,” stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs,
+a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were
+no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All
+day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room
+was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not
+been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+down, up and down, trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+the room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, “I found a
+fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised
+at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall
+expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive
+to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station.
+Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says
+'light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I
+know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am; but--you--”
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+crisply:
+
+“No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+all.” And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of
+her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+“'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she knows,
+indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would--and
+her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!”
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
+Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
+friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
+usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
+station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it “light hair, red-checked
+dress, straw hat.” Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
+of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+“I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+bang doors,” she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+
+“Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,”
+ grinned Timothy. “Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+the whistle now!”
+
+“Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me,” chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
+she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
+red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
+the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
+her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
+standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+
+“Are you Miss--Pollyanna?” she faltered. The next moment she found
+herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,” cried an eager voice in her
+ear. “Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
+hoped you would.”
+
+“You--you did?” stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
+possibly have known her--and wanted her. “You--you did?” she repeated,
+trying to straighten her hat.
+
+“Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
+like,” cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
+embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. “And now I know, and
+I'm glad you look just like you do look.”
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+had been most confusing.
+
+“This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,” she stammered.
+
+“Yes, I have,” nodded Pollyanna, importantly. “I've got a brand-new one.
+The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet
+a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as half an
+aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
+get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here
+'tis,” she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had
+to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
+Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During
+the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+
+“There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride,”
+ sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. “Of course, if 'tisn't
+far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the
+sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty;
+father told me--”
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+lifting of her head.
+
+“Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
+explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red gingham
+dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think 'twas
+queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn, you know--on
+both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to
+buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought
+to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+course, but not the black part.”
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+“Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right.”
+
+“I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,” nodded Pollyanna, again with
+that choking little breath. “Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
+harder to be glad in black--”
+
+“Glad!” gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+“Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us,
+you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to--to do
+it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him, so; and I couldn't
+help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have
+God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the Ladies' Aid.
+But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm
+so glad I've got you!”
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her
+turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+“Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,” she faltered. “I'm
+only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!”
+
+“You--you AREN'T?” stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+“No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We--we
+ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!”
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+flash from his eyes.
+
+“But who ARE you?” questioned Pollyanna. “You don't look a bit like a
+Ladies' Aider!”
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+“I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an'
+hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.”
+
+“But there IS an Aunt Polly?” demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+“You bet your life there is,” cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then.” There was a moment's silence, then she
+went on brightly: “And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't
+come to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+besides.”
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+“I call that a pretty slick compliment,” he said. “Why don't you thank
+the little lady?”
+
+“I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly,” faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+“I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me.
+He said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.”
+
+“She does. You can see it now,” said Nancy.
+
+“It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.”
+
+“Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+Polly rich, Nancy?”
+
+“Yes, Miss.”
+
+“I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some rich. They
+have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+ice-cream Sundays?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+Timothy's eyes.
+
+“No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never
+saw it on her table.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's
+did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got
+the carpets, though.”
+
+“Yes, she's got the carpets.”
+
+“In every room?”
+
+“Well, in almost every room,” answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” exulted Pollyanna. “I love carpets. We didn't have
+any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one
+of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly
+beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some
+lambs and a lion--not together, you know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is,
+I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?”
+
+“I--I don't know,” answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+“I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father
+sold it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad
+it fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you
+know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used
+to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?” she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+“Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!”
+
+“Leave! I should say not,” grinned the youth.
+
+“You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!”
+
+“Fun!--fun!” repeated Nancy, indignantly, “I guess it'll be somethin'
+more than fun for that blessed child--when them two tries ter live
+tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!” she
+vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up
+from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with “duty” written large
+on every coldly extended finger.
+
+“How do you do, Pollyanna? I--” She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that
+you let me come to live with you,” she was sobbing. “You don't know how
+perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've
+had just the Ladies' Aid!”
+
+“Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+acquaintance,” rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the
+small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the
+doorway. “Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough,
+please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you
+look like.”
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+“No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows.
+I told Nancy how father said--”
+
+“Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,” interrupted Miss
+Polly, crisply. “You had a trunk, I presume?”
+
+“Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own, I
+mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them
+lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she
+thought I ought to have those. You see, father--”
+
+“Pollyanna,” interrupted her aunt again, sharply, “there is one thing
+that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I
+do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me.”
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--” She hesitated, and her aunt filled
+the pause.
+
+“We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may follow
+me, Pollyanna.”
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+
+“After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+father,” Pollyanna was thinking. “It'll be easier, maybe--if I don't
+talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+about him.” And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's “kindness,”
+ blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of
+picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace
+curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,” breathed the little girl, rapturously;
+“what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be
+you're so rich!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached
+the head of the stairs. “I'm surprised at you--making a speech like that
+to me!”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?” queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+
+“Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,”
+ declared the lady; “certainly not, of RICHES!”
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway
+door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room.
+Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from
+herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness
+would not destroy valuable furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of
+vanity showing thus early--it was all the more fortunate that the room
+planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that
+no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+was waiting now her room--the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her
+aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At
+the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners
+where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were
+stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too.
+Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it seemed so hard to
+breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+
+“There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see.
+Have you your key?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+“When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+not merely with your head.”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you
+need here,” she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+pitcher. “I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+o'clock,” she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking
+after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare
+floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that
+had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away
+Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on
+her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+“There, there, you poor lamb,” she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+drawing the little girl into her arms. “I was just a-fearin! I'd find
+you like this, like this.”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked,” she sobbed. “I just can't
+make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+than I did.”
+
+“No more they did, neither,” declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+“Oh-h!--NANCY!” The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+“There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,” she cried briskly.
+“Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+your dresses in no time, no time.”
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+“There aren't very many there, anyway,” she faltered.
+
+“Then they're all the sooner unpacked,” declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+“That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?” she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+“Why, of--course,” she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses.
+Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in
+the closet, stacking the books on the table, and putting away the
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?”
+ she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in
+the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully
+at the bare wall above.
+
+“And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.”
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her
+hands joyously.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,” she breathed. “Look--'way off
+there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody
+need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me
+have this room!”
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+“Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?” she cried; then, fearfully: “This
+wasn't--YOUR room, was it?”
+
+“My room!” stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. “If you ain't
+a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt
+before--Oh, land! there's her bell!” After which amazing speech, Nancy
+sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the
+stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her “picture,” as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her
+eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about
+the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed.
+Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery--against this window a
+huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms
+outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+“I believe I can do it,” she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+ground was--even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little
+fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her
+strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a
+bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an
+open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree
+stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there
+seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in--the top of that
+big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things,
+and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran through the open
+field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the
+bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+appeared; “my niece is late. No, you need not call her,” she added
+severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. “I told her what
+time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She
+may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down
+she may have bread and milk in the kitchen.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+“Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just cried
+herself to sleep,” she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open
+the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. “Where are you?
+Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?” she panted, looking in the
+closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,” she wailed. “She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me
+told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel
+food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!”
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+“Gone? Heaven?” he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. “Well, Nancy, it do look like as
+if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,”
+ he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined
+against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on
+top of a huge rock.
+
+“Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my
+say,” declared Nancy, doggedly. “If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,” she flung back over her
+shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+“For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,”
+ panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+regretfully slid.
+
+“Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they
+found I always came back all right.”
+
+“But I didn't even know you'd went,” cried Nancy, tucking the little
+girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. “I didn't see
+you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+do, I do.”
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+“I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.”
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+“You did--what?”
+
+“Came down the tree, outside my window.”
+
+“My stars and stockings!” gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. “I'd like ter
+know what yer aunt would say ter that!”
+
+“Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,” promised
+the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+“Mercy!” gasped Nancy. “No--no!”
+
+“Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!” cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+
+“No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about
+knowin' what she'd say, truly,” stammered Nancy, determined to keep one
+scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. “But, say, we better hurry.
+I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.”
+
+“I'll help,” promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna
+took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+“I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause
+then you came after me,” she shivered.
+
+“Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll
+have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't
+like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.”
+
+“But I couldn't. I was up here.”
+
+“Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!” observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. “I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.”
+
+“Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.”
+
+“Glad! Why?”
+
+“Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see
+any trouble about being glad about that.”
+
+“You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',”
+ retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's
+brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.”
+
+“The--GAME?”
+
+“Yes; the 'just being glad' game.”
+
+“Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?”
+
+“Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,” rejoined
+Pollyanna. “We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it--some of them.”
+
+“What is it? I ain't much on games, though.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+“Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.”
+
+“CRUTCHES!”
+
+“Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but
+when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in,
+but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in
+handy for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.”
+
+“Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,” declared
+Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+“Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be
+glad about--no matter what 'twas,” rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. “And
+we began right then--on the crutches.”
+
+“Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about--gettin' a
+pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There is--there is,” she crowed. “But _I_ couldn't see it, either,
+Nancy, at first,” she added, with quick honesty. “Father had to tell it
+to me.”
+
+“Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,” almost snapped Nancy.
+
+“Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!” exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. “You see it's just as easy--when you know how!”
+
+“Well, of all the queer doin's!” breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna
+with almost fearful eyes.
+
+“Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely,” maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. “And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's almost too
+hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't anybody but
+a Ladies' Aid left.”
+
+“Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+house with nothin' in it,” growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“That was a hard one, at first,” she admitted, “specially when I was so
+kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and
+I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I
+hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely
+picture out the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be
+glad about. You see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort
+of forget the other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know.”
+
+“Humph!” choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+“Most generally it doesn't take so long,” sighed Pollyanna; “and lots of
+times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it
+so much,” she faltered. “I suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder
+now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+play it, though,” she added, as an after-thought.
+
+“My stars and stockings!--HER!” breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then,
+aloud, she said doggedly: “See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin' that
+I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway; but
+I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I just will, I will!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. “That'll be
+splendid! Won't we have fun?”
+
+“Er--maybe,” conceded Nancy, in open doubt. “But you mustn't count too
+much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin' ter
+make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+ter play it with, anyhow,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you
+into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.”
+
+“But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.”
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+“Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day,
+and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see
+what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be
+careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See
+that you are down to that. Good-night.”
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+“I've had such a beautiful time, so far,” she sighed happily. “I know
+I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before
+I came. Good-night,” she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+
+“Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. “What a most
+extraordinary child!” Then she frowned. “She's 'glad' I punished her,
+and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with
+me! Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her
+book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed
+into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+“I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit
+now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be
+glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
+If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it
+would be easier!”
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work,
+jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+
+“If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches
+when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o'
+refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after
+her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not
+see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and
+she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt
+was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she
+made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+alive!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect
+as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her
+neck. “Is this the usual way you say good morning?”
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+
+“No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from
+my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies'
+Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just
+had to come down and hug you!”
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+“Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+understand--about those rose-bushes,” she said stiffly. Then she turned
+and walked rapidly away.
+
+“Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?” asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as
+if with tears.
+
+“Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,” he answered. Timidly, but as if
+impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+it rest for a moment on her bright hair. “You are so like your mother,
+little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+You see, I used ter work in the garden--then.”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+“You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a little
+earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!” And
+down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's
+side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+the back door.
+
+“Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's,” she panted,
+pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+“and other times it means other meals. But it always means that
+you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye
+don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter
+be glad about in that!” she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house
+as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss
+Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies
+darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+“Nancy, where did those flies come from?”
+
+“I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.” Nancy had been
+too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+
+“I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,” observed Pollyanna,
+amiably. “There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+upstairs.”
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+“Yours!” gasped Miss Polly. “What do you mean? Where did they come
+from?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+windows. I SAW some of them come in.”
+
+“You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?”
+
+“Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.”
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was
+grave, but very red.
+
+“Nancy,” directed her mistress, sharply, “you may set the muffins down
+and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the
+doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every
+room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.”
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+“Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+forgotten YOUR duty.”
+
+“My--duty?” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+“Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I
+will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.”
+
+“To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!”
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+
+“Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,” she
+apologized timidly. “I won't raise the windows again.”
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out
+a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+
+“This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+things.”
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+magnified, cried joyously:
+
+“Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!” The next moment she skipped merrily from
+the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up
+the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why,
+I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet,
+and--”
+
+“That will do,” observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. “Pollyanna, you may
+bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.”
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned
+toward the closet.
+
+“I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did--and
+THEY said they were shameful,” she sighed. “But there were mostly things
+for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and--did you
+ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?”
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at
+once.
+
+“Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!” she hurried on, with a
+hot blush. “I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in this room, you
+know.”
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+hurrying on.
+
+“Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're going
+to--even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every time, too,
+that were hardest to play the game on, for father and--”
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+“They aren't nice, at all,” she choked, “and they'd been black if it
+hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've
+got.”
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I've got the best ones on,” confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. “The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to
+clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they
+won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says;
+but he's got money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the
+carpet--on account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad
+that if he did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?”
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+
+“You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home some,
+too.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr.
+Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
+Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each
+day.”
+
+“I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to
+read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+glad, either, for I like best to read to myself--on account of the big
+words, you know.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. “Have you studied
+music?”
+
+“Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+Polly. I'd rather, truly.”
+
+“Very likely,” observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+“Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Pollyanna sighed. “The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I
+had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle
+like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought
+backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other
+way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever,
+at all.”
+
+“Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+presume.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+“They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't
+got far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
+They were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made
+it alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to
+take turns at me one forenoon a week--in their own kitchens, you know.
+I'd only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had
+to stop.” Her voice broke.
+
+“Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!” scorned Miss Polly. “I think
+we can remedy that very soon.” She paused in thought for a minute, then
+went on slowly: “At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you
+will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I
+shall, of course, procure a teacher at once for you,” she finished
+decisively, as she arose from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all
+just to--to live.”
+
+“To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the
+time!”
+
+“Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing the things you want
+to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing hills,
+talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all about
+the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+“Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if
+I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and
+instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that
+care and instruction are not ungratefully wasted.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I LOVE
+YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!”
+
+“Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,” vouchsafed Miss
+Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+after her:
+
+“Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted
+to--to give away.”
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town
+at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my
+niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you
+if I should let you appear out in any one of them.”
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please,” she called wistfully, “isn't there ANY way you can
+be glad about all that--duty business?”
+
+“What?” Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with
+very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. “Don't be
+impertinent, Pollyanna!”
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+of duty.
+
+“I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,” she
+sighed. “I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be
+glad about in all that duty business.”
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
+on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
+began to put away the dresses.
+
+“There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,” she said
+aloud; “unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!” Whereupon she
+laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
+from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
+the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
+last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
+a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
+it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
+keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
+herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
+she expressed it to one of the clerks: “When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
+lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
+that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!”
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
+a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
+very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
+miles away at “The Corners,” where lived her own dear mother, and her
+equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
+Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+
+“And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,” sighed
+Nancy. “They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
+hate 'Nancy'!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?”
+
+“Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
+in 'em, then.”
+
+“But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,” declared Pollyanna.
+
+“Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,”
+ retorted Nancy, “and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+name's just grand!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow,” she chuckled, “you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'”
+
+“Hephzibah!”
+
+“Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just
+as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+like to be hurrahed at.”
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+“Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never
+hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My,
+I guess I AM glad--” She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the
+little girl. “Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that
+'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+“Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the
+times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots
+of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about,
+you know. And most generally there is something about everything that
+you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.”
+
+“Well, m-maybe,” granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet
+come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes
+Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise
+them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew
+out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way
+across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung
+a path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window.
+With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to
+the left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+silvery path, and on to the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to
+hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
+her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
+of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
+a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
+they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
+fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
+fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
+thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
+so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
+in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
+stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
+after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
+roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
+rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
+end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
+her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
+fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
+up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+“I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,” she murmured, blinking
+up at the stars; “else I couldn't have had this!”
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
+to Timothy:
+
+“Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis
+or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the
+east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here--but
+hurry, quick!”
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by
+a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes
+to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting
+through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean?” cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+“Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!” she stammered. “Don't look so scared! It
+isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so
+the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.”
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were gone; then she said
+sternly:
+
+“Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all
+the extraordinary children!” she ejaculated a little later, as, with
+Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into
+the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath
+of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long
+quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+“For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with
+me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my
+duty to keep you where I know where you are.”
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+“With you?--in your bed?” she cried rapturously. “Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt
+Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+didn't come! Wouldn't you be?”
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to
+tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna--and for the
+third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had
+at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied
+cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these
+things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time,
+also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she
+liked--provided she did not “like” to do certain things already
+prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to
+the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a relief to Aunt
+Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate “What an extraordinary
+child!” and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far
+away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's
+age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+“Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,” she explained to Nancy. “I'm happy
+just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the
+people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?”
+
+“Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em,” retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for “an errand
+to run,” so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or
+another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To
+herself Pollyanna always called him “the Man,” no matter if she met a
+dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two things
+that the “just men” never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather
+pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked
+erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna
+vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day
+spoke to him.
+
+“How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?” she called cheerily, as she
+approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+
+“Did you speak--to me?” he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+“Yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna. “I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+“'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,” she called
+out cheerfully.
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+the man stopped abruptly.
+
+“See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every
+day?”
+
+“I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your name yet.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on
+faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+smiling lips.
+
+“Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an introduction. I
+don't know HIS name, yet,” she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and
+a member of her church--it was the duty of all the church members
+to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow
+usually on Thursday afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy.
+To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given
+it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+“And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,” Nancy had declared in
+private afterwards to Pollyanna; “though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the
+job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!”
+
+“But I'd love to do it, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, you won't--after you've done it once,” predicted Nancy, sourly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a
+soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All
+is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.”
+
+“But, why, Nancy?”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened,
+has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't
+run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas
+Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted
+chicken--but if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for
+lamb broth!”
+
+“Why, what a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like
+to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and different. I love
+DIFFERENT folks.”
+
+“Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the sake
+of the rest of us!” Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at
+the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling,
+indeed, at the prospect of meeting this “different” Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+
+“How do you do?” began Pollyanna politely. “I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.”
+
+“Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,”
+ muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at
+the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+
+“How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.”
+
+“Dear me! Jelly?” murmured a fretful voice. “Of course I'm very much
+obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth to-day.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+“Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,”
+ she said.
+
+“What?” The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+“Why, nothing, much,” apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; “and of course
+it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+chicken--but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.”
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a most
+unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+
+“Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?” she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too! That
+would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's
+why I'm here with the jelly this morning.”
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on
+her pillow listlessly.
+
+“Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--” She
+stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. “I
+never slept a wink last night--not a wink!”
+
+“O dear, I wish _I_ didn't,” sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on the
+little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair. “You
+lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?”
+
+“Lose time--sleeping!” exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+“Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+can't live nights, too.”
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!” she cried. “Here! do you go
+to that window and pull up the curtain,” she directed. “I should like to
+know what you look like!”
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+“O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?” she sighed, as she
+went to the window; “--and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!” she broke off excitedly,
+as she turned back to the bed; “I'm so glad you wanted to see me,
+because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!”
+
+“Me!--pretty!” scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+“Why, yes. Didn't you know it?” cried Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, no, I didn't,” retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived
+forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy
+wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they
+were.
+
+“Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too,
+and curly,” cooed Pollyanna. “I love black curls. (That's one of the
+things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two
+little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I
+should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.”
+
+“The glass!” snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. “Yes,
+well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days--and you
+wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!”
+
+“Why, no, of course not,” agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. “But
+wait--just let me show you,” she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau
+and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+critical gaze.
+
+“I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+little before I let you see it,” she proposed. “May I fix your hair,
+please?”
+
+“Why, I--suppose so, if you want to,” permitted Mrs. Snow, grudgingly;
+“but 'twon't stay, you know.”
+
+“Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,” exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. “I sha'n't
+do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty
+you are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+lovely time with it,” she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or
+shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better
+pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly
+scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to
+tingle with a feeling perilously near to excitement.
+
+“There!” panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by
+and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect.
+“Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!” And she held out the mirror
+in triumph.
+
+“Humph!” grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. “I like
+red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+night, so what's the difference!”
+
+“But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,” laughed Pollyanna,
+“'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+hair fluffed out like that,” she finished with a satisfied gaze. “Don't
+you?”
+
+“Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the
+pillow as I do.”
+
+“Of course not--and I'm glad, too,” nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+“because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+like mine does.”
+
+“Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray too
+soon,” retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+mirror before her face.
+
+“Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,” sighed
+Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+“Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black
+hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day as I do!”
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+“Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?” she mused
+aloud.
+
+“Do what?”
+
+“Be glad about things.”
+
+“Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+should say it would,” retorted Mrs. Snow. “If you don't think so, just
+tell me something to be glad about; that's all!”
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come
+I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,” she
+called again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+
+“Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?” ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up
+the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+“That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,” she
+muttered under her breath. “I declare, I didn't know it could look so
+pretty. But then, what's the use?” she sighed, dropping the little glass
+into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+still lay among the bedclothes--thought it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+
+“Why, mother--the curtain is up!” cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare
+between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+
+“Well, what if it is?” snapped the sick woman. “I needn't stay in the
+dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?”
+
+“Why, n-no, of course not,” rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as
+she reached for the medicine bottle. “It's only--well, you know very
+well that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+wouldn't.”
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+“I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead of lamb
+broth, for a change!”
+
+“Why--mother!”
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer
+behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months
+had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+with a bright smile.
+
+“It isn't so nice to-day, is it?” she called blithesomely. “I'm glad it
+doesn't rain always, anyhow!”
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna
+decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore
+(which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She
+thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man
+was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the
+ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the
+glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a
+special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.
+
+“How do you do?” she chirped. “I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+you?”
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+“See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right
+now, once for all,” he began testily. “I've got something besides
+the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.”
+ Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+“No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.”
+
+“Yes; well--Eh? What?” he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding of
+her words.
+
+“I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you know--that
+the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you
+only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+thinking of it!”
+
+“Well, of all the--” ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.
+He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back,
+still frowning.
+
+“See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?”
+
+“I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still,
+I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.”
+
+“Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?” The
+man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still
+trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but that
+you're just as good, of course--maybe better,” she added in hurried
+politeness. “You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!”
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+“Well, of all the--” he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as
+before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight
+into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really
+pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+“Good afternoon,” he greeted her a little stiffly. “Perhaps I'd better
+say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.”
+
+“But you don't have to tell me,” nodded Pollyanna, brightly. “I KNEW you
+knew it just as soon as I saw you.”
+
+“Oh, you did, did you?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.”
+
+“Humph!” grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+first, though usually he said little but “good afternoon.” Even that,
+however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+one day when the greeting was given.
+
+“Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,” she gasped, “did that man SPEAK TO YOU?”
+
+“Why, yes, he always does--now,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?” demanded Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+“I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+introducing, but he didn't.”
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+“But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I guess,
+except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
+He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him--comes down ter the
+hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he
+wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time--only it'll be
+somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and
+I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally.
+We used to say how glad we were we liked beans--that is, we said it
+specially when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that
+was sixty cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?”
+
+“Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
+There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills,
+if he wanted to--and not know it.”
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+“As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+come to try to chew 'em!”
+
+“Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,” shrugged Nancy. “He ain't
+spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.”
+
+“Oh, for the heathen,” surmised Pollyanna. “How perfectly splendid!
+That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told
+me.”
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+something that prevented the words being spoken.
+
+“Humph!” she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on: “But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss
+Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great
+big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's
+crazy, and some jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his
+closet.”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” shuddered Pollyanna. “How can he keep such a dreadful
+thing? I should think he'd throw it away!”
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead
+of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+correcting the mistake.
+
+“And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,” she went on. “Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.”
+
+“Oh, a missionary,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+“Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+money here--leastways, not for jest livin'.”
+
+“Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen,” declared Pollyanna.
+“But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs. Snow,
+only he's a different different.”
+
+“Well, I guess he is--rather,” chuckled Nancy.
+
+“I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,” sighed Pollyanna
+contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as
+at first, in a darkened room.
+
+“It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,” announced Milly, in a
+tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+
+“Oh, it's you, is it?” asked a fretful voice from the bed. “I remember
+you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you
+had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.”
+
+“Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+to-day is, then,” laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room,
+and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. “My! but aren't you
+dark here, though? I can't see you a bit,” she cried, unhesitatingly
+crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. “I want to see if
+you've fixed your hair like I did--oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm
+glad you haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later.
+But now I want you to see what I've brought you.”
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+“Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,”
+ she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket. “Well, what is
+it?”
+
+“Guess! What do you want?” Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+“Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,” she sighed. “After all, they
+all taste alike!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?”
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+what she DID want seemed impossible--until she knew what she had.
+Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+waiting.
+
+“Well, of course, there's lamb broth--”
+
+“I've got it!” crowed Pollyanna.
+
+“But that's what I DIDN'T want,” sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+her stomach craved. “It was chicken I wanted.”
+
+“Oh, I've got that, too,” chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+“Both of them?” she demanded.
+
+“Yes--and calf's-foot jelly,” triumphed Pollyanna. “I was just bound you
+should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+course, there's only a little of each--but there's some of all of 'em!
+I'm so glad you did want chicken,” she went on contentedly, as she
+lifted the three little bowls from her basket. “You see, I got to
+thinking on the way here--what if you should say tripe, or onions,
+or something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a
+shame--when I'd tried so hard?” she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally to find
+something she had lost.
+
+“There! I'm to leave them all,” announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+three bowls in a row on the table. “Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?” she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+“Very poorly, thank you,” murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her
+usual listless attitude. “I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins
+next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly
+wild. She was at it all the morning--every minute! I'm sure, I don't
+know what I shall do!”
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies' Aiders,
+you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+have. Can you?”
+
+“Can I--what?”
+
+“Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position when the
+music gets too hard to stand.”
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+“Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed,” she rejoined a little
+irritably.
+
+“Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?” nodded
+Pollyanna. “Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says.
+She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it
+hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being deaf, so.”
+
+“Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and she came to visit
+'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they had
+such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White
+felt so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she
+DID hear it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if
+she was deaf and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You
+see, she was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.”
+
+“The--game?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what you can
+be glad about.”
+
+“GLAD about! What do you mean?”
+
+“Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though you did have to
+lie here abed all day.”
+
+“Oh!” scoffed the woman. “THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't
+suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I was,” nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; “and I found it, too.
+But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard.
+And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for
+a while. Then I got it.”
+
+“Did you, really? Well, what is it?” Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know,” she announced impressively.
+Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+“Well, really!” she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+voice.
+
+“And now I'll tell you the game,” proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. “It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so hard. And
+there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.” And
+she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll
+that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+“Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,” she said with dreary
+listlessness. “She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to make up before
+dark.”
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+“All right,” she sighed. “I'll hurry.” Suddenly she laughed. “I suppose
+I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?”
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+cheeks.
+
+“Good-by,” flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+“I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+next time!”
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy;
+but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I should have
+failed signally in my duty.”
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but
+one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+“Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they
+should be just happy days?” she asked wistfully.
+
+“That is what I mean, Pollyanna.”
+
+“They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?”
+
+“Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to show
+for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!”
+
+“Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?” questioned Pollyanna, a
+little anxiously.
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you
+won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Game? What game?”
+
+“Why, that father--” Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+“N-nothing,” she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,” she said tersely. And the
+sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room,
+met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!” she cried. “You were coming up
+to see me! Come right in. I love company,” she finished, scampering up
+the stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself,
+not in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little
+room sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs--so many, many times
+since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+“I love company,” said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+dispensing the hospitality of a palace; “specially since I've had this
+room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas
+a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are
+they? And of course I do own this one, don't I?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,” murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+“And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--” With a painful
+blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+
+“What's that, Pollyanna?”
+
+“N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.”
+
+“Probably not,” returned Miss Polly, coldly; “but you did say it, so
+suppose we have the rest of it.”
+
+“But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course--”
+
+“PLANNING on them!” interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+“I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,” she apologized. “It was
+only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh,
+we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and
+one had ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those
+two pictures; the one fath--I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+wanted them, so--pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+here, and--and--but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I
+mean, a few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there couldn't
+be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've been so
+good to me, that--”
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” she said stiffly.
+
+“You have said quite enough, I'm sure.” The next minute she had swept
+down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor did it
+suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a
+white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+
+“Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there
+for the present.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” said Nancy aloud.
+
+“O glory!” said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+“And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter
+sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are--you are!”
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+“You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?”
+
+“I guess you'll think it's really and truly,” prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+had taken from the closet. “I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.”
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at
+a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her
+goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's
+got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides
+the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt
+Polly!”
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of
+course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will
+take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that
+chair; and you have banged two doors in the last half-minute.” Miss
+Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable
+reason, she felt inclined to cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling
+inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+“Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors,” she admitted cheerfully. “You
+see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+doors if--” Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new interest.
+“Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?”
+
+“I hope--not, Pollyanna!” Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!” Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+“A shame!” repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+“Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+ever glad over anything--or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't have
+helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!”
+
+“PollyANna!” gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the
+distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had
+gone to help Nancy bring down “her things.”
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but then, of
+course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some changes--none
+of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+
+“And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,” she told her
+aunt in happy confidence; “'cause I wanted to bring it home all the
+time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.”
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery
+in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats--not
+even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+“Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+all mangy and fleay.”
+
+“I know it, poor little thing,” crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking
+into the little creature's frightened eyes. “And it's all trembly, too,
+it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep
+it, of course.”
+
+“No--nor anybody else,” retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+
+“Oh, yes, they do,” nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her
+aunt's words. “I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find
+where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it--poor little lonesome
+thing!”
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+had her now fast in its grip.
+
+“Of course I knew,” hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, “that you wouldn't
+let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,” she nodded happily, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Miss Polly. “I don't--” But
+Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+“Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going
+to bring up along with me!” And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room--who
+abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay, powerless
+to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy--a role that
+Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+that the woman--who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+possible--found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small,
+ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss
+Polly did have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot
+jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of
+friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna
+had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow
+herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was
+not playing it very well--she had been sorry for everything for so long,
+that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning
+fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she
+was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what
+she had been wanting--she did not know that Milly, at the front door,
+had told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent
+over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+“Hullo,” smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+“Hullo yourself,” he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,” she
+chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was “used
+to Ladies' Aiders,” and “didn't mind,” she had sighed at times for some
+companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of
+this one.
+
+“My name's Pollyanna Whittier,” she began pleasantly. “What's yours?”
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+settled back.
+
+“Jimmy Bean,” he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+“Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some folks
+don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+live?”
+
+“Nowhere.”
+
+“Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere,” asserted
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.”
+
+“Oh! Where is it?”
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+“Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!”
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she
+did not like to be called “silly.” Still, he was somebody besides--old
+folks. “Where did you live--before?” she queried.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!” sighed the boy
+impatiently.
+
+“I have to be,” retorted Pollyanna calmly, “else I couldn't find out a
+thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.”
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+time.
+
+“All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old goin'
+on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but they've
+got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+somewheres else--but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a
+home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of
+a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks
+since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but--they
+didn't want me--though I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is
+that all you want ter know?” The boy's voice had broken a little over
+the last two sentences.
+
+“Why, what a shame!” sympathized Pollyanna. “And didn't there anybody
+want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after--after my
+father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until
+Aunt Polly said she'd take--” Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of
+a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+
+“Oh, I know just the place for you,” she cried. “Aunt Polly'll take
+you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy
+and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to
+go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take
+you! You don't know how good and kind she is!”
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+“Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!”
+ He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+“Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the
+world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's
+rooms--heaps of 'em,” she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging
+at his arm. “It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,” she added a little
+anxiously, as they hurried on, “maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic
+room. I did, at first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so
+hot, and the flies can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on
+their feet. Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll
+let you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And you've
+got freckles, too,”--with a critical glance--“so you'll be glad there
+isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any
+wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm
+sure,” panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of
+her breath for purposes other than talking.
+
+“Gorry!” exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added: “I shouldn't think anybody who could talk
+like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time
+with!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,” she retorted; “for when I'm
+talking, YOU don't have to!”
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” she triumphed, “just look a-here! I've got something
+ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up.
+It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at
+first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most
+of the time to play with, I reckon.”
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+she thought she understood enough.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+you find him?” she demanded sharply.
+
+The “dirty little boy” fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+“There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy is--just like Fluffy
+and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve all
+right by washing, just as they did, and--Oh, I 'most forgot again,” she
+broke off with a laugh. “This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Well, what is he doing here?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+surprise. “He's for you. I brought him home--so he could live here, you
+know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.”
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+erect.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you
+must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who--”
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+fearlessly.
+
+“I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have
+come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me,
+a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter
+take me in. So, there!” And he wheeled about and stalked from the room
+with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” choked Pollyanna. “Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to
+have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The “good and kind” of the boy's
+words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was
+almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom
+of her will power.
+
+“Pollyanna,” she cried sharply, “WILL you stop using that everlasting
+word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning till night until I
+think I shall grow wild!”
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly,” she breathed, “I should think you'd be glad to have
+me gl--Oh!” she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+him.
+
+“Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am,” she
+panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+“Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,” retorted the boy, sullenly. “But I
+ain't no beggar!” he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+“Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,” appealed
+Pollyanna. “Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and
+I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and kind,
+really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do
+wish I could find some place for you, though!”
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+“Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you
+know.”
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+illumined.
+
+“Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them.
+That's what father always did, when he wanted anything--educating the
+heathen and new carpets, you know.”
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a Ladies'
+Aid?”
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+“Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know what a
+Ladies' Aid is!”
+
+“Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin',” grunted the boy, turning and
+beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+“It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give
+suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies' Aid is.
+They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven't
+seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going to tell
+them about you this afternoon.”
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear
+a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!”
+
+“Oh, but you wouldn't be there,” argued Pollyanna, quickly. “I'd go
+alone, of course, and tell them.”
+
+“You would?”
+
+“Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,” hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. “And there'd be some of
+'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home.”
+
+“I'd work--don't forget ter say that,” cautioned the boy.
+
+“Of course not,” promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point
+was gained. “Then I'll let you know to-morrow.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.”
+
+“All right. I'll be there.” The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+“Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see
+I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't leave till this
+mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+they'd pretend I couldn't come--though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+They don't CARE!”
+
+“I know,” nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. “But I'm sure, when
+I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care
+all ready for you. Good-by!” she called brightly, as she turned back
+toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a
+bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In
+her ears still was the boy's scornful “you was so good and kind.” In her
+heart was a curious sense of desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent
+meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried
+to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four
+times she was obliged to break off a “glad” in the middle of it, much
+to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved
+her head wearily.
+
+“There, there, child, say it, if you want to,” she sighed. “I'm sure I'd
+rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.”
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+“Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say it. You
+see I've played it so long.”
+
+“You've--what?” demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+“Played it--the game, you know, that father--” Pollyanna stopped with a
+painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies'
+Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry
+for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
+not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean
+before the Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called
+Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel
+next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+
+“I want them all to be there,” she said to herself; “else the very one
+that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy
+Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really--to
+Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel
+steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of
+feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a
+brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+Ladies' Aid.
+
+“How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?” she faltered politely. “I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU--only
+I don't know you all together this way.”
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+then.
+
+“I--I've come to--to lay the case before you,” stammered Pollyanna,
+after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's familiar
+phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+“Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?” asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's
+wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+“Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It
+was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father.”
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+“Yes, dear. What is it?”
+
+“Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean,” sighed Pollyanna. “He hasn't any home
+except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has
+a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him--to
+live with you, you know.”
+
+“Well, did you ever!” murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,” she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk
+among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was
+no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to
+think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who
+had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no
+one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's
+wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his
+support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year
+to the little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year.
+Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not
+have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at
+all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their
+society in a certain “report” “headed the list”--and of course that
+could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and
+not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she
+found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was very sorry,
+too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they
+would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than
+to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for
+which they would not get “a bit of credit in the report,” according to
+the tall lady who wore spectacles.
+
+“Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,” sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+as she trudged sorrowfully along. “But they acted as if little boys HERE
+weren't any account--only little boys 'way off. I should THINK, though,
+they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow--than just a report!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had
+been a hard day, for all it had been a “vacation one” (as she termed
+the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and
+Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a
+walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill,
+therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+“I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,” she was telling
+herself; “and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the
+woods, even if I do have to climb to get there.”
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+to-morrow.
+
+“I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud,” sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. “Anyhow, if they were up
+here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little
+boy, all right,” she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to
+give a reason for it, even to herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still
+barking.
+
+“Hullo, doggie--hullo!” Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly,
+but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was
+still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at
+once, whining and barking.
+
+“Ho! That isn't the way home,” laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth,
+between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining
+pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from
+his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal--so eloquent that at
+last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the
+side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,” snapped the
+man irritably. “See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have
+you got any sense?”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day--they didn't know
+I heard, though.”
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+“There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen.” He paused, and with some difficulty
+reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of
+keys, singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. “Straight
+through the path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key
+will admit you to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know
+what a porte-cochere is?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof
+I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk
+in the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to
+use a telephone?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Never mind Aunt Polly now,” cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+move himself a little.
+
+“Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+one!”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+names, and--”
+
+“Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle
+Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a
+stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to
+come by the path from the house.”
+
+“A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!” shuddered
+Pollyanna. “But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--”
+
+“Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+and stop talking,” moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now
+at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared
+verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she
+sped across the big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door
+under the porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon
+the keys, were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt
+in the lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she
+paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide,
+sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's
+house; the house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master
+entered; the house which sheltered, somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she,
+Pollyanna, was expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and
+telephone the doctor that the master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the
+hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold
+across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the
+fireplace, and touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in
+the middle of the room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly
+tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's
+to “Chilton.” In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end
+of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering
+the doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the
+receiver and drew a long breath of relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had
+left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+“Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?” he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+“Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,” she answered. “As if I'd be here
+if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as
+possible with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were,
+so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.”
+
+“Did you?” smiled the man, grimly. “Well, I can't say I admire your
+taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions.”
+
+“Do you mean--because you're so--cross?”
+
+“Thanks for your frankness. Yes.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!”
+
+“Indeed! How do you know that?” asked the man, trying to change the
+position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+“Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the dog,” she
+added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the dog's sleek
+head near him. “It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks
+better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your head,”
+ she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change
+was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+
+“Well, that is--better,” he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if
+his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself
+almost cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there
+so helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west
+and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she
+hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of
+her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost
+under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the
+motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his ears and whined softly; then he gave a
+short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna
+knew by sight as “Dr. Chilton”--advanced cheerily.
+
+“Well, my little lady, playing nurse?”
+
+“Oh, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “I've only held his head--I haven't
+given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.”
+
+“So am I,” nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+“Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,” she sighed in
+obvious relief. “It's half-past six!”
+
+“I know it,” admitted Pollyanna anxiously; “but I'm not to blame--truly
+I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.”
+
+“She won't have the chance,” retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+“She's gone.”
+
+“Gone!” gasped Pollyanna. “You don't mean that I've driven her away?”
+ Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories
+of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome
+“glad” and forbidden “father” that would spring to her forgetful little
+tongue. “Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?”
+
+“Not much you did,” scoffed Nancy. “Her cousin died suddenly down to
+Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three
+days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house
+tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?”
+
+“Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--”
+ Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. “Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+game,” she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+“I can't help it, Nancy,” she argued with a shake of her head. “It
+must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game
+on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral
+to be glad about.”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“We can be glad 'tain't our'n,” she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+himself.
+
+“Well, maybe 'tis natural,” he sighed. “Of course things you don't know
+about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way
+ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody
+over in India wanted ME?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West--but
+that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+come all the way here as I did!”
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+“Do you think they would--truly--take me?” he asked.
+
+“Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring
+up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time.
+I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait.
+I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs.
+White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most--which is
+kind of funny, isn't it?--when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+Aiders will take you.”
+
+“All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,”
+ put in Jimmy. “I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with
+Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.” He hesitated, then added: “An' I s'pose I
+better stay where I be fur a spell yet--till you hear.”
+
+“Of course,” nodded Pollyanna emphatically. “Then I'll know just where
+to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far enough away for
+that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!” she broke off, suddenly, “DO you
+suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?”
+
+“Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,” grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+said to her aunt one morning:
+
+“Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow
+wouldn't--this once.”
+
+“Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?” sighed her aunt. “You ARE
+the most extraordinary child!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+can't be ORdinary, can you?”
+
+“You certainly can not.”
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,” sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. “You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs.
+Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+awful. They were always fight--I mean, father had--that is, I mean, WE
+had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between any of
+the rest of the Aiders,” corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from
+her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in
+regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+“Yes, yes; well, never mind,” interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. “You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're
+talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!”
+
+“Yes'm,” smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, “I reckon I do, maybe. But you
+see they used to bring me up, and--”
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” interrupted a cold voice. “Now what is it
+about this jelly?”
+
+“Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this once. You see,
+broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+after just once or twice.”
+
+“'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?”
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods,
+you know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and
+the doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came
+away and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs.
+Snow this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him
+instead of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?”
+
+“Yes, yes, I suppose so,” acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. “Who
+did you say he was?”
+
+“The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.”
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+“JOHN PENDLETON!”
+
+“Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+“Do YOU know him?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+“Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross OUTSIDE, you
+know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+in,” finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+
+“Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've
+changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as
+usual. That is all. You may go now.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I
+mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,”
+ said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; “but--I do not care to be sending
+jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.”
+
+“I know, he is cross--outside,” admitted Pollyanna, sadly, “so I suppose
+you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas
+me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.”
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped,
+and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+“Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?”
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+“I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never.”
+
+“Does he know where you--live?”
+
+“Oh, no. I never told him that.”
+
+“Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?”
+
+“I don't think so.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna
+with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+Polly roused herself with a start.
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna,” she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+unlike her own; “you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does
+not think I do!”
+
+“Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly,” exulted Pollyanna, as she flew
+through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when
+she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows
+were open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard,
+and the doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch
+of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but
+there was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the
+clothes opened the door.
+
+“If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,”
+ smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“Thank you,” said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+hand. “Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?”
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+forward.
+
+“Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?” he asked genially. “That will be fine!
+Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+“But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any one?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded the doctor, imperturbably. “But I'm giving orders
+now. I'll take the risk.” Then he added whimsically: “You don't know, of
+course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton
+this afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.”
+
+“Who is she?”
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+“She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients
+do--I'm thankful to say!”
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+“Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?”
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+“I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated
+to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor
+of most of them. All is,” he added, with another whimsical smile, as
+he stepped out on to the porch, “I wish I could prescribe her--and buy
+her--as I would a box of pills;--though if there gets to be many of
+her in the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and
+ditch-digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,”
+ he laughed, picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk,
+and not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in
+its proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+“If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+doctor said I was to--to bring her in.”
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+“See here, didn't I say--” began an angry voice. “Oh, it's you!” it
+broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+
+“Yes, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see,
+at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't
+going to see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might.
+Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?”
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he
+said was “Humph!”
+
+“And I've brought you some jelly,” resumed Pollyanna; “--calf's-foot. I
+hope you like it?” There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+
+“Never ate it.” The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but
+it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+“Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if
+you knew--”
+
+“Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that
+I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay
+here--till doomsday, I guess.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it
+will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than
+we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of course I believe the
+Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would
+if it should come now, and--”
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in at that
+moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very silent--retreat.
+He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath
+of cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+“Aren't you getting a little mixed?” asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+“Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones, you
+know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours won't
+last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of that.”
+
+“Oh, I am,” retorted the man grimly.
+
+“And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.” Pollyanna
+was warming to her task.
+
+“Of course! So fortunate,” sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+“looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't
+a centipede and didn't break fifty!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“Oh, that's the best yet,” she crowed. “I know what a centipede is;
+they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--”
+
+“Oh, of course,” interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+coming back to his voice; “I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I
+suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the
+kitchen!”
+
+“Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have them!”
+
+“Well, I--eh?” he demanded sharply.
+
+“Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em--and
+you lying here like this!”
+
+“As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+matter,” retorted the man, testily, “because I am lying here like
+this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who
+aids and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the
+doctor who eggs 'em both on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+“Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've been
+saving it, too, all this time.”
+
+“When--eh?”
+
+“Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+cents?”
+
+“Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?”
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+“About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for the
+heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one
+of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.”
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+“Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire who
+Nancy is?”
+
+“Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?”
+
+“She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.”
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+“Miss--Polly--Harrington!” he breathed. “You live with--HER!”
+
+“Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know,” faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. “She was her
+sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of us in
+Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid;
+so she took me.”
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose uncertainly
+to her feet.
+
+“I reckon maybe I'd better go now,” she proposed. “I--I hope you'll
+like--the jelly.”
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a
+curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at
+which she marvelled.
+
+“And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece,” he said gently.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+“I--I suppose you know--her.”
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+“Oh, yes; I know her.” He hesitated, then went on, still with that
+curious smile. “But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it was Miss
+Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?” he said slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you
+think she did send it. But I--”
+
+“I thought as much,” vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The
+nurse stood on the steps.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?”
+ asked the doctor smilingly. “I started to drive on a few minutes ago;
+then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,” beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+“Do you?” smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young
+man on the steps. “Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many
+things you 'love' to do--eh?” he added, as they drove briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,” she admitted. “I like
+to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other
+things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+aren't LIVING.”
+
+“No? What are they, then?”
+
+“Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'” sighed Pollyanna, with a
+rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+“Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that.”
+
+“Yes,” responded Pollyanna. “But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.”
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+“After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl,” he said.
+Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at
+his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished,
+uneasily, that she could “do something.” It was this, perhaps, that
+caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+“Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+kind of a business there was.”
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+“'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?” he
+cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+“I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course you're
+glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us, all
+the time.”
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was
+a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room
+office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking
+now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been
+suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again
+would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without
+that new-found exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“God bless you, little girl,” he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: “And I'm thinking,
+after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+needed a draft of that tonic!” All of which puzzled Pollyanna very
+much--until a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter
+from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+“I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,” announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. “He's lovely, Nancy!”
+
+“Is he?”
+
+“Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+gladdest one there was.”
+
+“What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but thinks
+they is, which is worse?” Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad,
+even then. Guess!”
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this
+game of “being glad” quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+studying out Pollyanna's “posers,” too, as she called some of the little
+girl's questions.
+
+“Oh, I know,” she chuckled. “It's just the opposite from what you told
+Mis' Snow.”
+
+“Opposite?” repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+“Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like
+her--all sick, you know.”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks--the
+sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,” finished Nancy in triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+“Why, y-yes,” she admitted. “Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it. It
+isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but--You do play
+the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,” she sighed, as she went into the
+house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+“Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?”
+ questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?”
+
+“Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?”
+
+“He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and--”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+“Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?”
+
+“Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.”
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+“You TOLD him I didn't!”
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+voice.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!”
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+“I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different matter from
+TELLING him outright that I did not send it.” And she turned vexedly
+away.
+
+“Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,” sighed Pollyanna,
+as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by
+the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened
+pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+“Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,” she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+sitting room.
+
+“Got what, you impossible child?”
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+“And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
+mean,” she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
+above her ears. “But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
+can't hide the black part.”
+
+“Pollyanna, what does all this mean?” demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+
+“No, no--please, Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
+of distressed appeal. “Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
+about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
+pretty!”
+
+“Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?”
+
+“But it isn't nonsense,” urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
+her aunt's remarks. “You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
+like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+be ever so much prettier than she was!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
+because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+“loved” to see her “pretty”?) “Pollyanna, you did not answer my
+question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?”
+
+“Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
+and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
+I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
+you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
+as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
+let me do your hair, won't you?”
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
+upon her, she knew.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+them, I was so ashamed! I--”
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+“You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,” she crowed
+triumphantly; “and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
+sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
+didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
+wait just where you are. I'll get a comb.”
+
+“But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the
+little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+“Oh, did you come up here?” Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+Polly's own room. “That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit
+down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, I--I--”
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her
+hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle
+fingers.
+
+“Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,” prattled Pollyanna; “and there's
+so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need
+more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks
+can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it--and
+surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make
+you so pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair.
+“I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to
+look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much
+happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other
+kind I'm so sorry for them.”
+
+“But--but--”
+
+“And I just love to do folks' hair,” purred Pollyanna, contentedly. “I
+did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there wasn't any of them so
+nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked
+just lovely one day when I dressed her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell.
+Now your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you
+just a minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!” she finished, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+hair up properly again. As for “peeking” just as if she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in
+the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a flush of
+rosy color to her cheeks that--she only flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay
+in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the ears in
+wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+
+“Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?” she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.”
+
+“But, Pollyanna,” began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, “you
+must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you doing?” she gasped,
+as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she
+was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful
+lace shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+should not be “dressed up.”
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled
+her aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose
+blooming on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+
+“Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?” recoiled
+Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. “Pollyanna, I shall
+not--”
+
+“It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time,” panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and
+thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. “There!”
+ she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit
+of linen far from her. “Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I
+dressed you up!”
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through
+the open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+she leaned forward.
+
+“Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.”
+
+“Yes,” smiled the doctor, a little gravely. “Will you come down,
+please?”
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+“Pollyanna, how could you?” moaned the woman. “To think of your rigging
+me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!”
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+“But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--”
+
+“'Lovely'!” scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!”
+
+“Stay? Like this? As if I would!” And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+fingers.
+
+“O dear! And you did look so pretty,” almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+“I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled,” announced the doctor. “Will you go?”
+
+“You mean--an errand--to the drug store?” asked Pollyanna, a little
+uncertainly. “I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+“Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day,
+if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down
+after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before
+six o'clock.”
+
+“I'd love to!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober
+face.
+
+“Didn't--your aunt want you to go?” asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+“Y-yes,” sighed Pollyanna. “She--she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+afraid.”
+
+“Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!”
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+“Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone before.'”
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For
+some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+“Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the window of
+the sun parlor?”
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed
+her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed
+her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think
+she looked just lovely?”
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was
+so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+“Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely.”
+
+“Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,” nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+“Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+her--that.”
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+“But she might not be,” cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+“That's so--maybe she wouldn't,” she sighed. “I remember now; 'twas
+'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke afterwards about her
+being seen in that rig.”
+
+“I thought as much,” declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+“Still, I don't see why,” maintained Pollyanna, “--when she looked so
+pretty!”
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they
+were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a
+broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.”
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see
+why I shouldn't be, either.”
+
+“Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when
+you found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't
+think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would
+admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such
+ungrateful treatment as that!”
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+“But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad your leg
+was broken, of course,” she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+“I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while,
+doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you
+a very brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for
+the jelly, too,” he added in a lighter voice.
+
+“Did you like it?” asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+“Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that Aunt Polly
+DIDN'T send, is there?” he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir.” She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. “Please,
+Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+Polly did NOT send the jelly.”
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and
+turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous
+fretfulness.
+
+“Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see
+me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room where the
+telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of
+the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated'
+it to somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too
+heavy for you to carry, I think.”
+
+“Oh, I'm awfully strong,” declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang
+to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was
+full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+travel--and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether
+it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little
+jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+murmured wistfully:
+
+“Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to
+bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in
+that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.”
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself,
+and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides
+the wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking
+of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western
+town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+“Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going to tell
+you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were,
+the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded
+me of--of something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said
+to myself that I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the
+doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+
+“But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that--that
+the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+Will you--little girl?”
+
+“Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,” breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. “I'd
+love to come!”
+
+“Thank you,” said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+more wonderful things it contained.
+
+“And ter think,” sighed Nancy, “that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he never talks ter no
+one--no one!”
+
+“Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,” demurred Pollyanna, with
+quick loyalty. “I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either.
+They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him
+very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so
+afraid he'd think she did send it!”
+
+“Probably she didn't call him no duty,” shrugged Nancy. “But what beats
+me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna--meanin' no
+offence ter you, of course--but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally
+takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+“But he did, Nancy,” she nodded, “only I reckon even he didn't want
+to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he
+just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of
+something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--”
+
+“What's that?” interrupted Nancy, excitedly. “He said you reminded him
+of something he wanted to forget?”
+
+“Yes. But afterwards--”
+
+“What was it?” Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+“He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.”
+
+“THE MYSTERY!” breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. “That's why he
+took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just
+like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em had mysteries and things just
+like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+tell me everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!”
+
+“But he didn't,” cried Pollyanna, “not till _I_ talked to HIM, first.
+And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and--”
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!” she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again.
+“Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true,” she urged excitedly.
+“It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+to-day.”
+
+“I thought as much,” triumphed Nancy. “And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+jelly herself, would she?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“And you told him she didn't send it?”
+
+“Why, yes; I--”
+
+“And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you
+was her niece. He did that, didn't he?”
+
+“Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly,” admitted
+Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+“Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+HARRINGTON'S LOVER!” she announced impressively, but with a furtive
+glance over her shoulder.
+
+“Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,” objected Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+“Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!”
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+“It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had
+had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a lover! But
+Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in
+his life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never
+speak ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss
+Polly's niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of
+somethin' he wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas
+Miss Polly!--an' her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why,
+Miss Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!”
+
+“Oh-h!” breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. “But, Nancy, I
+should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both
+of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to
+make up!”
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+“I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You
+ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the
+world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n,
+it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he
+cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't she--”
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about
+whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+“I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it--so they
+WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some--Miss
+Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!”
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her
+visits were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her
+there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was
+there, he seemed scarcely any the happier for her presence--at least, so
+Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+and “regulatings” of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she was never sure that she would
+not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt
+look that always pained her; and she was never sure which--if any--of
+her words had brought it there. As for telling him the “glad game,” and
+trying to get him to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when
+she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
+her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
+conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
+she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
+mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
+to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
+sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
+stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
+tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
+would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
+about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
+the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
+with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
+Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
+Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+“If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,” Aunt Polly
+said.
+
+“Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,” gurgled Pollyanna. “I'd love to
+have Dr. Chilton come to see me!”
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+“It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,” Miss Polly said sternly. “Dr.
+Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
+are worse.”
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+
+“And I'm so glad, too,” Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. “Of
+course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
+and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
+really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
+you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,” she finished wistfully.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings,” reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
+then she sighed:
+
+“I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt Polly!” But her aunt
+was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and
+green edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped
+short in awed delight.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in to
+pay you a visit!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly.
+“Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?” she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+sorts with the world this morning.
+
+“Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+thermometer in the window,” he said wearily. “The sun shouldn't strike
+it at all but it does in the morning.”
+
+“Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that?
+My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!”
+
+“Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,” laughed the man.
+“How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was,
+if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?”
+
+“I shouldn't care,” breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+brilliant band of colors across the pillow. “Just as if anybody'd care
+when they were living all the time in a rainbow!”
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at
+his side.
+
+“Nora,” he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, “bring
+me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front
+drawing-room.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute
+she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she
+advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants
+encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+
+“Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,” directed the man. “Now
+get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window
+there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight
+across the window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,” he
+said, when she had carried out his directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.”
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by
+side, on the bed.
+
+“Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow--I
+don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!”
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up
+the rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a
+low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed
+itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+“Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!” breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+“I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't
+you?” she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not
+know what she was talking about. “Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those
+things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow
+and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think
+even Aunt Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she
+lived in a rainbow like that. Don't you?”
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+“Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight
+to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come, now, really,
+what do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.”
+
+“Suppose you tell me, then.”
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from
+the very first--from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+window.
+
+“And that's all,” she sighed, when she had finished. “And now you know
+why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+unsteadily:
+
+“Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+yourself, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!”
+
+“Don't you?” smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+“No,” she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: “I'm afraid,
+Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
+Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!”
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
+had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
+were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
+confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
+her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
+old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
+course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
+of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+“See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?” he
+asked, a little impatiently. “I don't see anything of you, nowadays.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+“I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,” she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+“Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
+be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
+around,” he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
+shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
+library to-day.
+
+“Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
+are,” pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
+“You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
+you don't!”
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+“That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?”
+
+“But I do. I want you. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!”
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+“You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me,” he
+finished more gently. “Would you come--if she did?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+“But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me,” she began slowly; “and she
+took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--”
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time,
+when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+“Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in
+our home all the long years to come.”
+
+“Yes,” pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+“But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been
+a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+you come, my dear?”
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,” sighed the little girl. “Now you
+can take us both, and everything will be lovely.”
+
+“Take--you--both?” repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+“Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will
+be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come,
+of course.”
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+“Aunt Polly come--HERE!”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+“Would you rather go THERE?” she asked. “Of course the house isn't quite
+so pretty, but it's nearer--”
+
+“Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?” asked the man, very gently now.
+
+“Why, about where we're going to live, of course,” rejoined Pollyanna,
+in obvious surprise. “I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it
+was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years
+to make a home, and--”
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at
+his side.
+
+“The doctor, sir,” said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+“Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you--yet,” he
+begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+
+“Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!” she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+“Why, what's up?” demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on
+his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+“Overdose of your--tonic, I guess,” he laughed, as he noted the doctor's
+eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook
+her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+
+“Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,” he suggested. “I want
+to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to
+tell you,” he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.
+“Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this
+afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+“Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.”
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+“I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,” he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. “You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+lady.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it was
+Aunt Polly.”
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+“Your--aunt!” he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+“Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.
+I--I'm going to tell you,” she burst out, with sudden decision. “He
+said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He
+meant not to mention it to HER.”
+
+“HER?”
+
+“Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself
+instead of having me do it--lovers, so!”
+
+“Lovers!” As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as
+if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna, happily. “That's the story-part, you see. I
+didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.”
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to
+his lap.
+
+“Oh! No; I--didn't know,” he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+“Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked
+me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly
+like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about
+the woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up
+the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will
+both go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course
+Aunt Polly doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.”
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+
+“Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to see you,
+Pollyanna,” he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.
+
+“There's Aunt Polly now in the window,” cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+later: “Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!”
+
+“No; she isn't there--now,” said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost
+their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+afternoon.
+
+“Pollyanna,” he began at once. “I've been trying all night to puzzle
+out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my wanting your Aunt
+Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?”
+
+“Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you
+still felt that way now.”
+
+“Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?”
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+eyes.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!”
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+“Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't know.”
+
+“Then you--weren't lovers?” Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+
+“Never!”
+
+“And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?”
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+
+“O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,” almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+“I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly.”
+
+“And you won't--now?” The man asked the question without turning his
+head.
+
+“Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.”
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+“Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's. And--it was
+your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.”
+
+“My mother's!”
+
+“Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+that I do--now.” John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He
+was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and
+frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. “I loved
+your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after a time she went away
+with--your father. I did not know until then how much I did--care. The
+whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and--But,
+never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable,
+unloved old man--though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then,
+One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you
+danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
+purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never wanted to
+see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your mother. But--you
+know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you
+always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?”
+
+“But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's eyes were
+blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+“What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that
+I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little
+girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make you glad, too, my
+dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last
+cent, should go to make you happy.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that money
+you've saved for the heathen!”
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna
+was still talking.
+
+“Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me
+to make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving
+them things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look
+at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
+Nancy on her birthday, and--”
+
+“Yes, yes--never mind about all that,” interrupted the man. His face
+was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for “giving
+things” that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. “That's all
+nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what there was, was because of you.
+YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,” he repeated, in answer to
+the shocked denial in her face. “And that only goes to prove all the
+more how I need you, little girl,” he added, his voice softening into
+tender pleading once more. “If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.”
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+“Aunt Polly has been so good to me,” she began; but the man interrupted
+her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's
+nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+
+“Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do,” he contested.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--”
+
+“Glad!” interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. “I'll
+wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything! Oh, she does
+her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience with
+her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of friends
+for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one knows
+her--and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to
+be. As for your coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let
+you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!” he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+“All right. I'll ask her,” she said wistfully. “Of course I don't mean
+that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but--” She
+did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+added: “Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;--'cause then
+I supposed SHE was wanted, too.”
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+“Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention
+it--yesterday.”
+
+“I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.”
+
+“The doctor!” cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+“Not--Dr.--Chilton?”
+
+“Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then
+he sat up with sudden interest. “And what did Dr. Chilton say?” he
+asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+imagine you did want to see me.”
+
+“Oh, did he, indeed!” answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered
+why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching
+thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John
+Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that
+time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was
+not so imminent.
+
+“Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,” announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+critically. “I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Was she?” murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her
+turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+“You don't seem ter notice what I said,” she observed aggrievedly. “I
+said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so
+soon to ask her aunt. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.”
+
+“Well, I'm glad,” retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. “I am, I am.”
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+“GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the
+way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!” she objected.
+
+“There wa'n't no game in it,” retorted Nancy. “Never thought of it. YOU
+don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+child!”
+
+“Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel,” maintained
+Pollyanna. “What else can it mean?”
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+“Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+duty by ye all the time.”
+
+“Why, Nancy,” demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, “Aunt Polly always
+does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!” Unconsciously Pollyanna
+repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's somethin'
+more, now, since you came.”
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+“There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,” she sighed. “Do you
+think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind--if if I wasn't
+here any more?”
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded
+it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how she could answer it
+honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in
+the face of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the
+afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy only welcomed the question with open
+arms. She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set
+the love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+
+“Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?” cried
+Nancy, indignantly. “As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+remember how at first she hated ter have--”
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+“And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,” rushed on
+Nancy, breathlessly. “It's little ways she has, that shows how you've
+been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down--the cat, and the dog, and
+the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here,” finished
+Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide
+the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was not
+quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am that
+Aunt Polly--wants me!”
+
+“As if I'd leave her now!” thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs
+to her room a little later. “I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt
+Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt
+Polly--to want to live with ME!”
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an
+easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because he seemed to be so
+sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that
+had made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of
+her mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great
+gray house as it would be after its master was well again, with its
+silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart
+ached for his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be
+found who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog
+at his feet.
+
+“Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of
+my life?” asked the man, gently.
+
+“Oh, yes,” cried Pollyanna. “I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+thing for you to do, and--”
+
+“With--YOU?” asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern at
+the corners.
+
+“N-no; but--”
+
+“Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!” interrupted a voice deep with
+emotion.
+
+“I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?”
+
+“I--I didn't ask her,” stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved
+gaze of her friend.
+
+“So you didn't even ask her!”
+
+“I couldn't, sir--truly,” faltered Pollyanna. “You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I want to
+stay, too,” she confessed bravely. “You don't know how good she's been
+to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad
+about things--lots of things. And you know she never used to be. You
+said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+“No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now,” he said. “I won't
+ask you--again.” The last word was so low it was almost inaudible; but
+Pollyanna heard.
+
+“Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,” she reminded him eagerly.
+“There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there is!”
+
+“Not for me, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for
+you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another one.”
+
+“As if I would have any but you!” resented an indignant voice.
+
+“But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of the
+prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the heathen,
+and--”
+
+“Pollyanna!” interrupted the man, savagely. “Once for all let us end
+that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There
+is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life.
+There!”
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected--the
+grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There
+was only surprised joy.
+
+“Oh, oh!” she cried, clapping her hands. “I'm so glad! That is,” she
+corrected, coloring distressfully, “I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want
+the little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm
+glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!”
+
+“Take--WHO?”
+
+“Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now--when he hears of
+this--he'll be so glad!”
+
+“Will he? Well, I won't,” ejaculated the man, decisively. “Pollyanna,
+this is sheer nonsense!”
+
+“You don't mean--you won't take him?”
+
+“I certainly do mean just that.”
+
+“But he'd be a lovely child's presence,” faltered Pollyanna. She was
+almost crying now. “And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy 'round.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined the man; “but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness.”
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+“Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!”
+
+“SKELETON?”
+
+“Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.”
+
+“Why, what--” Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+“Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know,” he said
+gently. “In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we aren't always willing
+to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to--our skeletons,
+Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about this nice
+little boy.” And Pollyanna told him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night
+she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the
+great house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+
+“And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,” sighed Pollyanna, as
+she said good-by. “I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home--and folks
+that care, you know.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+His children of men had wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse;
+until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had
+prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own
+that matters were no better, but rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most
+energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society
+because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a
+devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo
+work given to a fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor
+Society was in a ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its
+officers. As to the Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its
+superintendent and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and
+that had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done--and
+done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True,
+a few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+(God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+suffering; and must suffer still more unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled
+into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on
+which he had determined to speak:
+
+“'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut
+up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves,
+neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall
+receive the greater damnation.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+leave the other undone.'”
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it? Dare
+he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words that
+would follow--his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had pleaded
+earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed--oh, how earnestly he
+longed!--to take now, in this crisis, the right step. But was this--the
+right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down
+at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+“Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or anything,
+have you?” she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to
+smile.
+
+“No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting.”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. “That's all right, then.
+You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him--but he was
+lying down, though. And you are sitting up.”
+
+“Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that doctors can
+mend.”
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+“I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel like
+that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally. You see
+there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+“Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.”
+
+“Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+don't know all the family histories.”
+
+“Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled
+some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at
+them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance
+away--and it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead.
+Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+
+“It--it's a nice day,” she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+start.
+
+“What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day.”
+
+“And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,” observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. “Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said
+he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires,
+don't you?”
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+she tried again--by a new route.
+
+“Do You like being a minister?”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+“Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?”
+
+“Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+used to look like that--sometimes.”
+
+“Did he?” The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+“Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+minister.”
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Well--what did he say?”
+
+“Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too,
+that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing
+texts.”
+
+“The--WHAT?” The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+“Well, that's what father used to call 'em,” she laughed. “Of course the
+Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in
+the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that,
+you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he
+counted 'em. There were eight hundred of 'em.”
+
+“Eight hundred!”
+
+“Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why father
+named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'”
+
+“Oh!” There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen
+to the words on the top paper in his hands--“But woe unto you, scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!” “And so your father--liked those 'rejoicing
+texts,'” he murmured.
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. “He said he felt better right
+away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+want us to do it--SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done it
+more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when
+they DIDN'T AGREE about something,” corrected Pollyanna, hastily.
+“Why, it was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the
+game--he began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it.”
+
+“And what game might that be?” asked the minister.
+
+“About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As
+I said, he began with me on the crutches.” And once more Pollyanna
+told her story--this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister
+wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking.
+Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper--his sermon notes.
+Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper,
+blank--his sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of
+what he had written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination
+he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister
+who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was
+poring over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to “rejoice and be glad.”
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under
+his hand.
+
+“Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23,” he wrote; then, with a gesture of
+impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+
+“A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to
+fill his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to
+go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went.
+Why? Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to
+do the right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said
+to your mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill
+that woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as
+Tom was concerned!”
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+somewhere else:
+
+“What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting
+powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always
+harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out
+of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL
+self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful,
+helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole
+town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If
+a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too,
+before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his neighbors
+will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for
+the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the
+good--you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to
+fill that woodbox--then watch him start, alert and interested!”
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was
+on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth.
+Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in
+the chair at his desk.
+
+“God helping me, I'll do it!” he cried softly. “I'll tell all my Toms
+I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do,
+and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't
+have TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!” And he picked up his
+sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him,
+so that on one side of his chair lay “But woe unto you,” and on the
+other, “scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” while across the smooth
+white paper before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one
+black line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23.
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was
+a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and
+child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight
+hundred:
+
+“Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+that are upright in heart.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office
+to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it
+chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's
+office.
+
+“I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?” she
+said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Yes--such as 'tis,” he answered, as he wrote something on the pad
+of paper in his hand; “but it's a pretty poor apology for a home,
+Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+understanding.
+
+“I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to
+make a home,” she said.
+
+“Eh?” The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman's
+hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a
+woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean--if
+Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him.”
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+does he?” he asked evasively.
+
+“Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?”
+
+“Why don't I--what?” The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+“Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot.” Pollyanna's face
+showed suddenly a painful color. “I suppose I ought to tell you. It
+wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we--we
+aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was--but I made a
+mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,” she finished anxiously.
+
+“No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor, a little
+queerly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “You see
+you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of
+funny when I said I'd told YOU.”
+
+“Did he?” The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+“Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+Chilton?”
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+“They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“But I should think you could get 'em,” she argued. The flattering
+emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+“Thank you,” laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+again: “I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite
+so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown themselves to be
+so--obliging,” he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get somebody's hand
+and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and couldn't, did you?”
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now
+to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the
+directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured soberly, as she turned toward
+the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly
+alight: “Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you
+wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!”
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe
+distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was
+there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame
+that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp
+and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by
+a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly
+and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone,
+Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+“And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,” Nancy was
+sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was
+closeted in the hushed room; “ye didn't need ter more'n look at her
+aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands
+don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back
+the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom
+they don't, they don't!”
+
+“Is she hurt--bad?” The old man's voice shook.
+
+“There ain't no tellin',” sobbed Nancy. “She lay back that white an'
+still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead--an'
+Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept up such a
+listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!”
+
+“Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--” Old Tom's
+face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+“I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an'
+strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I
+always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I did, I did!”
+
+“But where is she hurt?”
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy. “There's a little cut on
+her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly says. She says
+she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.”
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+“I guess you mean internally, Nancy,” he said dryly. “She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't guess
+Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.”
+
+“Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy, with a shake of
+her head as she turned away. “Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it
+till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do--the
+biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!” she wailed, wringing her hands
+helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After
+he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn
+looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness,
+but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be
+expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night.
+That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+eyes and realized where she was.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,” she moaned, falling
+back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+
+“No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet,” soothed her aunt quickly, but very
+quietly.
+
+“But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?”
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+“Tell her,” the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+scarcely let her speak.
+
+“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran.” Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her
+hand to her forehead. “Why, it's--done up, and it--hurts!”
+
+“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest.”
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so--so
+queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!”
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to
+her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+
+“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I'm sure
+I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+swallow these little white pills for me.”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+“But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I want to
+get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?”
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled
+cry.
+
+“To-morrow?” smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+“Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna.
+But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what
+THEY'LL do.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; “but I MUST go to
+school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then, you know.”
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she
+had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school “to-morrow,” nor the “day after
+to-morrow.” Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily
+when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to
+her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly
+until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened
+somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be
+told all over again what had occurred.
+
+“And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,” she sighed at last. “Well,
+I'm glad of that.”
+
+“G-glad, Pollyanna?” asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+“Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+lifelong-invalids don't.”
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her
+face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+“I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,” she murmured
+contentedly. “That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't
+whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm glad 'tisn't
+appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're catching--measles are, I
+mean--and they wouldn't let you stay here.”
+
+“You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear,” faltered Aunt
+Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've been
+looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr. Pendleton
+gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said yet. I
+don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.”
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+“Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+times--and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'--by folks that
+belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me that; and
+of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged
+to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!”
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes
+were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room
+through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,” she panted. “You couldn't
+guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!”
+
+“Then I cal'late I won't try,” retorted the man, grimly, “specially as
+I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+first off, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+mistress? Who, I say?”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“There's no tellin',” he declared.
+
+“Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!”
+
+“Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.”
+
+“Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all! An'
+the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him, jest as
+if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter no
+one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on HER!”
+
+“Well, why not?” demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+“As if you didn't know better'n me!” she derided.
+
+“Eh?”
+
+“Oh, you needn't be so innercent,” she retorted with mock indignation;
+“--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!”
+
+“What do ye mean?”
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a
+step nearer to the old man.
+
+“Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the
+first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and
+I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five--an'
+no four at all, at all!”
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+“If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense,” he declared testily. “I never was no hand for figgers.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, it's this,” she explained. “I heard somethin' that made me think
+him an' Miss Polly was lovers.”
+
+“MR. PENDLETON!” Old Tom straightened up.
+
+“Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he
+was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never mind that part,”
+ she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna
+not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+“Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's
+been hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their
+names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.”
+
+“Yes, I remember,” nodded Old Tom. “It was three or four years after
+Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss
+Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter
+be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a little--she hated that minister
+chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter
+make trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.”
+
+“Runnin' after any man--her!” interjected Nancy.
+
+“I know it; but they did,” declared Old Tom, “and of course no gal of
+any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an'
+the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't
+have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to
+turn bitter at the core.”
+
+“Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,” rejoined Nancy; “an' that's
+why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the
+door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went
+an' told her.”
+
+“What did she say?” Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+“Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and I
+was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+out here an' told you,” finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+toward the house.
+
+“Humph!” grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious “parlor” of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of
+Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was
+coldly reserved.
+
+“I called to ask for--Pollyanna,” he began at once, a little brusquely.
+
+“Thank you. She is about the same,” said Miss Polly.
+
+“And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?” His voice was not quite
+steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+“I can't, I wish I could!”
+
+“You mean--you don't know?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But--the doctor?”
+
+“Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.”
+
+“But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?”
+
+“A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury to the
+spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips down.”
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily,
+he asked:
+
+“And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?”
+
+“She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I CAN'T tell
+her.”
+
+“But she must know--something!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture
+that had become so common to her of late.
+
+“Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+the other--doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it--it seems
+as if I should--die!”
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back
+to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her
+presence: “Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+control his voice:
+
+“I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me.”
+
+“With YOU!--Pollyanna!”
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+“Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her my
+heir, of course.”
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to
+her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough
+and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+
+“I am very fond of Pollyanna,” the man was continuing. “I am fond of
+her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood ready to give
+Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.”
+
+“LOVE.” Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child
+in the first place--and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: “I love to be called
+'dear' by folks that belong to you!” And it was this love-hungry little
+girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five
+years:--and she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking
+heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized
+something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+“Well?” she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+“She would not come,” he answered.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She
+wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to
+stay,” he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+“When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,” said a trembling voice.
+“Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
+the specialist.
+
+“Pollyanna, my dear,” she began gently, “we have decided that we want
+another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know.”
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
+wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
+seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!”
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+“Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
+about--about hurts like yours.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.”
+
+“But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+Chilton--truly I would!”
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
+stern decisiveness:
+
+“But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
+anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
+speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
+believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
+great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.”
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--”
+
+“WHAT, Pollyanna?” Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
+were very red, too.
+
+“I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,” sighed
+Pollyanna, “seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.”
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
+feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+“I am very sorry, Pollyanna,” she said, a little stiffly; “but I'm
+afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
+already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.”
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come “to-morrow.”
+ At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
+the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--“which would be so
+easy now, you know.”
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said “no, dear,” very
+decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+niece.
+
+“I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,” Nancy
+said to Old Tom one morning. “There don't seem ter be a minute in the
+day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
+what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+Miss Pollyanna!
+
+“An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
+the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
+down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
+besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
+didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
+hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
+all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
+wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
+child!”
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+“Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,” he observed
+dryly.
+
+“'Course she ain't,” retorted Nancy, indignantly. “She looks like
+FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--”
+
+“Keerful, now, Nancy!” interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. “You
+know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
+like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
+Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck.”
+
+“I told ye so,” nodded the man. “I told ye she wa'n't--old.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
+she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!”
+
+“Hain't ye?” asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. “Well, I
+guess ye won't then from me.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,” wheedled the girl. “Ye see, there ain't
+many folks here that I CAN ask.”
+
+“Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',” grinned
+Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. “How is she,
+ter-day--the little gal?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+“Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
+see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
+an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
+or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
+achin'.”
+
+“I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!” nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+“She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?”
+
+“Oh, yes. She told me long ago.” The old man hesitated, then went on,
+his lips twitching a little. “I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
+bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?”
+
+“I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
+ter be glad about!”
+
+“She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.”
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+“Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
+'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
+speak of--her aunt.”
+
+“MISS POLLY!”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+than I have,” she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+“I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her,” he
+explained with dignity.
+
+“Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN,” retorted Nancy. “I ain't sayin'
+what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
+she'd take ter playin' it herself!”
+
+“But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,” said
+Tom.
+
+“Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,” rejoined Nancy. “Miss Pollyanna told
+me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.”
+
+“Oh, I see, I see.” The old man nodded his head slowly. “They was always
+bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
+away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
+him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
+a bad mess,” he sighed, as he turned away.
+
+“Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round,” sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
+went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
+the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
+petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
+and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
+innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
+were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
+pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
+so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
+to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
+on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+realize that all this “gladness” was in the future, not the present.
+Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected,
+he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+
+“You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,” she added engagingly.
+
+“YOUR doctor?” Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren,
+talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small,
+brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,” smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. “Dr.
+Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh-h!” said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+“Yes.” Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+“You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about--about broken
+legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+you?”
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite translate.
+
+“Only time can tell that, little girl,” he said gently; then he turned a
+grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly,
+if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+“meow” of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply
+Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+“Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will NEVER WALK
+again!”
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+terrified “Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!” Then Miss Polly, seeing the open
+door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan
+and--for the first time in her life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking “She heard!” stumbled toward the open door.
+The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay--he had
+caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was
+not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the
+door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes,
+awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms
+back to unhappy consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the
+bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed
+little girl.
+
+“Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+please!”
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+pale.
+
+“She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little later.
+What is it? Can't I--get it?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't
+true--'tisn't true!”
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent
+an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+mean I can't ever--walk again?”
+
+“There, there, dear--don't, don't!” choked the nurse. “Perhaps he didn't
+know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could happen,
+you know.”
+
+“But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody
+else about--about broken legs like mine!”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't, dear.”
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. “But I can't help thinking about
+it,” she sobbed. “It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt,
+how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or
+anybody?” She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. “Why, Miss Hunt, if
+I can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not know “the game;” but she did know that her patient
+must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+with the quieting powder ready.
+
+“There, there, dear, just take this,” she soothed; “and by and by we'll
+be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half
+as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.”
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+“I know; that sounds like things father used to say,” faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. “He said there was always something
+about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard
+he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+that, that could be worse--do you?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she
+felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then
+to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and
+its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.
+She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few
+minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+
+“I'm Nancy, sir,” she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. “Miss Harrington
+sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+anxiety that lay behind that short “well?”
+
+“It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,” she choked.
+
+“You don't mean--” He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+“Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never.”
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+“Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!”
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+
+“It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism
+girl!”
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+“She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?”
+
+“But she does, sir.” sobbed Nancy, “an' that's what makes it all the
+harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,” apologized the
+girl, hurriedly. “It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way.”
+
+“Poor--little--girl!” sighed the man again.
+
+“Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,” choked Nancy. “I
+hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up
+both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps
+thinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,
+too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about her
+game, though,” broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+
+“The 'glad game'?” asked the man. “Oh, yes; she told me of that.”
+
+“Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.
+But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.
+She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'
+again, ter be glad about.”
+
+“Well, why should she?” retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+“That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD be
+easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remind
+her.”
+
+“To remind her! Of what?” John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+impatient.
+
+“Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb just
+cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy ter
+TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing when
+you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.”
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+eyes.
+
+“Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+nicer ter play when--when it was hard,” resumed Nancy, in a dull voice.
+“But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' I
+must be goin', now, sir,” she broke off abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+“I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Bean
+again, I s'pose, sir, could I?”
+
+“I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him,” observed the man a
+little shortly. “Why?”
+
+“Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she was
+feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She said
+she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well that
+day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nice
+child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; but
+I didn't, sir.”
+
+“Yes, I know--what she means.”
+
+“All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,
+she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And
+now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!”
+ And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never
+walk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.
+Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had
+always a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the “game” that
+Pollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smiling
+face be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery little
+voice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed
+unbelievable, impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+men talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talking
+nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,
+came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what had
+come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play
+the game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that her
+niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+injured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was these
+messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+
+“I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,” he began almost harshly.
+“But can--nothing be done?”
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+“Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying
+them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost no
+hope.”
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face was
+white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+presence. At the door he turned.
+
+“I have a message for Pollyanna,” he said. “Will you tell her, please,
+that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.
+Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,
+probably.”
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+
+“You will adopt Jimmy Bean!” she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+“Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+would be--GLAD!”
+
+“Why, of--of course,” faltered Miss Polly.
+
+“Thank you,” bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has
+just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his
+little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.”
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+“Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+presence.”
+
+“The--what?”
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told
+her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly she
+would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of
+leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+“The child's presence,” stammered Pollyanna, hastily. “Mr. Pendleton
+told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's
+presence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child's
+presence.”
+
+“Oh, I--see,” said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more than
+Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probably
+brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was
+asking HER to be the “child's presence,” which was to transform his
+great pile of gray stone into a home. “I see,” she finished, her eyes
+stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton
+house and its master.
+
+“Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or a
+child's presence, to make a home, you know,” she remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+“DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?”
+
+“He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--not
+a home.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+“So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, and
+have a home.”
+
+“Pollyanna!” Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+color.
+
+“Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful.”
+
+“What did he--say?” Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of some
+force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+“He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+couldn't always get 'em for the asking.”
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.”
+
+“Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?”
+
+“Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said
+that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world
+if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the
+matter?” Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+
+“Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,” said Aunt
+Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow
+called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly
+entered the room.
+
+“I--I came to inquire for the little girl,” she stammered.
+
+“You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?” rejoined
+Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+“That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+Pollyanna,” hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. “We
+think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too--for mother, you
+know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how
+now she couldn't play it herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see
+how she CAN, either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the
+things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about the
+game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--” Milly stopped
+helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was “queer,”
+ but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words.
+When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+“I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want
+me to tell my niece?”
+
+“Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,” answered the girl, feverishly.
+“Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I
+want her to know HOW different she is--and me, too. I'm different. I've
+been trying to play it--the game--a little.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+“game,” but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with
+nervous volubility.
+
+“You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was always
+wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+much--under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up,
+and she takes interest in things--how she looks, and her nightdress, and
+all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things--reins and baby
+blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD
+to think she can do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you
+know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didn't DO
+something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do something--to
+knit, you know. And you can't think what a different room it is now,
+what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the
+window that SHE gave her--why, it actually makes you feel BETTER just to
+go in there now; and before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark
+and gloomy, and mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+“And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand
+it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that
+we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that
+she knew us. And--and that's all,” sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+feet. “You'll tell her?”
+
+“Why, of course,” murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of
+many; and always there were the messages--the messages which were in
+some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle
+over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew
+her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was always in black.
+To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror
+at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+“I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps.”
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+“Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message,” she stammered.
+
+“Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.”
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+“Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS,” she said, just
+touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's ill-concealed
+look of surprise, she added: “The little girl has been trying for so
+long to make me wear--some color, that I thought she'd be--glad to know
+I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would.
+You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all--” Mrs. Benton
+shook her head and turned away. “If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand.” And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at least, she
+wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered
+vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as
+“Mrs. Tarbell.”
+
+“I'm a stranger to you, of course,” she began at once. “But I'm not a
+stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was
+on these walks that I've met your niece--she's such a dear little girl!
+I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very
+sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me
+of--my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear
+of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never
+walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any
+longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you.”
+
+“You are very kind,” murmured Miss Polly.
+
+“But it is you who are to be kind,” demurred the other. “I--I want you
+to give her a message from me. Will you?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I
+know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if you'll pardon me
+I'd rather not explain.” Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the
+smile left her eyes. “Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt
+that I must tell--her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+rudeness in my call,” she begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's
+at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean--we used to.”
+ Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+“We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you--but she
+wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+is glad now.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+“Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?”
+
+“Why, it's the game, and--” Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her
+lips.
+
+“What game?”
+
+“N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I tell
+other things that--that I'm not to speak of.”
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the
+shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks
+and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation--but
+whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been
+crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the
+little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in
+the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one
+was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was
+still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+“My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some of the
+things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and--and it broke me
+all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and--and
+I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd
+do more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred
+years. But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can
+make the best use of 'em, I notice.”
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+still husky.
+
+“Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl
+of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by
+often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the
+kids and talked to me--and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like
+it, and to like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks
+don't generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss
+Harrington, there wouldn't be so many--of my kind,” she added, with
+sudden bitterness.
+
+“Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't know--nor can't know,
+I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things--that I don't want
+her to know.
+
+“But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more
+ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and me, and ready
+for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the
+kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's
+never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and
+sit on our doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be
+glad. She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she
+told us why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play
+it.
+
+“Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+her, because she can't play it no more--that there's nothing to be glad
+about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day--that maybe she can be
+a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other, and
+play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+feel kind of bad--at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+Anyhow, we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?”
+
+“Yes, I will tell her,” promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then,
+with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. “And
+thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson,” she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits
+of the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary
+experience of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping
+point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress
+speak so sternly.
+
+“Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with
+it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to
+her that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town
+are putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to
+like something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I
+tried to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make
+much headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one
+of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?”
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+“It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin'
+ter make her a little glad, too.”
+
+“Glad of what?”
+
+“Just glad! That's the game.”
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+“There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?”
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+the eye.
+
+“I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her
+ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when
+she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would.
+It seems 'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin'
+but what there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an'
+that she could be glad about them crutches.”
+
+“Glad for--CRUTCHES!” Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was thinking of
+the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+“Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she
+said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she DIDN'T NEED
+'EM.”
+
+“Oh-h!” cried Miss Polly.
+
+“And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin' somethin'
+in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it, too, and
+that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause ye was
+so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest bein'
+glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.”
+
+“But, how--how--” Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+“An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,”
+ maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. “I
+wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out
+home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me
+glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things, an' big things; an'
+it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for
+a name half as much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't
+'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so.
+She's actually made me glad for Monday mornin's.”
+
+“Glad--for Monday mornings!”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed
+lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does
+she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should
+think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in
+the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another
+one!' An' I'm blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin'
+since--an' it HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I
+thought of it; an' laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!”
+
+“But why hasn't--she told me--the game?” faltered Miss Polly. “Why has
+she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?”
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+“Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her father;
+so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.”
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+“She wanted ter tell ye, first off,” continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. “She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I
+begun it, so she could have some one.”
+
+“And--and--these others?” Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+“Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think
+they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she
+told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they
+gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry
+one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't
+help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so
+bad--specially when they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find
+anythin' ter be glad about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter
+tell her how glad she's made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see,
+she's always wanted ev'rybody ter play the game with her.”
+
+“Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now,” choked Miss Polly, as she
+turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+“Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now,” she muttered to herself.
+“Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now--o' Miss
+Polly!”
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+Pollyanna alone together.
+
+“And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,” announced Miss
+Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. “Do you remember Mrs.
+Payson?”
+
+“Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes
+they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say,
+and of course they don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary
+minister, you know, like--well, he isn't.”
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+“But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being
+so poor,” resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. “And she's got perfectly
+beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?”
+
+“But they aren't going 'way off, dear,” evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+“They're going to stay right there together.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O dear!”
+ broke off the little girl, miserably. “Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+Mr. Pendleton again?”
+
+“There, there, don't,” choked her aunt. “Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson
+said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going to stay
+together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+“Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!”
+
+“Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make
+you--GLAD, Pollyanna.”
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know about
+the game, Aunt Polly?”
+
+“Yes, dear.” Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+matter-of-fact. “Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+to play it now--with you.”
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you most
+of anybody, all the time.”
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+“Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+all the town is playing that game now with you--even to the minister! I
+haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just
+as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you
+told him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it.
+The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully
+happier--and all because of one little girl who taught the people a new
+game, and how to play it.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. “Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway--else I
+couldn't have done--that!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story
+one day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a
+blown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did
+that didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the
+other story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two
+teeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth “hit”!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of
+bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the
+white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she had
+her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to think
+about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.
+John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and
+how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,
+and what bang-up “folks” Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it
+was all owing to her.
+
+“Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,”
+ Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed
+treatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's
+worst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into
+a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way
+to procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,
+and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides
+anxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged
+determination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat
+to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas
+Chilton.
+
+“Pendleton,” began the doctor, abruptly, “I've come to you because you,
+better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with
+Miss Polly Harrington.”
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--he
+did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+years, or more.
+
+“Yes,” he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+“Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+MUST make an examination.”
+
+“Well--can't you?”
+
+“CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--that
+the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+would be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her
+summoning me now--but I don't!”
+
+“But couldn't you go--without a summons?”
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+“Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know.”
+
+“But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+the quarrel--”
+
+“Forget the quarrel!” interrupted the doctor, savagely. “I'm not talking
+of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here
+there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It's
+PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?”
+
+“Chilton, what was the quarrel?” demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+“What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?” he snarled,
+pacing the room angrily. “A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or
+the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its having
+any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+or death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!”
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just
+as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached
+the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground
+outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+
+“Walk! Pollyanna!” John Pendleton was saying. “What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend of
+mine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a
+special study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.
+And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!”
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+“You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?”
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+“I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--Miss
+Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+best patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my hands
+still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!
+Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!”
+
+“Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!” retorted Pendleton.
+
+“But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'll
+never get!”
+
+“She must be made to ask you!”
+
+“How?”
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angry
+to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did ask
+me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when
+I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--” He
+did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,
+angrily.
+
+“But if she could be made to see--to understand,” urged John Pendleton.
+
+“Yes; and who's going to do it?” demanded the doctor, with a savage
+turn.
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+“Well, by Jinks, I know!” he whispered, exultingly. “I'M a-goin' ter
+do it!” And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the
+corner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+“It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,” announced Nancy in the
+doorway.
+
+“Me?” rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. “Are you sure he did not
+mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.”
+
+“Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.”
+
+“Very well, I'll come down.” And Miss Polly arose from her chair a
+little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+“Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think you
+would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+et--et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you
+WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood--”
+
+“Wh-at?” interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+“There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.”
+
+“Jimmy, what are you talking about?”
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+“That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.”
+
+“Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as
+you did before--and mix everything all up!”
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+“Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+talked in the library. Do you understand that?”
+
+“Yes, Jimmy.” Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+“Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it;
+an' I heard 'em talk.”
+
+“Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?”
+
+“'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',” bridled Jimmy.
+“And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make
+Pollyanna--walk!”
+
+“Jimmy, what do you mean?” Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+
+“There, I told ye so,” nodded Jimmy, contentedly. “Well, Dr. Chilton
+knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks--make her
+walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+him.”
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+“But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!” Miss Polly
+was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+“Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,” asserted
+Jimmy, eagerly. “They said that for some reason--I didn't rightly catch
+what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr. Warren so; an'
+Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him, on account of
+pride an' professional et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was
+wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they didn't know who
+could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away,
+'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?”
+
+“Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,” implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+“Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna
+walk?”
+
+“I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an'
+he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow,
+they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they
+was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An'
+say--you will let him come, won't you?--now you understand?”
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming
+in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes,
+thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she
+said brokenly:
+
+“Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick! I've
+got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a few
+minutes ago.”
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to
+hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+“Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+once--please? Thank you.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+“Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!” cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. “But, of course, if Aunt
+Polly doesn't want--”
+
+“It is all right, my dear; don't worry,” soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+hurrying forward. “I have told Dr. Chilton that--that I want him to look
+you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning.”
+
+“Oh, then you asked him to come,” murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+
+“Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--” But it was too late. The adoring
+happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and
+Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the
+room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+“Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever
+did has been done to-day,” he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+to themselves.
+
+“Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of all. Some
+day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your--uncle. And it's
+you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so--happy! And
+so--glad!--darling!”
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small
+palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+
+“Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted
+so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so glad! Why, Aunt
+Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind--even my legs,
+now!”
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+“Perhaps, some day, dear--” But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was quite wonderful
+enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+“Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages
+to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on
+purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr.
+Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do for you!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+“Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I did
+to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six steps. My, how
+good it was to be on legs again!
+
+“All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood
+beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week
+first, peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next
+month, was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and
+clapped her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through
+the piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying
+too much to call me anything.
+
+“I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't mind being
+here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding, anyhow. Wasn't
+that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get married right
+beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of the gladdest
+things!
+
+“Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any
+more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for
+everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never,
+never know how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them--that
+go, I mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+
+“With heaps of love to everybody,
+
+“POLLYANNA.”
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+    </title>
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+
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+  <body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***</div>
+  
+
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Eleanor H. Porter
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h4>
+      Author of &ldquo;Miss Billy,&rdquo; &ldquo;Miss Billy's Decision,"<br /> &ldquo;Cross Currents,&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;The Turn of the Tides,&rdquo; etc.
+    </h4>
+    <h5>
+      TO<br /><br /> My Cousin Belle
+    </h5>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>POLLYANNA</b> </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MISS POLLY <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OLD TOM AND NANCY
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        COMING OF POLLYANNA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        LITTLE ATTIC ROOM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION OF DUTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        AND PUNISHMENTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        PAYS A VISIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        TELLS OF THE MAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;INTRODUCING JIMMY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012">
+        CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEFORE THE LADIES' AID <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN PENDLETON WOODS
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JUST A
+        MATTER OF JELLY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;DR.
+        CHILTON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER
+        XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRISMS <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS SOMEWHAT
+        SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        IS MORE SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION ANSWERED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SERMONS
+        AND WOODBOXES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+        ACCIDENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JOHN
+        PENDLETON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        WAITING GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        DOOR AJAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TWO
+        VISITS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME AND ITS PLAYERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030">
+        CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JIMMY TAKES THE HELM <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A NEW UNCLE <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS A
+        LETTER FROM POLLYANNA <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June
+      morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she specially
+      prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was hurrying&mdash;actually
+      hurrying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+      working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew that
+      her mistress did not usually hurry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+      the pitcher in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo;&mdash;Miss Polly's voice was very stern now&mdash;&ldquo;when I'm
+      talking to you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to
+      say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the cloth
+      still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over&mdash;which did not add to
+      her composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,&rdquo; she stammered, righting the pitcher, and
+      turning hastily. &ldquo;I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you specially
+      told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mistress frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+      attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+      she could please this woman. Nancy had never &ldquo;worked out&rdquo; before; but a
+      sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children besides
+      Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward their
+      support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in the kitchen
+      of the great house on the hill&mdash;Nancy had come from &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo;
+       six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as the mistress of
+      the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest residents of the
+      town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly now as a stern,
+      severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to the floor, or if a
+      door banged&mdash;but who never thought to smile even when knives and
+      doors were still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,&rdquo; Miss Polly was saying
+      now, &ldquo;you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+      attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+      after you clear out the trunks and boxes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the front attic.&rdquo; Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: &ldquo;I suppose I may
+      as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is coming
+      to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be
+      nice!&rdquo; cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made
+      in the home at &ldquo;The Corners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,&rdquo; rejoined Miss
+      Polly, stiffly. &ldquo;However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I am
+      a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy colored hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here might&mdash;might
+      brighten things up for you,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; rejoined the lady, dryly. &ldquo;I can't say, however, that I see
+      any immediate need for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, of course, you&mdash;you'd want her, your sister's child,&rdquo; ventured
+      Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+      lonely little stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+      silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that was
+      already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly WANT to
+      have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope I know my
+      duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,&rdquo; she finished sharply, as she
+      left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher&mdash;now so
+      cold it must be rinsed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+      received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+      been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+      Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Madam:&mdash;I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+      two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+      practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know, he
+      was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre salary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+      understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+      however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child and
+      bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+      letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+      would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+      here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+      Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+      notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Respectfully yours,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeremiah O. White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its envelope.
+      She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would take the
+      child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for that!&mdash;disagreeable
+      as the task would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+      her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time when
+      Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+      minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man of
+      wealth who had wanted her&mdash;and the family had much preferred him to
+      the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+      well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+      head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+      Jennie had preferred these&mdash;quite naturally, perhaps; so she had
+      married the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+      been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had had
+      little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie herself
+      had written, for a time, and had named her last baby &ldquo;Pollyanna&rdquo; for her
+      two sisters, Polly and Anna&mdash;the other babies had all died. This had
+      been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there had
+      come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little note
+      from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+      on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+      thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother, sisters&mdash;all
+      were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of the house and of
+      the thousands left her by her father. There were people who had openly
+      pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have some friend or
+      companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed either their sympathy
+      or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She liked being by herself.
+      She preferred quiet. But now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad, of
+      course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew her duty,
+      but had sufficient strength of character to perform it. But&mdash;POLLYANNA!&mdash;what
+      a ridiculous name!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+      particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+      vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than it
+      was an ardor to efface dirt&mdash;Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+      submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;just&mdash;wish&mdash;I could&mdash;dig&mdash;out the corners&mdash;of&mdash;her&mdash;soul!&rdquo;
+       she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+      pointed cleaning-stick. &ldquo;There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+      all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+      this hot little room&mdash;with no fire in the winter, too, and all this
+      big house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!&rdquo;
+       snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain;
+      &ldquo;I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+      about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's done&mdash;my part, anyhow,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;There ain't no dirt
+      here&mdash;and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!&mdash;a
+      pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!&rdquo; she
+      finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she
+      ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly: &ldquo;Well, I don't care. I hope
+      she did hear the bang,&mdash;I do, I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+      interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths about
+      the place for uncounted years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom,&rdquo; began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make
+      sure she was unobserved; &ldquo;did you know a little girl was comin' here ter
+      live with Miss Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+      difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;to live with Miss Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on with yer jokin',&rdquo; scoffed unbelieving Tom. &ldquo;Why don't ye tell me
+      the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's true. She told me so herself,&rdquo; maintained Nancy. &ldquo;It's her
+      niece; and she's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho!&mdash;I wonder, now,&rdquo; he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+      faded eyes. &ldquo;It ain't&mdash;but it must be&mdash;Miss Jennie's little gal!
+      There wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+      Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+      a-seein' this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was Miss Jennie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was an angel straight out of Heaven,&rdquo; breathed the man, fervently;
+      &ldquo;but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She was
+      twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her babies
+      all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one what's
+      a-comin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she might be,&rdquo; nodded the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic&mdash;more shame ter HER!&rdquo; scolded
+      Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in the
+      house!&rdquo; snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,&rdquo; he grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if ever anybody could be fond of her!&rdquo; scorned Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,&rdquo; he said
+      slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love affair&mdash;HER! No!&mdash;and I guess nobody else didn't,
+      neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes they did,&rdquo; nodded the old man. &ldquo;And the feller's livin' ter-day&mdash;right
+      in this town, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.&rdquo; The old man drew
+      himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the
+      loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved for
+      long years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it don't seem possible&mdash;her and a lover,&rdquo; still maintained
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,&rdquo; he argued. &ldquo;She used ter be real
+      handsome&mdash;and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Handsome! Miss Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+      careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with posies
+      in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things&mdash;you'd see
+      she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of it&mdash;she
+      has, she has!&rdquo; sniffed Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. It begun then&mdash;at the time of the trouble with her
+      lover,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom; &ldquo;and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood
+      an' thistles ever since&mdash;she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal
+      with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say she was,&rdquo; declared Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;There's no pleasin'
+      her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't for the
+      wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some day&mdash;some
+      day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be good-by
+      Nancy for me. It will, it will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral&mdash;but 'tain't best, child;
+      'tain't best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.&rdquo; And again he bent his
+      old head to the work before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo; called a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes, ma'am,&rdquo; stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+      Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+      Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+      attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a
+      washstand, a bureau&mdash;without any mirror&mdash;and a small table.
+      There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the
+      wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little
+      room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had
+      not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+      down, up and down, trying to get out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+      an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, &ldquo;I found a fly
+      up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised at
+      some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you
+      to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive to-morrow at
+      four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take
+      the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says 'light hair,
+      red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I know, but I think
+      it is sufficient for your purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; but&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+      crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+      all.&rdquo; And she turned away&mdash;Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort
+      of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+      dish-towel she was ironing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'&mdash;all she
+      knows, indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would&mdash;and
+      her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+      drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+      Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+      Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. Short
+      as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good friends.
+      To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual
+      talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station
+      and alighted to wait for the train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over and over in her mind she was saying it &ldquo;light hair, red-checked
+      dress, straw hat.&rdquo; Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of
+      child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+      bang doors,&rdquo; she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,&rdquo;
+       grinned Timothy. &ldquo;Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+      the whistle now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Timothy, I&mdash;I think it was mean ter send me,&rdquo; chattered the
+      suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where she
+      could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before Nancy saw her&mdash;the slender little girl in the
+      red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+      back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to the
+      right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control her
+      shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was standing
+      quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you Miss&mdash;Pollyanna?&rdquo; she faltered. The next moment she found
+      herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,&rdquo; cried an eager voice in her ear.
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I hoped you
+      would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo; stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna
+      could possibly have known her&mdash;and wanted her. &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo;
+       she repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked like,&rdquo;
+       cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the embarrassed
+      Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. &ldquo;And now I know, and I'm glad you
+      look just like you do look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+      had been most confusing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, importantly. &ldquo;I've got a brand-new one.
+      The Ladies' Aid bought it for me&mdash;and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+      they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet a
+      trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow&mdash;much as half an
+      aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+      Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could get
+      my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+      Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And&mdash;there,
+      here 'tis,&rdquo; she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the
+      bag she carried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had to draw
+      one&mdash;after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy. Timothy's
+      eyes were studiously turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+      Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During the
+      whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+      uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+      Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis&mdash;I love to ride,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. &ldquo;Of course, if 'tisn't far,
+      I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the sooner,
+      you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty; father
+      told me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+      apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+      were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+      lifting of her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father told me all about it. He remembered. And&mdash;and I ought to have
+      explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once&mdash;about this red
+      gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think
+      'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+      barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+      suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots&mdash;worn, you know&mdash;on
+      both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to buy
+      me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go
+      toward the red carpet they're trying to get&mdash;for the church, you
+      know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+      like children in black&mdash;that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+      course, but not the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm sure it&mdash;it'll be all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again with that
+      choking little breath. &ldquo;Of course, 'twould have been a good deal harder to
+      be glad in black&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of
+      us, you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to&mdash;to
+      do it, even in red gingham, because I&mdash;I wanted him, so; and I
+      couldn't help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the
+      rest have God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the
+      Ladies' Aid. But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt
+      Polly. I'm so glad I've got you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her turned
+      suddenly into shocked terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but&mdash;but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,&rdquo; she faltered.
+      &ldquo;I'm only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you AREN'T?&rdquo; stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We&mdash;we
+      ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+      flash from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who ARE you?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't look a bit like a
+      Ladies' Aider!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy laughed outright this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an' hard
+      ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there IS an Aunt Polly?&rdquo; demanded the child, anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet your life there is,&rdquo; cut in Timothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then.&rdquo; There was a moment's silence, then she went
+      on brightly: &ldquo;And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't come
+      to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+      besides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I call that a pretty slick compliment,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Why don't you thank the
+      little lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I was thinkin' about&mdash;Miss Polly,&rdquo; faltered Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+      got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me. He
+      said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does. You can see it now,&rdquo; said Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how pretty!&mdash;and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+      never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+      Polly rich, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+      knew any one that did have, only the Whites&mdash;they're some rich. They
+      have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+      ice-cream Sundays?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+      Timothy's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never saw
+      it on her table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+      ice-cream. But&mdash;anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+      ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's did&mdash;that
+      is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got the
+      carpets, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she's got the carpets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In every room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in almost every room,&rdquo; answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+      thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love carpets. We didn't have any,
+      only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one of those
+      had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly beautiful
+      ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some lambs and a
+      lion&mdash;not together, you know&mdash;the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+      course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet&mdash;that
+      is, I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know,&rdquo; answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+      you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father sold
+      it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad it
+      fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass&mdash;it broke, you
+      know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+      things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better&mdash;not being
+      used to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+      the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+      perfectly beautiful house?&rdquo; she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+      the wide driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+      opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+      You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave! I should say not,&rdquo; grinned the youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+      'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fun!&mdash;fun!&rdquo; repeated Nancy, indignantly, &ldquo;I guess it'll be somethin'
+      more than fun for that blessed child&mdash;when them two tries ter live
+      tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+      refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!&rdquo; she
+      vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up from
+      her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+      sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with &ldquo;duty&rdquo; written large on
+      every coldly extended finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Pollyanna? I&mdash;&rdquo; She had no chance to say more.
+      Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+      aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that you
+      let me come to live with you,&rdquo; she was sobbing. &ldquo;You don't know how
+      perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've had
+      just the Ladies' Aid!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely&mdash;though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+      acquaintance,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the small,
+      clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the doorway.
+      &ldquo;Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to
+      stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you look like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+      anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+      red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows. I
+      told Nancy how father said&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly,
+      crisply. &ldquo;You had a trunk, I presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the Ladies'
+      Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it&mdash;of my own, I mean. The
+      barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them lately; but
+      there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she thought I ought to
+      have those. You see, father&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted her aunt again, sharply, &ldquo;there is one thing that
+      might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I do not
+      care to have you keep talking of your father to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you mean&mdash;&rdquo; She hesitated, and her aunt
+      filled the pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+      presume. I told Timothy to take it up&mdash;if you had one. You may follow
+      me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+      Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I&mdash;I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+      father,&rdquo; Pollyanna was thinking. &ldquo;It'll be easier, maybe&mdash;if I don't
+      talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+      about him.&rdquo; And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's &ldquo;kindness,&rdquo;
+       blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+      rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+      soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+      carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of picture
+      frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace curtains
+      flashed in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; breathed the little girl, rapturously; &ldquo;what
+      a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be you're so
+      rich!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached the
+      head of the stairs. &ldquo;I'm surprised at you&mdash;making a speech like that
+      to me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?&rdquo; queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+      be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,&rdquo;
+       declared the lady; &ldquo;certainly not, of RICHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway door.
+      She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room. Her idea
+      at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from herself,
+      and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness would not
+      destroy valuable furnishings. Now&mdash;with this evident strain of vanity
+      showing thus early&mdash;it was all the more fortunate that the room
+      planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+      eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that no
+      thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+      unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+      problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+      was waiting now her room&mdash;the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+      rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt
+      opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At the
+      top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners where
+      the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were stacked innumerable
+      trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      lifted her head higher&mdash;it seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw
+      that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see. Have
+      you your key?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+      not merely with your head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you need
+      here,&rdquo; she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+      pitcher. &ldquo;I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+      o'clock,&rdquo; she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking after
+      her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare floor, the
+      bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that had stood not
+      so long before in her own little room in the far-away Western home. The
+      next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its
+      side, covering her face with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, you poor lamb,&rdquo; she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+      drawing the little girl into her arms. &ldquo;I was just a-fearin! I'd find you
+      like this, like this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy&mdash;awful wicked,&rdquo; she sobbed. &ldquo;I just
+      can't make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+      than I did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more they did, neither,&rdquo; declared Nancy, stoutly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&mdash;NANCY!&rdquo; The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the
+      tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,&rdquo; she cried briskly.
+      &ldquo;Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+      your dresses in no time, no time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There aren't very many there, anyway,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then they're all the sooner unpacked,&rdquo; declared Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;course,&rdquo; she answered a little uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the patched
+      undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses. Pollyanna,
+      smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in the closet,
+      stacking the books on the table, and putting away the undergarments in the
+      bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sure it&mdash;it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+       she stammered, after a while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in the
+      trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully at the
+      bare wall above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+      there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth&mdash;but when
+      Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the windows,
+      a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her hands
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,&rdquo; she breathed. &ldquo;Look&mdash;'way off
+      there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+      the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody need
+      any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me have
+      this room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+      hurriedly crossed to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, Nancy&mdash;what is it?&rdquo; she cried; then, fearfully: &ldquo;This
+      wasn't&mdash;YOUR room, was it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My room!&rdquo; stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. &ldquo;If you ain't a
+      little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt before&mdash;Oh,
+      land! there's her bell!&rdquo; After which amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her
+      feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her &ldquo;picture,&rdquo; as she mentally
+      designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+      the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+      stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+      moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+      drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her eager
+      hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about the room.
+      Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had
+      made a wonderful discovery&mdash;against this window a huge tree flung
+      great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting
+      her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I can do it,&rdquo; she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+      nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+      the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+      from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+      ground was&mdash;even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees&mdash;a
+      little fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from
+      her strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then
+      she picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a bent
+      old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an open field
+      led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree stood on guard
+      beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there seemed to be just
+      one place in the world worth being in&mdash;the top of that big rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+      threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things, and&mdash;a
+      little out of breath&mdash;reached the path that ran through the open
+      field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+      thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+      window it had looked so near!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+      homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the bell
+      for supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+      with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+      hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+      intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+      appeared; &ldquo;my niece is late. No, you need not call her,&rdquo; she added
+      severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. &ldquo;I told her what time
+      supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She may as
+      well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down she may
+      have bread and milk in the kitchen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+      looking at Nancy's face just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+      stairs and thence to the attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bread and milk, indeed!&mdash;and when the poor lamb hain't only just
+      cried herself to sleep,&rdquo; she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed
+      open the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. &ldquo;Where are you?
+      Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?&rdquo; she panted, looking in the
+      closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+      Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,&rdquo; she wailed. &ldquo;She's vanished
+      right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb&mdash;and me told ter
+      give her bread and milk in the kitchen&mdash;her what's eatin' angel food
+      this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone? Heaven?&rdquo; he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the brilliant
+      sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment intently, then
+      turned with a slow grin. &ldquo;Well, Nancy, it do look like as if she'd tried
+      ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,&rdquo; he agreed,
+      pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined against the
+      reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge
+      rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night&mdash;not if I has my
+      say,&rdquo; declared Nancy, doggedly. &ldquo;If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+      furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,&rdquo; she flung back over her
+      shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,&rdquo;
+       panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+      regretfully slid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+      me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they found
+      I always came back all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I didn't even know you'd went,&rdquo; cried Nancy, tucking the little
+      girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. &ldquo;I didn't see
+      you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+      do, I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did, 'most&mdash;only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Came down the tree, outside my window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. &ldquo;I'd like ter
+      know what yer aunt would say ter that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,&rdquo; promised the
+      little girl, cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy!&rdquo; gasped Nancy. &ldquo;No&mdash;no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;er&mdash;yes&mdash;well, never mind. I&mdash;I ain't so very
+      particular about knowin' what she'd say, truly,&rdquo; stammered Nancy,
+      determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. &ldquo;But,
+      say, we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll help,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna!&rdquo; demurred Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took
+      a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared&mdash;a little,
+      'cause then you came after me,&rdquo; she shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I&mdash;I'm afraid you'll
+      have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't like
+      it&mdash;because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I couldn't. I was up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but&mdash;she didn't know that, you see!&rdquo; observed Nancy, dryly,
+      stifling a chuckle. &ldquo;I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see any
+      trouble about being glad about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',&rdquo; retorted
+      Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's brave attempts
+      to like the bare little attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;GAME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the 'just being glad' game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,&rdquo; rejoined
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+      girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it&mdash;some of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? I ain't much on games, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+      twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CRUTCHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but when
+      the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in, but
+      the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in handy
+      for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,&rdquo; declared
+      Nancy, almost irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad
+      about&mdash;no matter what 'twas,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. &ldquo;And we
+      began right then&mdash;on the crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about&mdash;gettin' a
+      pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is&mdash;there is,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;But <i>I</i> couldn't see it,
+      either, Nancy, at first,&rdquo; she added, with quick honesty. &ldquo;Father had to
+      tell it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,&rdquo; almost snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't&mdash;NEED&mdash;'EM!&rdquo;
+       exulted Pollyanna, triumphantly. &ldquo;You see it's just as easy&mdash;when you
+      know how!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the queer doin's!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna with
+      almost fearful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it isn't queer&mdash;it's lovely,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna
+      enthusiastically. &ldquo;And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+      the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only&mdash;only sometimes it's almost
+      too hard&mdash;like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't
+      anybody but a Ladies' Aid left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+      house with nothin' in it,&rdquo; growled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was a hard one, at first,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;specially when I was so
+      kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and I
+      HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I hated
+      to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out
+      the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be glad about. You
+      see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other
+      kind&mdash;like the doll you wanted, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most generally it doesn't take so long,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna; &ldquo;and lots of
+      times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+      used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it so
+      much,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;I suppose, though, it&mdash;it'll be a little harder
+      now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+      play it, though,&rdquo; she added, as an after-thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&mdash;HER!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, behind her teeth.
+      Then, aloud, she said doggedly: &ldquo;See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin'
+      that I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway;
+      but I'll play it with ye, after a fashion&mdash;I just will, I will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. &ldquo;That'll be
+      splendid! Won't we have fun?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Er&mdash;maybe,&rdquo; conceded Nancy, in open doubt. &ldquo;But you mustn't count
+      too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin'
+      ter make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+      ter play it with, anyhow,&rdquo; she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+      suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+      Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into
+      the kitchen to eat bread and milk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+      Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day, and
+      to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it
+      is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be careful how
+      you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See that you are down
+      to that. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+      and gave her an affectionate hug.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had such a beautiful time, so far,&rdquo; she sighed happily. &ldquo;I know I'm
+      going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before I
+      came. Good-night,&rdquo; she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. &ldquo;What a most
+      extraordinary child!&rdquo; Then she frowned. &ldquo;She's 'glad' I punished her, and
+      I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with me!
+      Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into
+      the tightly-clutched sheet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit now&mdash;not
+      one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be glad about
+      sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark&mdash;like this. If only I
+      was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it would be
+      easier!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed
+      her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If playin' a silly-fool game&mdash;about bein' glad you've got crutches
+      when you want dolls&mdash;is got ter be&mdash;my way&mdash;o' bein' that
+      rock o' refuge&mdash;why, I'm a-goin' ter play it&mdash;I am, I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her
+      arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not see
+      the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and she
+      knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+      Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+      window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt was
+      already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she made
+      herself ready to join her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+      Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+      screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+      Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+      alive!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect as
+      she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her neck.
+      &ldquo;Is this the usual way you say good morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from my
+      window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies' Aider,
+      and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just had to
+      come down and hug you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a frown&mdash;with
+      not her usual success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you&mdash;I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+      understand&mdash;about those rose-bushes,&rdquo; she said stiffly. Then she
+      turned and walked rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you always work in the garden, Mr.&mdash;Man?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna,
+      interestedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as if
+      with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,&rdquo; he answered. Timidly, but as if
+      impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+      it rest for a moment on her bright hair. &ldquo;You are so like your mother,
+      little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+      You see, I used ter work in the garden&mdash;then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did? And you knew my mother, really&mdash;when she was just a little
+      earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!&rdquo; And down
+      plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+      the back door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast&mdash;mornin's,&rdquo; she panted,
+      pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+      &ldquo;and other times it means other meals. But it always means that you're ter
+      run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye don't&mdash;well,
+      it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about
+      in that!&rdquo; she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo
+      an unruly chicken into a coop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss Polly,
+      her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here
+      and there over the table, said sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, where did those flies come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.&rdquo; Nancy had been too
+      excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; observed Pollyanna,
+      amiably. &ldquo;There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+      upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+      the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours!&rdquo; gasped Miss Polly. &ldquo;What do you mean? Where did they come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+      windows. I SAW some of them come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was grave,
+      but very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; directed her mistress, sharply, &ldquo;you may set the muffins down and
+      go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the doors,
+      also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every room with
+      the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To her niece she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+      that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+      forgotten YOUR duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My&mdash;duty?&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+      windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+      unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I will
+      give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+      hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized
+      timidly. &ldquo;I won't raise the windows again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+      over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out a
+      small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+      room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+      things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+      magnified, cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; The next moment she skipped merrily from the
+      room, banging the door behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+      opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up the
+      attic stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+      every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+      greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and interesting
+      in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why, I didn't
+      suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. &ldquo;Pollyanna, you may
+      bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+      suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned toward
+      the closet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did&mdash;and
+      THEY said they were shameful,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;But there were mostly things
+      for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and&mdash;did
+      you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she hurried on, with a hot
+      blush. &ldquo;I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+      sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich&mdash;up here in this room,
+      you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+      plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+      hurrying on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+      barrels&mdash;except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're
+      going to&mdash;even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every
+      time, too, that were hardest to play the game on, for father and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+      to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+      all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They aren't nice, at all,&rdquo; she choked, &ldquo;and they'd been black if it
+      hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've got.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+      garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+      frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got the best ones on,&rdquo; confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. &ldquo;The Ladies'
+      Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs. Jones&mdash;she's
+      the president&mdash;told 'em I should have that if they had to clatter
+      down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they won't. Mr.
+      White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says; but he's got
+      money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the carpet&mdash;on
+      account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad that if he
+      did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+      finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath&mdash;I mean, I was taught at home
+      some, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr. Hall,
+      the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong. Meanwhile,
+      I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to read
+      to myself&mdash;truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+      glad, either, for I like best to read to myself&mdash;on account of the
+      big words, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. &ldquo;Have you studied music?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much. I don't like my music&mdash;I like other people's, though. I
+      learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray&mdash;she plays for
+      church&mdash;she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+      Polly. I'd rather, truly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+      instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Pollyanna sighed. &ldquo;The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I had
+      an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle like the
+      rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought backstitching
+      ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other way), and Mrs.
+      Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever, at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+      shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+      presume.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't got
+      far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing. They
+      were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made it
+      alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to take
+      turns at me one forenoon a week&mdash;in their own kitchens, you know. I'd
+      only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when&mdash;when I had
+      to stop.&rdquo; Her voice broke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!&rdquo; scorned Miss Polly. &ldquo;I think we
+      can remedy that very soon.&rdquo; She paused in thought for a minute, then went
+      on slowly: &ldquo;At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+      half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+      order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+      spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you will
+      sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I shall, of
+      course, procure a teacher at once for you,&rdquo; she finished decisively, as
+      she arose from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all just
+      to&mdash;to live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+      Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+      asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living&mdash;doing the things you
+      want to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing
+      hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all
+      about the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+      perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+      living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+      proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if I am
+      willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and instruction,
+      YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that care and
+      instruction are not ungratefully wasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful&mdash;to YOU! Why, I
+      LOVE YOU&mdash;and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,&rdquo; vouchsafed Miss
+      Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+      after her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted to&mdash;to
+      give away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh&mdash;a sigh that ascended straight to
+      Pollyanna's ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town at
+      half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my niece
+      to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you if I
+      should let you appear out in any one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed now&mdash;she believed she was going to hate that word&mdash;duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please,&rdquo; she called wistfully, &ldquo;isn't there ANY way you can
+      be glad about all that&mdash;duty business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with very
+      red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. &ldquo;Don't be
+      impertinent, Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+      straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+      of duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,&rdquo; she sighed.
+      &ldquo;I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be glad about
+      in all that duty business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed on the
+      forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and began to
+      put away the dresses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,&rdquo; she said
+      aloud; &ldquo;unless&mdash;it's to be glad when the duty's done!&rdquo; Whereupon she
+      laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+      four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile from
+      the homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+      exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with the
+      feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at last
+      on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of a
+      volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of it
+      with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to keep their
+      friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna herself came
+      out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as she expressed
+      it to one of the clerks: &ldquo;When you haven't had anybody but missionary
+      barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly lovely to just
+      walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and that don't have to
+      be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+      and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+      on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid a
+      visit to a neighbor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her very
+      happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six miles away
+      at &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo; where lived her own dear mother, and her equally dear
+      brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if Miss Polly were
+      willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,&rdquo; sighed
+      Nancy. &ldquo;They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I&mdash;I just
+      hate 'Nancy'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+      and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names in
+      'em, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,&rdquo;
+       retorted Nancy, &ldquo;and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+      name's just grand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow,&rdquo; she chuckled, &ldquo;you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hephzibah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+      doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' she feels
+      just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+      like to be hurrahed at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?&mdash;I sha'n't
+      never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' and
+      giggle. My, I guess I AM glad&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped short and turned amazed
+      eyes on the little girl. &ldquo;Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean&mdash;was you
+      playin' that 'ere game THEN&mdash;about my bein' glad I wa'n't named
+      Hephzibah'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game&mdash;but that's one of the
+      times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots of
+      times; you get so used to it&mdash;looking for something to be glad about,
+      you know. And most generally there is something about everything that you
+      can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, m-maybe,&rdquo; granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet come,
+      and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes Pollyanna
+      looked at the two fast-closed windows&mdash;but she did not raise them.
+      She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew out her
+      candle and climbed into bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+      the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+      have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way across
+      the room and opened her door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung a
+      path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window. With
+      a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to the
+      left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+      silvery path, and on to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+      not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+      there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to hot
+      cheeks and hands!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+      she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+      Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled her
+      with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+      little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+      horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+      outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+      roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+      Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out of
+      doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window a
+      row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that they
+      contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little fearfully
+      now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice fat soft one
+      (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a thinner one to
+      be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was so thin it seemed
+      almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna in high glee
+      pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash, stuffed her burden
+      through to the roof below, then let herself down after it, closing the
+      window carefully behind her&mdash;Pollyanna had not forgotten those flies
+      with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+      delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin roof
+      under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna rather
+      liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from end to
+      end&mdash;it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after her
+      hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear
+      of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on
+      the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the other
+      for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,&rdquo; she murmured, blinking up
+      at the stars; &ldquo;else I couldn't have had this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly herself
+      was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+      frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice to
+      Timothy:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come up quick!&mdash;you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+      the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis or
+      somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the east
+      window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here&mdash;but
+      hurry, quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by a
+      lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes to
+      find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting through
+      the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean?&rdquo; cried Aunt Polly then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Tom&mdash;Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;Don't look so scared! It
+      isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+      only that I was so hot&mdash;in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly,
+      so the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+      precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+      Miss Polly bit her lip hard&mdash;until the men were gone; then she said
+      sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all the
+      extraordinary children!&rdquo; she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna
+      by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath of
+      the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long quivering
+      sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me.
+      The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my duty
+      to keep you where I know where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With you?&mdash;in your bed?&rdquo; she cried rapturously. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+      with some one sometime&mdash;some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+      Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+      didn't come! Wouldn't you be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to tell
+      the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna&mdash;and for the
+      third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+      punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+      Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+      something like order&mdash;though not exactly the order that Miss Polly
+      had at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and
+      studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of
+      these things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more
+      time, also, to &ldquo;just live,&rdquo; as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+      afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she liked&mdash;provided
+      she did not &ldquo;like&rdquo; to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to the
+      child as a relief to Pollyanna from work&mdash;or as a relief to Aunt
+      Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+      Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate &ldquo;What an extraordinary
+      child!&rdquo; and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+      conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+      Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+      homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+      outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far away,
+      they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's age.
+      This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,&rdquo; she explained to Nancy. &ldquo;I'm happy just
+      to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the people. I
+      just love people. Don't you, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I can't say I do&mdash;all of 'em,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, tersely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for &ldquo;an errand to
+      run,&rdquo; so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or another; and
+      it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To herself
+      Pollyanna always called him &ldquo;the Man,&rdquo; no matter if she met a dozen other
+      men the same day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat&mdash;two things
+      that the &ldquo;just men&rdquo; never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather pale,
+      and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked erect,
+      and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna vaguely
+      sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day spoke to
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?&rdquo; she called cheerily, as she
+      approached him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you speak&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he asked in a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; he grunted; and strode on again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day she saw him again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,&rdquo; she called out
+      cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+      laughed happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+      the man stopped abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+      you stopped. Now we're introduced&mdash;only I don't know your name yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; The man did not finish his sentence, but strode
+      on faster than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+      smiling lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe he didn't understand&mdash;but that was only half an introduction.
+      I don't know HIS name, yet,&rdquo; she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+      Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+      thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a
+      member of her church&mdash;it was the duty of all the church members to
+      look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually
+      on Thursday afternoons&mdash;not personally, but through Nancy. To-day
+      Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her
+      in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,&rdquo; Nancy had declared in private
+      afterwards to Pollyanna; &ldquo;though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the job off
+      on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'd love to do it, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you won't&mdash;after you've done it once,&rdquo; predicted Nancy,
+      sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a soul
+      go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All is, I
+      pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, why, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened, has
+      happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't run
+      ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas Sunday;
+      and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted chicken&mdash;but
+      if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for lamb broth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a funny woman,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I think I shall like to go
+      to see her. She must be so surprising and&mdash;and different. I love
+      DIFFERENT folks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right&mdash;I hope, for the
+      sake of the rest of us!&rdquo; Nancy had finished grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at the
+      gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling, indeed,
+      at the prospect of meeting this &ldquo;different&rdquo; Mrs. Snow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; began Pollyanna politely. &ldquo;I'm from Miss Polly
+      Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,&rdquo;
+       muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+      girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at the
+      end of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+      Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+      gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+      across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+      to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Jelly?&rdquo; murmured a fretful voice. &ldquo;Of course I'm very much obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,&rdquo;
+       she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; The sick woman turned sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothing, much,&rdquo; apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; &ldquo;and of course it
+      doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+      chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+      chicken&mdash;but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed&mdash;a
+      most unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow&mdash;and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too!
+      That would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+      Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's why
+      I'm here with the jelly this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+      interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on her
+      pillow listlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my appetite
+      isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped
+      suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. &ldquo;I never slept a
+      wink last night&mdash;not a wink!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear, I wish <i>I</i> didn't,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on
+      the little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair.
+      &ldquo;You lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lose time&mdash;sleeping!&rdquo; exclaimed the sick woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+      can't live nights, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Here! do you go to
+      that window and pull up the curtain,&rdquo; she directed. &ldquo;I should like to know
+      what you look like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?&rdquo; she sighed, as she went
+      to the window; &ldquo;&mdash;and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+      you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can&mdash;oh!&rdquo; she broke off
+      excitedly, as she turned back to the bed; &ldquo;I'm so glad you wanted to see
+      me, because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me!&mdash;pretty!&rdquo; scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. Didn't you know it?&rdquo; cried Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no, I didn't,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived forty
+      years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy wishing things
+      were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too, and
+      curly,&rdquo; cooed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love black curls. (That's one of the things
+      I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two little red
+      spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I should think you'd
+      know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The glass!&rdquo; snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. &ldquo;Yes,
+      well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days&mdash;and
+      you wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course not,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. &ldquo;But wait&mdash;just
+      let me show you,&rdquo; she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau and picking
+      up a small hand-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+      critical gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+      little before I let you see it,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;May I fix your hair,
+      please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I&mdash;suppose so, if you want to,&rdquo; permitted Mrs. Snow,
+      grudgingly; &ldquo;but 'twon't stay, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, carefully
+      laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. &ldquo;I sha'n't do much
+      to-day, of course&mdash;I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty you
+      are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+      lovely time with it,&rdquo; she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+      hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+      curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or shaking
+      a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better pose.
+      Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly scoffing at
+      the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to tingle with a
+      feeling perilously near to excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by and
+      tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect. &ldquo;Now I
+      reckon we're ready to be looked at!&rdquo; And she held out the mirror in
+      triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. &ldquo;I like
+      red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+      night, so what's the difference!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna,
+      &ldquo;'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+      hair fluffed out like that,&rdquo; she finished with a satisfied gaze. &ldquo;Don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hm-m; maybe. Still&mdash;'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on
+      the pillow as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;and I'm glad, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+      &ldquo;because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+      it's black&mdash;black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+      like mine does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair&mdash;shows gray too
+      soon,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+      mirror before her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you wouldn't!&mdash;not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for
+      black hair nor anything else&mdash;if you had to lie here all day as I
+      do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, 'twould be kind of hard&mdash;to do it then, wouldn't it?&rdquo; she mused
+      aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things&mdash;when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+      should say it would,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. &ldquo;If you don't think so, just
+      tell me something to be glad about; that's all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+      clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one&mdash;won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+      I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come I
+      can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,&rdquo; she called
+      again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?&rdquo; ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+      staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up the
+      mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,&rdquo; she muttered
+      under her breath. &ldquo;I declare, I didn't know it could look so pretty. But
+      then, what's the use?&rdquo; she sighed, dropping the little glass into the
+      bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+      still lay among the bedclothes&mdash;though it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mother&mdash;the curtain is up!&rdquo; cried Milly, dividing her amazed
+      stare between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what if it is?&rdquo; snapped the sick woman. &ldquo;I needn't stay in the dark
+      all my life, if I am sick, need I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, n-no, of course not,&rdquo; rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as she
+      reached for the medicine bottle. &ldquo;It's only&mdash;well, you know very well
+      that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+      wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+      nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress&mdash;instead of
+      lamb broth, for a change!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;mother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer behind
+      her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months had been
+      vainly urging her mother to wear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+      with a bright smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't so nice to-day, is it?&rdquo; she called blithesomely. &ldquo;I'm glad it
+      doesn't rain always, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna decided
+      that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore (which
+      happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She thought it
+      particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man was striding along,
+      his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the ground&mdash;which seemed,
+      to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the
+      freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a special treat, was on a
+      morning errand to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; she chirped. &ldquo;I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right now,
+      once for all,&rdquo; he began testily. &ldquo;I've got something besides the weather
+      to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.&rdquo; Pollyanna beamed
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well&mdash;Eh? What?&rdquo; he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding
+      of her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, that's why I told you&mdash;so you would notice it, you know&mdash;that
+      the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you only
+      stopped to think of it&mdash;and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+      thinking of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent
+      gesture. He started forward again, but after the second step he turned
+      back, still frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still, I
+      don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+      sometimes&mdash;being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?&rdquo; The man's
+      lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still trying
+      to hold them grimly stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider&mdash;not but
+      that you're just as good, of course&mdash;maybe better,&rdquo; she added in
+      hurried politeness. &ldquo;You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on
+      as before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight into
+      hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really pleasant,
+      Pollyanna thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good afternoon,&rdquo; he greeted her a little stiffly. &ldquo;Perhaps I'd better say
+      right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you don't have to tell me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, brightly. &ldquo;I KNEW you
+      knew it just as soon as I saw you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you did, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man, as he passed on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+      first, though usually he said little but &ldquo;good afternoon.&rdquo; Even that,
+      however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+      one day when the greeting was given.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she gasped, &ldquo;did that man SPEAK TO YOU?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, he always does&mdash;now,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who&mdash;he&mdash;is?&rdquo; demanded
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+      introducing, but he didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's eyes widened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he never speaks ter anybody, child&mdash;he hain't for years, I
+      guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+      Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill. He
+      won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him&mdash;comes down ter the
+      hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+      him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he wants
+      ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time&mdash;only it'll be
+      somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and I
+      took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally. We used
+      to say how glad we were we liked beans&mdash;that is, we said it specially
+      when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty
+      cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like 'em! What if he does&mdash;or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+      poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has&mdash;from his father.
+      There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills, if
+      he wanted to&mdash;and not know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna giggled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+      come to try to chew 'em!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;He ain't
+      spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, for the heathen,&rdquo; surmised Pollyanna. &ldquo;How perfectly splendid! That's
+      denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+      come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+      something that prevented the words being spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she went on:
+      &ldquo;But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss Pollyanna. He
+      don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great big lovely house
+      all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's crazy, and some
+      jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his closet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; shuddered Pollyanna. &ldquo;How can he keep such a dreadful thing?
+      I should think he'd throw it away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead of
+      figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+      correcting the mistake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;Some years he jest
+      travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen countries&mdash;Egypt
+      and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, a missionary,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed oddly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+      books&mdash;queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+      them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+      money here&mdash;leastways, not for jest livin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;if he's saving it for the heathen,&rdquo; declared
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs.
+      Snow, only he's a different different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess he is&mdash;rather,&rdquo; chuckled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as at
+      first, in a darkened room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,&rdquo; announced Milly, in a
+      tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it's you, is it?&rdquo; asked a fretful voice from the bed. &ldquo;I remember
+      you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you had
+      come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+      to-day is, then,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room, and
+      setting her basket carefully down on a chair. &ldquo;My! but aren't you dark
+      here, though? I can't see you a bit,&rdquo; she cried, unhesitatingly crossing
+      to the window and pulling up the shade. &ldquo;I want to see if you've fixed
+      your hair like I did&mdash;oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm glad you
+      haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it&mdash;later. But now
+      I want you to see what I've brought you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman stirred restlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,&rdquo; she
+      scoffed&mdash;but she turned her eyes toward the basket. &ldquo;Well, what is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess! What do you want?&rdquo; Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+      face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;After all, they
+      all taste alike!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+      been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+      what she DID want seemed impossible&mdash;until she knew what she had.
+      Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+      waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, there's lamb broth&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got it!&rdquo; crowed Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that's what I DIDN'T want,&rdquo; sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+      her stomach craved. &ldquo;It was chicken I wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I've got that, too,&rdquo; chuckled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman turned in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both of them?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; triumphed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I was just bound
+      you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+      course, there's only a little of each&mdash;but there's some of all of
+      'em! I'm so glad you did want chicken,&rdquo; she went on contentedly, as she
+      lifted the three little bowls from her basket. &ldquo;You see, I got to thinking
+      on the way here&mdash;what if you should say tripe, or onions, or
+      something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a shame&mdash;when
+      I'd tried so hard?&rdquo; she laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying&mdash;mentally to
+      find something she had lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I'm to leave them all,&rdquo; announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+      three bowls in a row on the table. &ldquo;Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+      want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?&rdquo; she finished in polite inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very poorly, thank you,&rdquo; murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her usual
+      listless attitude. &ldquo;I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins next door
+      has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly wild. She was
+      at it all the morning&mdash;every minute! I'm sure, I don't know what I
+      shall do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once&mdash;one of my Ladies'
+      Aiders, you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+      couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+      have. Can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrash 'round&mdash;move, you know, so as to change your position when
+      the music gets too hard to stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I can move&mdash;anywhere&mdash;in bed,&rdquo; she rejoined a
+      little irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?&rdquo; nodded
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have rheumatic
+      fever&mdash;though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says. She told
+      me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it hadn't been
+      for Mr. White's sister's ears&mdash;being deaf, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sister's&mdash;EARS! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+      White. You see, Miss White was deaf&mdash;awfully deaf; and she came to
+      visit 'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they
+      had such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+      every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White felt
+      so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she DID hear
+      it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if she was deaf
+      and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You see, she was
+      playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow&mdash;what you
+      can be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD about! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+      something to be glad about&mdash;glad, you know, even though you did have
+      to lie here abed all day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; scoffed the woman. &ldquo;THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't suppose
+      you were in earnest any more than I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I was,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; &ldquo;and I found it, too.
+      But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard. And
+      I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for a
+      while. Then I got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you, really? Well, what is it?&rdquo; Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+      polite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought&mdash;how glad you could be&mdash;that other folks weren't like
+      you&mdash;all sick in bed like this, you know,&rdquo; she announced
+      impressively. Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really!&rdquo; she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now I'll tell you the game,&rdquo; proposed Pollyanna, blithely confident.
+      &ldquo;It'll be just lovely for you to play&mdash;it'll be so hard. And there's
+      so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.&rdquo; And she began
+      to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll that did not
+      come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said with dreary
+      listlessness. &ldquo;She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+      says you're to hurry&mdash;that you've got some practising to make up
+      before dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'll hurry.&rdquo; Suddenly she laughed. &ldquo;I suppose I
+      ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+      were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+      cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by,&rdquo; flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+      &ldquo;I'm awfully sorry about the hair&mdash;I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+      next time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+      indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+      Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy; but
+      I trust that they are profitable, as well&mdash;otherwise I should have
+      failed signally in my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss&mdash;a
+      proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but one
+      day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they should
+      be just happy days?&rdquo; she asked wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I mean, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it&mdash;it's just being profitable&mdash;having profit, something
+      to show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna, a little
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you won't
+      ever play the game, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Game? What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+      &ldquo;N-nothing,&rdquo; she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said tersely. And the
+      sewing lesson was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room, met
+      her aunt on the stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You were coming up to
+      see me! Come right in. I love company,&rdquo; she finished, scampering up the
+      stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+      planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+      the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself, not
+      in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little room
+      sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs&mdash;so many, many times
+      since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+      utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+      out to do!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love company,&rdquo; said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+      dispensing the hospitality of a palace; &ldquo;specially since I've had this
+      room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas a
+      hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are they?
+      And of course I do own this one, don't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+      did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+      carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want&mdash;&rdquo; With a
+      painful blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+      different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably not,&rdquo; returned Miss Polly, coldly; &ldquo;but you did say it, so
+      suppose we have the rest of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+      carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PLANNING on them!&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized. &ldquo;It was only
+      because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh, we'd
+      had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and one had
+      ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those two
+      pictures; the one fath&mdash;I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+      that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+      wanted them, so&mdash;pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+      planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+      here, and&mdash;and&mdash;but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute&mdash;I
+      mean, a few minutes&mdash;before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T
+      have a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there
+      couldn't be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've
+      been so good to me, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said stiffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have said quite enough, I'm sure.&rdquo; The next minute she had swept down
+      the stairs&mdash;and not until she reached the first floor did it suddenly
+      occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a white wool
+      shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+      the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there for
+      the present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; said Nancy aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O glory!&rdquo; said Nancy to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter sleep
+      down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are&mdash;you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna actually grew white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;why, Nancy, not really&mdash;really and truly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you'll think it's really and truly,&rdquo; prophesied Nancy,
+      exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+      had taken from the closet. &ldquo;I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+      goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+      risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at a
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her goal&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's got
+      EVERYTHING&mdash;the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides the
+      one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of course;
+      but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will take proper
+      care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that chair; and you
+      have banged two doors in the last half-minute.&rdquo; Miss Polly spoke sternly,
+      all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable reason, she felt
+      inclined to cry&mdash;and Miss Polly was not used to feeling inclined to
+      cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm; I know I banged 'em&mdash;those doors,&rdquo; she admitted cheerfully.
+      &ldquo;You see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+      doors if&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new
+      interest. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope&mdash;not, Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!&rdquo; Pollyanna's face expressed only concerned
+      sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A shame!&rdquo; repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+      'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+      ever glad over anything&mdash;or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't
+      have helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANna!&rdquo; gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the distant
+      bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had gone to
+      help Nancy bring down &ldquo;her things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;&mdash;but then,
+      of course she HAD been glad&mdash;over some things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      August came. August brought several surprises and some changes&mdash;none
+      of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First there was the kitten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+      When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+      claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,&rdquo; she told her
+      aunt in happy confidence; &ldquo;'cause I wanted to bring it home all the time.
+      I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery in
+      Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats&mdash;not
+      even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+      all mangy and fleay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, poor little thing,&rdquo; crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking into
+      the little creature's frightened eyes. &ldquo;And it's all trembly, too, it's so
+      scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep it, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;nor anybody else,&rdquo; retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, they do,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her aunt's
+      words. &ldquo;I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find where it
+      belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it&mdash;poor little lonesome
+      thing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+      helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+      had her now fast in its grip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I knew,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, &ldquo;that you wouldn't
+      let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+      taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+      keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+      anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,&rdquo; she nodded happily, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Miss Polly. &ldquo;I don't&mdash;&rdquo; But
+      Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going to
+      bring up along with me!&rdquo; And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room&mdash;who
+      abhorred cats&mdash;fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay,
+      powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+      was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+      herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy&mdash;a role
+      that Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+      that the woman&mdash;who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+      possible&mdash;found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small, ragged
+      boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss Polly did
+      have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot jelly
+      again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of friends now.
+      Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna had made, the
+      one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was
+      playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it
+      very well&mdash;she had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was
+      not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's cheery
+      instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast.
+      To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she was glad
+      Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what she had
+      been wanting&mdash;she did not know that Milly, at the front door, had
+      told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent over a
+      great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+      whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo yourself,&rdquo; he mumbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; she
+      chuckled, stopping before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+      whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+      near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was &ldquo;used to
+      Ladies' Aiders,&rdquo; and &ldquo;didn't mind,&rdquo; she had sighed at times for some
+      companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name's Pollyanna Whittier,&rdquo; she began pleasantly. &ldquo;What's yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+      settled back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part&mdash;some folks
+      don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+      live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere! Why, you can't do that&mdash;everybody lives somewhere,&rdquo;
+       asserted Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't&mdash;just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it&mdash;if I knew!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she did
+      not like to be called &ldquo;silly.&rdquo; Still, he was somebody besides&mdash;old
+      folks. &ldquo;Where did you live&mdash;before?&rdquo; she queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!&rdquo; sighed the boy
+      impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to be,&rdquo; retorted Pollyanna calmly, &ldquo;else I couldn't find out a
+      thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+      willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right then&mdash;here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old
+      goin' on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but
+      they've got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+      wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+      somewheres else&mdash;but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a home&mdash;jest
+      a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has
+      a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks since&mdash;dad died. So I'm
+      a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but&mdash;they didn't want me&mdash;though
+      I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is that all you want ter
+      know?&rdquo; The boy's voice had broken a little over the last two sentences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a shame!&rdquo; sympathized Pollyanna. &ldquo;And didn't there anybody want
+      you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after&mdash;after my father
+      died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until Aunt
+      Polly said she'd take&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of a
+      wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know just the place for you,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Aunt Polly'll take you&mdash;I
+      know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy and Buffy,
+      when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to go?&mdash;and
+      they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take you! You
+      don't know how good and kind she is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!&rdquo; He
+      bared a small, bony arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the world&mdash;now
+      that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's rooms&mdash;heaps
+      of 'em,&rdquo; she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging at his arm.
+      &ldquo;It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,&rdquo; she added a little anxiously, as
+      they hurried on, &ldquo;maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at
+      first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so hot, and the flies
+      can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet. Did you
+      know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll let you read the book
+      if you're good&mdash;I mean, if you're bad. And you've got freckles, too,&rdquo;&mdash;with
+      a critical glance&mdash;&ldquo;so you'll be glad there isn't any looking-glass;
+      and the outdoor picture is nicer than any wall-one could be, so you won't
+      mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm sure,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, finding
+      suddenly that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than
+      talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gorry!&rdquo; exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+      admiringly. Then he added: &ldquo;I shouldn't think anybody who could talk like
+      that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time with!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,&rdquo; she retorted; &ldquo;for when I'm
+      talking, YOU don't have to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her companion
+      straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she triumphed, &ldquo;just look a-here! I've got something
+      ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up. It's
+      a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at first, you
+      know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most of the time to
+      play with, I reckon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+      she thought she understood enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+      you find him?&rdquo; she demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;dirty little boy&rdquo; fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+      Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+      And he is dirty, too, isn't he?&mdash;I mean, the boy is&mdash;just like
+      Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve
+      all right by washing, just as they did, and&mdash;Oh, I 'most forgot
+      again,&rdquo; she broke off with a laugh. &ldquo;This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is he doing here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+      surprise. &ldquo;He's for you. I brought him home&mdash;so he could live here,
+      you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+      and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+      course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+      throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+      With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+      erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+      done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you must
+      needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+      up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+      fearlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was cal'latin'
+      ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have come ter your
+      old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me, a-tellin' me how
+      you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter take me in. So,
+      there!&rdquo; And he wheeled about and stalked from the room with a dignity that
+      would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; choked Pollyanna. &ldquo;Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to have
+      him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+      Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The &ldquo;good and kind&rdquo; of the boy's words
+      were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was almost upon
+      her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom of her will
+      power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; she cried sharply, &ldquo;WILL you stop using that everlasting word
+      'glad'! It's 'glad'&mdash;'glad'&mdash;'glad' from morning till night
+      until I think I shall grow wild!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she breathed, &ldquo;I should think you'd be glad to have me
+      gl&mdash;Oh!&rdquo; she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+      blindly from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how&mdash;how sorry I am,&rdquo; she
+      panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,&rdquo; retorted the boy, sullenly. &ldquo;But I
+      ain't no beggar!&rdquo; he added, with sudden spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,&rdquo; appealed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and I reckon I didn't
+      tell her much who you were. She is good and kind, really&mdash;she's
+      always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do wish I could
+      find some place for you, though!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+      illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this afternoon.
+      I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them. That's what
+      father always did, when he wanted anything&mdash;educating the heathen and
+      new carpets, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides&mdash;what is a Ladies'
+      Aid?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?&mdash;not to know
+      what a Ladies' Aid is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, all right&mdash;if you ain't tellin',&rdquo; grunted the boy, turning and
+      beginning to walk away indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's&mdash;it's&mdash;why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew
+      and give suppers and raise money and&mdash;and talk; that's what a Ladies'
+      Aid is. They're awfully kind&mdash;that is, most of mine was, back home. I
+      haven't seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going
+      to tell them about you this afternoon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear a
+      whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you wouldn't be there,&rdquo; argued Pollyanna, quickly. &ldquo;I'd go alone,
+      of course, and tell them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+      see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. &ldquo;And there'd be some of 'em,
+      I know, that would be glad to give you a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd work&mdash;don't forget ter say that,&rdquo; cautioned the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point was
+      gained. &ldquo;Then I'll let you know to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the road&mdash;where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll be there.&rdquo; The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see I
+      hain't no other place ter stay; and&mdash;and I didn't leave till this
+      mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+      they'd pretend I couldn't come&mdash;though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+      worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+      They don't CARE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. &ldquo;But I'm sure, when I
+      see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care all
+      ready for you. Good-by!&rdquo; she called brightly, as she turned back toward
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+      watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a bend
+      of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+      listlesly up-stairs&mdash;and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly.
+      In her ears still was the boy's scornful &ldquo;you was so good and kind.&rdquo; In
+      her heart was a curious sense of desolation&mdash;as of something lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent meal
+      on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried to
+      talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four times she
+      was obliged to break off a &ldquo;glad&rdquo; in the middle of it, much to her
+      blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, say it, if you want to,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'm sure I'd
+      rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard&mdash;not to say it.
+      You see I've played it so long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Played it&mdash;the game, you know, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped
+      with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+      the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies' Aid
+      meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+      up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for
+      the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was not to
+      be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the
+      Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a
+      little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him that&mdash;before
+      the Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel next
+      the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+      therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want them all to be there,&rdquo; she said to herself; &ldquo;else the very one
+      that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy Bean
+      a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really&mdash;to
+      Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel steps,
+      pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of feminine
+      chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a brief
+      moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+      timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+      these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+      Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?&rdquo; she faltered politely. &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU&mdash;only
+      I don't know you all together this way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+      rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+      heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+      then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've come to&mdash;to lay the case before you,&rdquo; stammered
+      Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's
+      familiar phraseology.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a slight rustle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did&mdash;did your aunt send you, my dear?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Ford, the
+      minister's wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It was
+      Ladies' Aiders that brought me up&mdash;with father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it&mdash;it's Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;He hasn't any home
+      except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+      thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has a
+      mother instead of a Matron in it&mdash;folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+      ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him&mdash;to
+      live with you, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, did you ever!&rdquo; murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+      followed Pollyanna's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,&rdquo; she supplemented eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to question
+      her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk among
+      themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+      not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was no
+      woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to think
+      that some of the others might take him, as there were several who had no
+      little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no one who
+      agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's wife suggest
+      timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his support and
+      education instead of sending quite so much money this year to the little
+      boys in far-away India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+      and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+      their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+      said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year. Some
+      of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not have
+      understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at all what
+      the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their society in a
+      certain &ldquo;report&rdquo; &ldquo;headed the list&rdquo;&mdash;and of course that could not be
+      what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and not quite
+      pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she found
+      herself outside in the hushed, sweet air&mdash;only she was very sorry,
+      too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+      tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they would
+      rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than to save
+      out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for which they
+      would not get &ldquo;a bit of credit in the report,&rdquo; according to the tall lady
+      who wore spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+      shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+      as she trudged sorrowfully along. &ldquo;But they acted as if little boys HERE
+      weren't any account&mdash;only little boys 'way off. I should THINK,
+      though, they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow&mdash;than just a report!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the chapel.
+      She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had been a hard
+      day, for all it had been a &ldquo;vacation one&rdquo; (as she termed the infrequent
+      days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and Pollyanna was sure
+      that nothing would do her quite so much good as a walk through the green
+      quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed
+      steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,&rdquo; she was telling
+      herself; &ldquo;and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the woods,
+      even if I do have to climb to get there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+      experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+      notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+      to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish they were up here&mdash;all those ladies who talked so loud,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+      between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. &ldquo;Anyhow, if they were up here,
+      I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little boy, all
+      right,&rdquo; she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to give a
+      reason for it, even to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked some
+      distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, doggie&mdash;hullo!&rdquo; Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+      looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+      was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+      looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly, but
+      he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was still
+      barking&mdash;giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+      running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+      path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at once,
+      whining and barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! That isn't the way home,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+      main path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth, between
+      Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining pitifully.
+      Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from his
+      beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal&mdash;so eloquent that at
+      last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+      before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+      at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the side
+      path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+      head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,&rdquo; snapped the man
+      irritably. &ldquo;See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have you got
+      any sense?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but&mdash;as was her habit&mdash;she
+      answered the questions literally, one by one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+      great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+      said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day&mdash;they didn't
+      know I heard, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+      confounded leg of mine. Now listen.&rdquo; He paused, and with some difficulty
+      reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of keys,
+      singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. &ldquo;Straight through the
+      path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key will admit you
+      to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know what a porte-cochere
+      is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof I
+      slept on&mdash;only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+      vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk in
+      the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to use a
+      telephone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind Aunt Polly now,&rdquo; cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+      move himself a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+      around there&mdash;it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+      probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+      one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+      names, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle Ledge
+      in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a stretcher
+      and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to come by the
+      path from the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!&rdquo; shuddered
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I'm so glad I came! Can't <i>I</i> do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you can&mdash;but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+      and stop talking,&rdquo; moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+      cry, Pollyanna went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+      sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+      that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+      before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now at the
+      massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared verandas and
+      its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she sped across the
+      big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door under the
+      porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon the keys,
+      were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt in the lock;
+      but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its hinges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she paused
+      a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide, sombre
+      hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's house; the
+      house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master entered; the
+      house which sheltered, somewhere&mdash;a skeleton. Yet she, Pollyanna, was
+      expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and telephone the doctor
+      that the master of the house lay now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+      fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the hall;
+      but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold across the
+      floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the fireplace, and
+      touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in the middle of the
+      room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly tiptoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But Pollyanna
+      found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's to
+      &ldquo;Chilton.&rdquo; In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end of the
+      wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering the
+      doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the receiver
+      and drew a long breath of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+      vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+      floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+      conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+      through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had left
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+      Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;As if I'd be here if I
+      hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as possible
+      with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were, so I didn't
+      stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you?&rdquo; smiled the man, grimly. &ldquo;Well, I can't say I admire your taste.
+      I should think you might find pleasanter companions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean&mdash;because you're so&mdash;cross?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks for your frankness. Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're only cross OUTSIDE&mdash;You arn't cross inside a bit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! How do you know that?&rdquo; asked the man, trying to change the
+      position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, lots of ways; there&mdash;like that&mdash;the way you act with the
+      dog,&rdquo; she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the
+      dog's sleek head near him. &ldquo;It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides
+      of folks better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your
+      head,&rdquo; she finished abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change was
+      being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+      substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that is&mdash;better,&rdquo; he murmured faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+      wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if his
+      lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself almost
+      cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there so
+      helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+      motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+      wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west and
+      the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she hardly
+      seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of her hand,
+      and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost under her
+      nose&mdash;yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the motionless
+      dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last the dog pricked up his ears and whined softly; then he gave a
+      short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+      their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+      articles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tallest of the party&mdash;a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom
+      Pollyanna knew by sight as &ldquo;Dr. Chilton&rdquo;&mdash;advanced cheerily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my little lady, playing nurse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've only held his head&mdash;I haven't
+      given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+      injured man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+      John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy met her at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,&rdquo; she sighed in
+      obvious relief. &ldquo;It's half-past six!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna anxiously; &ldquo;but I'm not to blame&mdash;truly
+      I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won't have the chance,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+      &ldquo;She's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo; gasped Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't mean that I've driven her away?&rdquo;
+       Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories of the
+      morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome &ldquo;glad&rdquo; and
+      forbidden &ldquo;father&rdquo; that would spring to her forgetful little tongue. &ldquo;Oh,
+      I DIDN'T drive her away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you did,&rdquo; scoffed Nancy. &ldquo;Her cousin died suddenly down to
+      Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+      after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three days.
+      Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest
+      you and me, all that time. We will, we will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss
+      Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+      game,&rdquo; she reproached her gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't help it, Nancy,&rdquo; she argued with a shake of her head. &ldquo;It must be
+      that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game on&mdash;and
+      I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral to be glad
+      about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can be glad 'tain't our'n,&rdquo; she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+      not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+      open-mouthed, was listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+      according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+      keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, maybe 'tis natural,&rdquo; he sighed. &ldquo;Of course things you don't know
+      about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+      side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter
+      somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody over
+      in India wanted ME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+      Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West&mdash;but
+      that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+      come all the way here as I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy's face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think they would&mdash;truly&mdash;take me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring up?
+      Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time. I reckon
+      you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait. I'll write
+      'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got
+      the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most&mdash;which is kind of
+      funny, isn't it?&mdash;when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+      Aiders will take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right&mdash;but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an'
+      keep,&rdquo; put in Jimmy. &ldquo;I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even
+      with Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.&rdquo; He hesitated, then added: &ldquo;An' I
+      s'pose I better stay where I be fur a spell yet&mdash;till you hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna emphatically. &ldquo;Then I'll know just where to
+      find you. And they'll take you&mdash;I'm sure you're far enough away for
+      that. Didn't Aunt Polly take&mdash;Say!&rdquo; she broke off, suddenly, &ldquo;DO you
+      suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,&rdquo; grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+      said to her aunt one morning:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+      calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow wouldn't&mdash;this
+      once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?&rdquo; sighed her aunt. &ldquo;You ARE
+      the most extraordinary child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+      can't be ORdinary, can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly can not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, her face clearing. &ldquo;You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs. Rawson
+      was a very ordinary woman&mdash;and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+      awful. They were always fight&mdash;I mean, father had&mdash;that is, I
+      mean, WE had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between
+      any of the rest of the Aiders,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless
+      from her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands
+      in regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+      present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, never mind,&rdquo; interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle impatiently.
+      &ldquo;You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're talking about you
+      always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, &ldquo;I reckon I do, maybe. But you see
+      they used to bring me up, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted a cold voice. &ldquo;Now what is it about
+      this jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+      take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM&mdash;this once. You see,
+      broken legs aren't like&mdash;like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+      forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+      after just once or twice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+      were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods, you
+      know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and the
+      doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came away
+      and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs. Snow
+      this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him instead
+      of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I suppose so,&rdquo; acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. &ldquo;Who
+      did you say he was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JOHN PENDLETON!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do YOU know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles&mdash;now. He's only cross OUTSIDE,
+      you know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+      in,&rdquo; finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've changed
+      my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day&mdash;as
+      usual. That is all. You may go now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+      things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last&mdash;I
+      mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,&rdquo;
+       said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but&mdash;I do not care to be sending
+      jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, he is cross&mdash;outside,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna, sadly, &ldquo;so I
+      suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say
+      'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped, and
+      asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know who you&mdash;are, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me it&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know where you&mdash;live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I never told him that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he doesn't know you're my&mdash;niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna with
+      eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+      impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+      Polly roused herself with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+      unlike her own; &ldquo;you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+      own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does not
+      think I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm&mdash;no'm&mdash;thank you, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, as she
+      flew through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when she
+      made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows were
+      open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard, and the
+      doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the bell&mdash;her
+      fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch of keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but there
+      was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the clothes
+      opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo;
+       smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+      hand. &ldquo;Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+      and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo; he asked genially. &ldquo;That will be fine! Maybe
+      you'd like to see our patient, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+      from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+      vast surprise on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+      gave a disturbed exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit&mdash;any
+      one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, imperturbably. &ldquo;But I'm giving orders now.
+      I'll take the risk.&rdquo; Then he added whimsically: &ldquo;You don't know, of
+      course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+      any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton this
+      afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+      acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients do&mdash;I'm
+      thankful to say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this wonder-working&mdash;tonic
+      of hers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+      unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+      happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated to
+      me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor of most
+      of them. All is,&rdquo; he added, with another whimsical smile, as he stepped
+      out on to the porch, &ldquo;I wish I could prescribe her&mdash;and buy her&mdash;as
+      I would a box of pills;&mdash;though if there gets to be many of her in
+      the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and ditch-digging
+      for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,&rdquo; he laughed,
+      picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+      escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+      as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+      had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+      same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk, and
+      not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in its
+      proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+      mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+      way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+      bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, sir, here&mdash;here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+      doctor said I was to&mdash;to bring her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+      man lying flat on his back in bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, didn't I say&mdash;&rdquo; began an angry voice. &ldquo;Oh, it's you!&rdquo; it
+      broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see, at
+      first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't going to
+      see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might. Wasn't he
+      lovely to let me see you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he said
+      was &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I've brought you some jelly,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna; &ldquo;&mdash;calf's-foot.
+      I hope you like it?&rdquo; There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never ate it.&rdquo; The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+      to the man's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but it
+      cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+      anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if you
+      knew&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that I'm
+      flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay here&mdash;till
+      doomsday, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+      blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it will&mdash;oh,
+      of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than we think, but I
+      don't think it will&mdash;that is, of course I believe the Bible; but I
+      mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would if it should
+      come now, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton laughed suddenly&mdash;and aloud. The nurse, coming in at
+      that moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried&mdash;but a very silent&mdash;retreat.
+      He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath of
+      cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren't you getting a little mixed?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last&mdash;broken ones, you
+      know&mdash;like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours
+      won't last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am,&rdquo; retorted the man grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.&rdquo; Pollyanna
+      was warming to her task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course! So fortunate,&rdquo; sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+      &ldquo;looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't a
+      centipede and didn't break fifty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's the best yet,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;I know what a centipede is;
+      they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course,&rdquo; interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+      coming back to his voice; &ldquo;I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I suppose&mdash;the
+      nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the kitchen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, sir&mdash;only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have
+      them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em&mdash;and
+      you lying here like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+      matter,&rdquo; retorted the man, testily, &ldquo;because I am lying here like this!
+      And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+      disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who aids
+      and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the doctor
+      who eggs 'em both on&mdash;and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+      expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad&mdash;about the money&mdash;when you've
+      been saving it, too, all this time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saving it&mdash;buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+      beans?&mdash;or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+      cents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your money, you know&mdash;denying yourself, and saving it for the
+      heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one of
+      the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy told you I was saving money for the&mdash;Well, may I inquire who
+      Nancy is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a sudden movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss&mdash;Polly&mdash;Harrington!&rdquo; he breathed. &ldquo;You live with&mdash;HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up&mdash;on account of my
+      mother, you know,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. &ldquo;She was her
+      sister. And after father&mdash;went to be with her and the rest of us in
+      Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid; so
+      she took me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+      very white&mdash;so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose
+      uncertainly to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe I'd better go now,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;I&mdash;I hope you'll
+      like&mdash;the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a curious
+      longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at which she
+      marvelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you are&mdash;Miss Polly Harrington's niece,&rdquo; he said gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+      vaguely restless, murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I suppose you know&mdash;her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; I know her.&rdquo; He hesitated, then went on, still with that curious
+      smile. &ldquo;But&mdash;you don't mean&mdash;you can't mean that it was Miss
+      Polly Harrington who sent that jelly&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you think
+      she did send it. But I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+      And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The nurse
+      stood on the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?&rdquo; asked
+      the doctor smilingly. &ldquo;I started to drive on a few minutes ago; then it
+      occurred to me that I'd wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna,
+      as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you?&rdquo; smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young man
+      on the steps. &ldquo;Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many things
+      you 'love' to do&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he added, as they drove briskly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;I like to
+      do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other things
+      very well&mdash;sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+      aren't LIVING.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No? What are they, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, with a
+      rueful smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled now&mdash;a little queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does she? Well, I should think she might say&mdash;just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; responded Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+      think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I'm afraid some of us&mdash;do have to, little girl,&rdquo; he said.
+      Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at his face,
+      felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished, uneasily, that
+      she could &ldquo;do something.&rdquo; It was this, perhaps, that caused her to say in
+      a timid voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+      kind of a business there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Gladdest'!&mdash;when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?&rdquo;
+       he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; but you're HELPING it&mdash;don't you see?&mdash;and of course
+      you're glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us,
+      all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was a
+      singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room office
+      in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking now into
+      Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been suddenly
+      laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again would a long
+      day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without that new-found
+      exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, little girl,&rdquo; he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+      smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: &ldquo;And I'm thinking,
+      after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+      needed a draft of that tonic!&rdquo; All of which puzzled Pollyanna very much&mdash;until
+      a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter from her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+      sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,&rdquo; announced
+      Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. &ldquo;He's lovely, Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+      gladdest one there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&mdash;goin' ter see sick folks&mdash;an' folks what ain't sick but
+      thinks they is, which is worse?&rdquo; Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad, even
+      then. Guess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this game
+      of &ldquo;being glad&rdquo; quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+      studying out Pollyanna's &ldquo;posers,&rdquo; too, as she called some of the little
+      girl's questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know,&rdquo; she chuckled. &ldquo;It's just the opposite from what you told
+      Mis' Snow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Opposite?&rdquo; repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like her&mdash;all
+      sick, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks&mdash;the
+      sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,&rdquo; finished Nancy in triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+      way I said; and&mdash;someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it.
+      It isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but&mdash;You
+      do play the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed, as she went into
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that man&mdash;the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+       questioned the lady a little sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! What was he doing&mdash;here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You TOLD him I didn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+      that he did not think I DID!&mdash;which is a very different matter from
+      TELLING him outright that I did not send it.&rdquo; And she turned vexedly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as
+      she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+      which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+      committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+      o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by the
+      damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened pins had
+      given leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,&rdquo; she cried
+      rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+      sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got what, you impossible child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+      they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?&mdash;'fore I get to Heaven, I
+      mean,&rdquo; she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks above
+      her ears. &ldquo;But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You can't
+      hide the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does all this mean?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+      removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;please, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to
+      one of distressed appeal. &ldquo;Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm
+      talking about&mdash;those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      they're so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+      other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it isn't nonsense,&rdquo; urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of her
+      aunt's remarks. &ldquo;You don't know how pretty you look with your hair like
+      that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+      Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+      be ever so much prettier than she was!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; (Miss Polly spoke very sharply&mdash;all the more sharply
+      because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+      had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+      &ldquo;loved&rdquo; to see her &ldquo;pretty&rdquo;?) &ldquo;Pollyanna, you did not answer my question.
+      Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went and
+      found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then I wrote
+      to MY Ladies' Aiders&mdash;'cause Jimmy is far away from them, you know;
+      and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same as&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL let me do
+      your hair, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat&mdash;the old, helpless feeling was
+      upon her, she knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+      them, I was so ashamed! I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't!&mdash;You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,&rdquo; she crowed
+      triumphantly; &ldquo;and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round, sort of&mdash;like
+      it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you didn't send, but
+      didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now wait just where you
+      are. I'll get a comb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the little
+      girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did you come up here?&rdquo; Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+      Polly's own room. &ldquo;That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit down,
+      please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+      found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her hair
+      already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,&rdquo; prattled Pollyanna; &ldquo;and there's so
+      much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need more,
+      anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks can see it.
+      My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it&mdash;and surprised,
+      too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make you so
+      pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm
+      sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to look
+      at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much happier
+      when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other kind I'm so
+      sorry for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I just love to do folks' hair,&rdquo; purred Pollyanna, contentedly. &ldquo;I did
+      quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'&mdash;but there wasn't any of them so
+      nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked just
+      lovely one day when I dressed her up in&mdash;Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+      happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell. Now
+      your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you just a
+      minute; and you must promise&mdash;promise&mdash;PROMISE not to stir nor
+      peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!&rdquo; she finished, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+      should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+      hair up properly again. As for &ldquo;peeking&rdquo; just as if she cared how&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment&mdash;unaccountably&mdash;Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
+      herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a
+      flush of rosy color to her cheeks that&mdash;she only flushed the more at
+      the sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw a face&mdash;not young, it is true&mdash;but just now alight with
+      excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes sparkled.
+      The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay in loose waves
+      about the forehead and curved back over the ears in wonderfully becoming
+      lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+      that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+      heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+      felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+      you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+      take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna,&rdquo; began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, &ldquo;you
+      must take this off! You&mdash;child, child! what ARE you doing?&rdquo; she
+      gasped, as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she was
+      draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful lace
+      shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+      lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+      been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+      was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+      should not be &ldquo;dressed up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+      but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled her
+      aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose blooming
+      on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?&rdquo; recoiled Aunt
+      Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. &ldquo;Pollyanna, I shall not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's just to the sun parlor&mdash;only a minute! I'll have you ready now
+      quicker'n no time,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and thrusting
+      it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she exulted,
+      untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit of linen far
+      from her. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I dressed you up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+      surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+      following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through the
+      open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+      driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+      she leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; smiled the doctor, a little gravely. &ldquo;Will you come down, please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman plucking
+      at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, how could you?&rdquo; moaned the woman. &ldquo;To think of your rigging me
+      up like this, and then letting me&mdash;BE SEEN!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you looked lovely&mdash;perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Lovely'!&rdquo; scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+      attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay? Like this? As if I would!&rdquo; And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+      tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+      fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And you did look so pretty,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+      stumbled through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+      prescription filled,&rdquo; announced the doctor. &ldquo;Will you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;an errand&mdash;to the drug store?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna, a
+      little uncertainly. &ldquo;I used to go some&mdash;for the Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day, if
+      you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down after
+      you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before six
+      o'clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd love to!&rdquo; exclaimed Pollyanna. &ldquo;Let me ask Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't&mdash;your aunt want you to go?&rdquo; asked the doctor, a little
+      diffidently, as they drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;She&mdash;she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+      afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+      'Yes, yes, run along, run along&mdash;do! I wish you'd gone before.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled&mdash;but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave.
+      For some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wasn't it&mdash;your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago&mdash;in the
+      window of the sun parlor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed her
+      up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed her
+      hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think she
+      looked just lovely?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was so
+      low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I thought she did look&mdash;just lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,&rdquo; nodded the little girl,
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never! Pollyanna, I&mdash;I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+      her&mdash;that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she might not be,&rdquo; cut in the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so&mdash;maybe she wouldn't,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I remember now; 'twas
+      'cause she saw you that she ran. And she&mdash;she spoke afterwards about
+      her being seen in that rig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; declared the doctor, under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, I don't see why,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna, &ldquo;&mdash;when she looked so
+      pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they were
+      almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a broken
+      leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. &ldquo;JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <h3>
+      John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+      person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see why
+      I shouldn't be, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+      other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when you
+      found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't think I've
+      ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would admit that you
+      were very forgiving to come and see me, after such ungrateful treatment as
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was glad to find you&mdash;that is, I don't mean I was glad your
+      leg was broken, of course,&rdquo; she corrected hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while, doesn't
+      it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you a very
+      brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for the jelly,
+      too,&rdquo; he added in a lighter voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you like it?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much. I suppose&mdash;there isn't any more to-day that&mdash;that
+      Aunt Polly DIDN'T send, is there?&rdquo; he asked with an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir.&rdquo; She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. &ldquo;Please,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+      Polly did NOT send the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+      straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+      beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and turned
+      to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous fretfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see me
+      moping this time. Listen! Out in the library&mdash;the big room where the
+      telephone is, you know&mdash;you will find a carved box on the lower shelf
+      of the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+      That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated' it to
+      somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too heavy for
+      you to carry, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm awfully strong,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang to
+      her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was full
+      of treasures&mdash;curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+      travel&mdash;and concerning each there was some entertaining story,
+      whether it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a
+      little jade idol from India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+      murmured wistfully:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to bring
+      up&mdash;one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in that
+      doll-thing&mdash;than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+      knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+      Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring straight
+      before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself, and had
+      picked up another curio to talk about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+      Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides the
+      wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking of
+      herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+      talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+      Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm lonesome,
+      and I need you. There's another reason&mdash;and I'm going to tell you
+      that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were, the other
+      day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded me of&mdash;of
+      something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said to myself that
+      I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the doctor asked if I
+      wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that&mdash;that
+      the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+      vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+      Will you&mdash;little girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+      sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. &ldquo;I'd
+      love to come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said John Pendleton, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+      Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+      more wonderful things it contained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ter think,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, &ldquo;that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+      told ye about 'em like that&mdash;him that's so cross he never talks ter
+      no one&mdash;no one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,&rdquo; demurred Pollyanna, with
+      quick loyalty. &ldquo;I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either. They
+      wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him very
+      well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so afraid
+      he'd think she did send it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably she didn't call him no duty,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;But what beats me
+      is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna&mdash;meanin' no
+      offence ter you, of course&mdash;but he ain't the sort o' man what
+      gen'rally takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he did, Nancy,&rdquo; she nodded, &ldquo;only I reckon even he didn't want to&mdash;ALL
+      the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he just felt he never
+      wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of something he wanted to
+      forget. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; interrupted Nancy, excitedly. &ldquo;He said you reminded him of
+      something he wanted to forget?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it?&rdquo; Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;THE MYSTERY!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. &ldquo;That's why he took
+      to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just like a
+      book&mdash;I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+      Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'&mdash;all of 'em had mysteries and things
+      just like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+      right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+      tell me everythin'&mdash;everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a
+      dear! No wonder he took ter you; no wonder&mdash;no wonder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he didn't,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, &ldquo;not till <i>I</i> talked to HIM, first.
+      And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+      had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know&mdash;I KNOW I know!&rdquo; she exulted
+      rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again. &ldquo;Tell
+      me&mdash;now think, and answer straight and true,&rdquo; she urged excitedly.
+      &ldquo;It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+      didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; triumphed Nancy. &ldquo;And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+      jelly herself, would she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you told him she didn't send it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes; I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you was
+      her niece. He did that, didn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer&mdash;over that jelly,&rdquo; admitted
+      Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+      HARRINGTON'S LOVER!&rdquo; she announced impressively, but with a furtive glance
+      over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,&rdquo; objected Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+      happily settled herself to tell the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had had
+      a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't&mdash;her and a lover! But
+      Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+      NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in his
+      life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never speak
+      ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss Polly's
+      niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of somethin' he
+      wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas Miss Polly!&mdash;an'
+      her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why, Miss Pollyanna, it's
+      as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. &ldquo;But, Nancy, I should
+      think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both of 'em all
+      alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to make up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You ain't
+      big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the world that
+      wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n, it'd be a pair
+      o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he cross as sticks,
+      most gen'rally?&mdash;and ain't she&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about whom,
+      she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+      slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it&mdash;so they
+      WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some&mdash;Miss
+      Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+      her face was very thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+      great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her visits
+      were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her there&mdash;he
+      sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was there, he seemed
+      scarcely any the happier for her presence&mdash;at least, so Pollyanna
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+      beautiful things&mdash;books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+      audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+      and &ldquo;regulatings&rdquo; of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+      indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+      talked, Pollyanna liked to talk&mdash;but she was never sure that she
+      would not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white,
+      hurt look that always pained her; and she was never sure which&mdash;if
+      any&mdash;of her words had brought it there. As for telling him the &ldquo;glad
+      game,&rdquo; and trying to get him to play it&mdash;Pollyanna had never seen the
+      time yet when she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice
+      tried to tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of
+      what her father had said&mdash;John Pendleton had on each occasion turned
+      the conversation abruptly to another subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+      one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart, she
+      wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her mind&mdash;miserably
+      lonely lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked to Mr.
+      Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely, sometimes
+      irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually stern lips.
+      She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton&mdash;or rather, she tried to
+      talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly would not
+      listen&mdash;long. She always found something else to talk about. She
+      frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of others&mdash;of
+      Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to the fact that
+      it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor with the rose
+      in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders. Aunt Polly,
+      indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as Pollyanna found
+      out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,&rdquo; Aunt Polly
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,&rdquo; gurgled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I'd love to
+      have Dr. Chilton come to see me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,&rdquo; Miss Polly said sternly. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren&mdash;if
+      you are worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, too,&rdquo; Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. &ldquo;Of
+      course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better, and
+      I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't really
+      to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed you up
+      so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she finished wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr. Chilton&mdash;or
+      his feelings,&rdquo; reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes; then
+      she sighed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+      but I would so like to fix your hair. If&mdash;Why, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; But her
+      aunt was already out of sight down the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+      call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and green
+      edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped short in
+      awed delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow&mdash;a real rainbow come in to
+      pay you a visit!&rdquo; she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly. &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh,
+      how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+      sorts with the world this morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+      thermometer in the window,&rdquo; he said wearily. &ldquo;The sun shouldn't strike it
+      at all but it does in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that? My!
+      if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,&rdquo; laughed the man.
+      &ldquo;How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was, if
+      the thermometer hung in the sun all day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't care,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+      brilliant band of colors across the pillow. &ldquo;Just as if anybody'd care
+      when they were living all the time in a rainbow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little curiously.
+      Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nora,&rdquo; he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, &ldquo;bring me one
+      of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute she
+      had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she advanced
+      wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants encircling the
+      old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,&rdquo; directed the man. &ldquo;Now get
+      a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window there.
+      Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight across the
+      window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,&rdquo; he said, when she
+      had carried out his directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+      pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by side,
+      on the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+      Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow&mdash;I
+      don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+      before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+      then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up the
+      rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a low
+      cry of delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had become a fairyland&mdash;that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+      Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange, gold and
+      blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed itself, were
+      aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+      &ldquo;I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't you?&rdquo;
+       she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not know
+      what she was talking about. &ldquo;Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those things!
+      How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow and&mdash;lots
+      of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think even Aunt
+      Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she lived in a
+      rainbow like that. Don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+      think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight to&mdash;to
+      make her bang many doors&mdash;for gladness. But come, now, really, what
+      do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you tell me, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from the
+      very first&mdash;from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+      talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+      dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that's all,&rdquo; she sighed, when she had finished. &ldquo;And now you know why
+      I said the sun was trying to play it&mdash;that game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+      unsteadily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+      yourself, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+      shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you?&rdquo; smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+      wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: &ldquo;I'm afraid,
+      Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me. Aunt
+      Polly says it DOES make them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh had
+      sounded almost like a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+      that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+      happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+      certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They were
+      soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna confessed
+      that going to school WAS living, after all&mdash;though she had had her
+      doubts before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her old
+      friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of course;
+      but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton, of them
+      all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?&rdquo; he
+      asked, a little impatiently. &ldquo;I don't see anything of you, nowadays.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed&mdash;Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made a wry face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+      yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll be on
+      my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps around,&rdquo;
+       he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and shaking it
+      playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great library
+      to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you are,&rdquo;
+       pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire. &ldquo;You know
+      you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton&mdash;you know you
+      don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's why I want you, little girl&mdash;to help me play it. Will you
+      come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do. I want you. Will you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't&mdash;you know I can't. Why, I'm&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're no more hers than&mdash;Perhaps she would let you come to me,&rdquo; he
+      finished more gently. &ldquo;Would you come&mdash;if she did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly has been so&mdash;good to me,&rdquo; she began slowly; &ldquo;and she
+      took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time, when
+      he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+      her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in our
+      home all the long years to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+      that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been a
+      house&mdash;never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+      presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+      you come, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you&mdash;you mean that you wish you&mdash;you had had
+      that woman's hand and heart all this time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,&rdquo; sighed the little girl. &ldquo;Now you
+      can take us both, and everything will be lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;you&mdash;both?&rdquo; repeated the man, dazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will be
+      if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly come&mdash;HERE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you rather go THERE?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Of course the house isn't quite
+      so pretty, but it's nearer&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?&rdquo; asked the man, very gently now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, about where we're going to live, of course,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, in
+      obvious surprise. &ldquo;I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it was
+      here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years to
+      make a home, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+      began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at his
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor, sir,&rdquo; said the maid in the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you&mdash;yet,&rdquo;
+       he begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her yourself!&rdquo;
+       she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what's up?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on his
+      patient's galloping pulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Overdose of your&mdash;tonic, I guess,&rdquo; he laughed, as he noted the
+      doctor's eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+      Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+      planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook her
+      in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he suggested. &ldquo;I want to
+      speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to tell you,&rdquo;
+       he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton sent
+      a special request for you to go to see him this afternoon, SURE. He says
+      it's very important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,&rdquo; he declared, his eyes
+      twinkling. &ldquo;You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+      lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it wasn't me, truly&mdash;not really, you know; not so much as it was
+      Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned with a quick start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your&mdash;aunt!&rdquo; he ejaculated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know. I&mdash;I'm
+      going to tell you,&rdquo; she burst out, with sudden decision. &ldquo;He said not to
+      mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He meant not to
+      mention it to HER.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HER?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself instead
+      of having me do it&mdash;lovers, so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&rdquo; As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as if
+      the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, happily. &ldquo;That's the story-part, you see. I
+      didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+      ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+      found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to his
+      lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! No; I&mdash;didn't know,&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hurried on&mdash;they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked me to
+      come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly like
+      that&mdash;after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about the
+      woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+      wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up the
+      quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both
+      go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course Aunt Polly
+      doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I suppose that
+      is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does&mdash;want to see
+      you, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's Aunt Polly now in the window,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+      later: &ldquo;Why, no, she isn't&mdash;but I thought I saw her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she isn't there&mdash;now,&rdquo; said the doctor, His lips had suddenly
+      lost their smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+      afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once. &ldquo;I've been trying all night to puzzle out
+      what you meant by all that, yesterday&mdash;about my wanting your Aunt
+      Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you still
+      felt that way now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&mdash;your Aunt Polly and I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man gave a short little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy&mdash;didn't
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you&mdash;weren't lovers?&rdquo; Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;I'd have been so glad to come&mdash;with Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you won't&mdash;now?&rdquo; The man asked the question without turning his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were&mdash;your mother's. And&mdash;it
+      was your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+      that I do&mdash;now.&rdquo; John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He was
+      speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and frightened,
+      and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. &ldquo;I loved your mother; but
+      she&mdash;didn't love me. And after a time she went away with&mdash;your
+      father. I did not know until then how much I did&mdash;care. The whole
+      world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and&mdash;But, never
+      mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable, unloved old
+      man&mdash;though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, One day, like
+      one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my
+      life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the purple and gold
+      and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out, after a time, who
+      you were, and&mdash;and I thought then I never wanted to see you again. I
+      didn't want to be reminded of&mdash;your mother. But&mdash;you know how
+      that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you always.
+      Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;There's Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were
+      blurred with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made an impatient gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about anything&mdash;without
+      you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that I've been even half
+      glad to live! But if I had you for my own little girl, I'd be glad for&mdash;anything;
+      and I'd try to make you glad, too, my dear. You shouldn't have a wish
+      ungratified. All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me&mdash;all that money
+      you've saved for the heathen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna was
+      still talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me to
+      make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving them
+      things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look at those
+      prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her
+      birthday, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes&mdash;never mind about all that,&rdquo; interrupted the man. His face
+      was very, very red now&mdash;and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for
+      &ldquo;giving things&rdquo; that John Pendleton had been best known in the past.
+      &ldquo;That's all nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow&mdash;but what there was, was
+      because of you. YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,&rdquo; he repeated,
+      in answer to the shocked denial in her face. &ldquo;And that only goes to prove
+      all the more how I need you, little girl,&rdquo; he added, his voice softening
+      into tender pleading once more. &ldquo;If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad
+      game,' Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly has been so good to me,&rdquo; she began; but the man interrupted
+      her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+      which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's nature
+      too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll warrant,
+      half so much as I do,&rdquo; he contested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. &ldquo;I'll
+      wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad&mdash;for anything! Oh, she
+      does her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience
+      with her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of
+      friends for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one
+      knows her&mdash;and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know
+      how to be. As for your coming to me&mdash;you just ask her and see if she
+      won't let you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!&rdquo; he
+      finished brokenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll ask her,&rdquo; she said wistfully. &ldquo;Of course I don't mean
+      that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but&mdash;&rdquo; She
+      did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+      added: &ldquo;Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;&mdash;'cause
+      then I supposed SHE was wanted, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention it&mdash;yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't&mdash;only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor!&rdquo; cried John Pendleton, turning quickly. &ldquo;Not&mdash;Dr.&mdash;Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; muttered the man, falling back in his chair.
+      Then he sat up with sudden interest. &ldquo;And what did Dr. Chilton say?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+      imagine you did want to see me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did he, indeed!&rdquo; answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered why
+      he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching thunder
+      shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendleton's house.
+      Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that time, however, the
+      clouds had shifted their position and the shower was not so imminent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,&rdquo; announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+      critically. &ldquo;I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+      come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she?&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter notice what I said,&rdquo; she observed aggrievedly. &ldquo;I said
+      yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so soon
+      to ask her aunt. &ldquo;I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm glad,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. &ldquo;I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the way
+      to play the game&mdash;to be glad for things like that!&rdquo; she objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There wa'n't no game in it,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;Never thought of it. YOU
+      don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+      child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it means worried&mdash;and worried is horrid&mdash;to feel,&rdquo;
+       maintained Pollyanna. &ldquo;What else can it mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy tossed her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+      somewheres near human&mdash;like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+      duty by ye all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy,&rdquo; demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, &ldquo;Aunt Polly always does
+      her duty. She&mdash;she's a very dutiful woman!&rdquo; Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're right she is&mdash;and she always was, I guess! But she's
+      somethin' more, now, since you came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;Do you
+      think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind&mdash;if if I
+      wasn't here any more?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+      expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded it.
+      She had wondered how she should answer it&mdash;how she could answer it
+      honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in the face
+      of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the afternoon's
+      umbrella-sending&mdash;Nancy only welcomed the question with open arms.
+      She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set the
+      love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?&rdquo; cried
+      Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+      Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+      cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+      you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+      remember how at first she hated ter have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,&rdquo; rushed on
+      Nancy, breathlessly. &ldquo;It's little ways she has, that shows how you've been
+      softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down&mdash;the cat, and the dog, and
+      the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+      there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye&mdash;if ye wa'n't here,&rdquo;
+       finished Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to
+      hide the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was
+      not quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad&mdash;glad&mdash;glad! You don't know how glad I
+      am that Aunt Polly&mdash;wants me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I'd leave her now!&rdquo; thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs to
+      her room a little later. &ldquo;I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt Polly&mdash;but
+      I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt Polly&mdash;to
+      want to live with ME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an easy
+      one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+      Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him&mdash;because he seemed to be so
+      sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that had
+      made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of her
+      mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great gray
+      house as it would be after its master was well again, with its silent
+      rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart ached for
+      his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be found who&mdash;And
+      it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a little cry of joy
+      at the thought that had come to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+      Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+      library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+      hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog at
+      his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of my
+      life?&rdquo; asked the man, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+      thing for you to do, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With&mdash;YOU?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern
+      at the corners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!&rdquo; interrupted a voice deep with
+      emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she REFUSE&mdash;to let you&mdash;come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I didn't ask her,&rdquo; stammered the little girl, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved gaze
+      of her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you didn't even ask her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't, sir&mdash;truly,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. &ldquo;You see, I found out&mdash;without
+      asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and&mdash;and I want to stay, too,&rdquo;
+       she confessed bravely. &ldquo;You don't know how good she's been to me; and&mdash;and
+      I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad about things&mdash;lots
+      of things. And you know she never used to be. You said it yourself. Oh,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+      broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her&mdash;now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      won't ask you&mdash;again.&rdquo; The last word was so low it was almost
+      inaudible; but Pollyanna heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,&rdquo; she reminded him eagerly.
+      &ldquo;There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do&mdash;truly there is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not for me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a&mdash;a woman's hand and
+      heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for you&mdash;a
+      child's presence;&mdash;not me, you know, but another one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I would have any but you!&rdquo; resented an indignant voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will&mdash;when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of
+      the prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the
+      heathen, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; interrupted the man, savagely. &ldquo;Once for all let us end that
+      nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There is no
+      money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life. There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected&mdash;the
+      grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+      there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There was
+      only surprised joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh!&rdquo; she cried, clapping her hands. &ldquo;I'm so glad! That is,&rdquo; she
+      corrected, coloring distressfully, &ldquo;I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+      the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want the
+      little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm glad
+      you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;WHO?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+      to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+      wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now&mdash;when he hears
+      of this&mdash;he'll be so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will he? Well, I won't,&rdquo; ejaculated the man, decisively. &ldquo;Pollyanna, this
+      is sheer nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;you won't take him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly do mean just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he'd be a lovely child's presence,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. She was
+      almost crying now. &ldquo;And you COULDN'T be lonesome&mdash;with Jimmy 'round.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined the man; &ldquo;but&mdash;I think I prefer the
+      lonesomeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+      remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+      aggrievedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+      dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SKELETON?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what&mdash;&rdquo; Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+      laughed very heartily indeed&mdash;so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+      from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+      promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I suspect you are right&mdash;more right than you know,&rdquo; he
+      said gently. &ldquo;In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+      better than&mdash;my skeleton in the closet; only&mdash;we aren't always
+      willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to&mdash;our
+      skeletons, Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about
+      this nice little boy.&rdquo; And Pollyanna told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+      story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+      strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night she
+      carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the great
+      house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as she
+      said good-by. &ldquo;I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home&mdash;and folks that
+      care, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+      Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+      that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+      His children of men had wrought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+      conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse; until
+      it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+      wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+      rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had prayed&mdash;earnestly,
+      hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own that matters were no
+      better, but rather worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something that only
+      endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most energetic
+      women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society because a tiny
+      spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a devouring flame
+      of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo work given to a
+      fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor Society was in a
+      ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its officers. As to
+      the Sunday school&mdash;it had been the resignation of its superintendent
+      and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and that had sent
+      the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and meditation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+      squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done&mdash;and
+      done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+      Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+      the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True, a
+      few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+      purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+      of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+      to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+      (God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+      suffering; and must suffer still more unless&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+      next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled into
+      stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on which he
+      had determined to speak:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the
+      kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, neither
+      suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows'
+      houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive
+      the greater damnation.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+      mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+      law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+      leave the other undone.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+      minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+      squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+      vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+      should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His people!&mdash;they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it?
+      Dare he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words
+      that would follow&mdash;his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had
+      pleaded earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed&mdash;oh, how
+      earnestly he longed!&mdash;to take now, in this crisis, the right step.
+      But was this&mdash;the right step?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+      pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down at
+      the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+      found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You&mdash;YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or&mdash;or
+      anything, have you?&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear&mdash;no, indeed! I'm just&mdash;resting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. &ldquo;That's all right, then.
+      You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him&mdash;but he
+      was lying down, though. And you are sitting up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything&mdash;that doctors
+      can mend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+      crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what you mean&mdash;something plagues you. Father used to feel
+      like that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do&mdash;most generally. You
+      see there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+      Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+      don't know all the family histories.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;I mean, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+      tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled some
+      papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at them.
+      He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance away&mdash;and
+      it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead. Pollyanna, looking
+      at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&mdash;it's a nice day,&rdquo; she began hopefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+      start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Oh!&mdash;yes, it is a very nice day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,&rdquo; observed
+      Pollyanna, still more hopefully. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said he
+      didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires, don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+      she tried again&mdash;by a new route.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do You like being a minister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I like&mdash;Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+      used to look like that&mdash;sometimes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+      the dried leaf on the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+      minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;what did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too, that
+      he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing texts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;WHAT?&rdquo; The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+      wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's what father used to call 'em,&rdquo; she laughed. &ldquo;Of course the
+      Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in the
+      Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that, you know&mdash;such
+      a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he counted 'em. There
+      were eight hundred of 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eight hundred!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why
+      father named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen to
+      the words on the top paper in his hands&mdash;&ldquo;But woe unto you, scribes
+      and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; &ldquo;And so your father&mdash;liked those
+      'rejoicing texts,'&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. &ldquo;He said he felt better right
+      away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+      trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+      want us to do it&mdash;SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done
+      it more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+      things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight&mdash;I mean, when
+      they DIDN'T AGREE about something,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Why, it
+      was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the game&mdash;he
+      began with ME on the crutches&mdash;but he said 'twas the rejoicing texts
+      that started him on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what game might that be?&rdquo; asked the minister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As I
+      said, he began with me on the crutches.&rdquo; And once more Pollyanna told her
+      story&mdash;this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+      understanding ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+      hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+      been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+      about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister wanted
+      to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+      and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking. Near
+      him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper&mdash;his sermon notes.
+      Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper, blank&mdash;his
+      sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of what he had
+      written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination he was far
+      away in a little Western town with a missionary minister who was poor,
+      sick, worried, and almost alone in the world&mdash;but who was poring over
+      the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had told him to
+      &ldquo;rejoice and be glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+      back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23,&rdquo; he wrote; then, with a gesture
+      of impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+      on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+      turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to fill
+      his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to go and
+      bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went. Why?
+      Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to do the
+      right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said to your
+      mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill that
+      woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as Tom was
+      concerned!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On and on read the minister&mdash;a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+      somewhere else:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting powers
+      should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always harping on a
+      man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of
+      bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL self that can dare
+      and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful
+      character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town.... People
+      radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a man feels kindly
+      and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too, before long. But if
+      he scolds and scowls and criticizes&mdash;his neighbors will return scowl
+      for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for the bad, expecting it,
+      you will get it. When you know you will find the good&mdash;you will get
+      that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox&mdash;then
+      watch him start, alert and interested!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was on
+      his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth. Later,
+      some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in the chair
+      at his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God helping me, I'll do it!&rdquo; he cried softly. &ldquo;I'll tell all my Toms I
+      KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do, and
+      I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't have
+      TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!&rdquo; And he picked up his sermon
+      notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that
+      on one side of his chair lay &ldquo;But woe unto you,&rdquo; and on the other,
+      &ldquo;scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; while across the smooth white paper
+      before him his pencil fairly flew&mdash;after first drawing one black line
+      through Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was a
+      veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and child
+      that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+      that are upright in heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office to
+      get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it chanced,
+      Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?&rdquo; she
+      said, looking interestedly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;such as 'tis,&rdquo; he answered, as he wrote something on the pad of
+      paper in his hand; &ldquo;but it's a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna.
+      They're just rooms, that's all&mdash;not a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+      understanding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make
+      a home,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again; &ldquo;about the woman's hand
+      and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a woman's
+      hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean&mdash;if Mr.
+      Pendleton doesn't want him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+      does he?&rdquo; he asked evasively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't I&mdash;what?&rdquo; The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh&mdash;and I forgot.&rdquo; Pollyanna's face
+      showed suddenly a painful color. &ldquo;I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn't
+      Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we&mdash;we aren't
+      going there to live. You see, I told you it was&mdash;but I made a
+      mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,&rdquo; she finished anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,&rdquo; replied the doctor, a little
+      queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna in relief. &ldquo;You see you're
+      the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when
+      I said I'd told YOU.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The doctor's lips twitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it&mdash;when
+      'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+      Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're not always to be had&mdash;for the asking, little girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you could get 'em,&rdquo; she argued. The flattering
+      emphasis was unmistakable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+      again: &ldquo;I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite so&mdash;confident.
+      At least, they&mdash;they haven't shown themselves to be so&mdash;obliging,&rdquo;
+       he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean&mdash;you didn't try to get somebody's
+      hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;and couldn't, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+      people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs.
+      Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how
+      she is to take it. Was there anything else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sir; thank you, Sir,&rdquo; she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the
+      door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight:
+      &ldquo;Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you wanted and
+      couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+      hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance
+      in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was there
+      any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it
+      did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp and
+      unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a
+      white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and
+      put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr.
+      Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,&rdquo; Nancy was sobbing
+      to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in
+      the hushed room; &ldquo;ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face ter
+      see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and
+      yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death
+      himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they don't, they don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she hurt&mdash;bad?&rdquo; The old man's voice shook.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't no tellin',&rdquo; sobbed Nancy. &ldquo;She lay back that white an' still
+      she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead&mdash;an' Miss
+      Polly had oughter know, if any one would&mdash;she kept up such a
+      listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?&mdash;that&mdash;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Old Tom's face worked convulsively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an' strong,
+      too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I always
+      hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow&mdash;I did, I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where is she hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy. &ldquo;There's a little cut on her
+      blessed head, but 'tain't bad&mdash;that ain't&mdash;Miss Polly says. She
+      says she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you mean internally, Nancy,&rdquo; he said dryly. &ldquo;She's hurt
+      infernally, all right&mdash;plague take that autymobile!&mdash;but I don't
+      guess Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy, with a shake of her
+      head as she turned away. &ldquo;Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it till that
+      doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do&mdash;the biggest
+      washin' I ever see, I do, I do!&rdquo; she wailed, wringing her hands
+      helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+      Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+      cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+      shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he
+      had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking
+      than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at
+      present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A
+      trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all.
+      And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+      eyes and realized where she was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+      up?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,&rdquo; she moaned, falling
+      back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear, I wouldn't try&mdash;just yet,&rdquo; soothed her aunt quickly, but
+      very quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+      woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young woman nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell her,&rdquo; the lips said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+      scarcely let her speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+      now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, yes; I&mdash;I ran.&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted
+      her hand to her forehead. &ldquo;Why, it's&mdash;done up, and it&mdash;hurts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; but never mind. Just&mdash;just rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so&mdash;so
+      queer&mdash;only they don't FEEL&mdash;at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to her
+      feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me talk to you now,&rdquo; she began cheerily. &ldquo;I'm sure I
+      think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+      introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+      care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+      swallow these little white pills for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I don't want to be taken care of&mdash;that is, not for long! I want
+      to get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow?&rdquo; smiled the nurse, brightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But
+      just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what THEY'LL
+      do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; &ldquo;but I MUST go to
+      school day after to-morrow&mdash;there are examinations then, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+      automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+      into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she had
+      swallowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not go to school &ldquo;to-morrow,&rdquo; nor the &ldquo;day after to-morrow.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily when a brief
+      period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to her lips.
+      Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly until a week had
+      passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened somewhat, and her mind
+      awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be told all over again what
+      had occurred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,&rdquo; she sighed at last. &ldquo;Well, I'm
+      glad of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G-glad, Pollyanna?&rdquo; asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+      life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+      lifelong-invalids don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly&mdash;who had said nothing whatever about broken legs&mdash;got
+      suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+      room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+      down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her face
+      was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+      ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,&rdquo; she murmured contentedly.
+      &ldquo;That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't whooping cough&mdash;I've
+      had that, and it's horrid&mdash;and I'm glad 'tisn't appendicitis nor
+      measles, 'cause they're catching&mdash;measles are, I mean&mdash;and they
+      wouldn't let you stay here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to&mdash;to be glad for a good many things, my dear,&rdquo; faltered
+      Aunt Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. I've been thinking of 'em&mdash;lots of 'em&mdash;all the time I've
+      been looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr.
+      Pendleton gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said
+      yet. I don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+      &ldquo;Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+      times&mdash;and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'&mdash;by
+      folks that belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me
+      that; and of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had
+      belonged to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes were
+      full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room through
+      the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+      harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;You couldn't guess
+      in a thousand years&mdash;you couldn't, you couldn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I cal'late I won't try,&rdquo; retorted the man, grimly, &ldquo;specially as I
+      hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+      first off, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+      mistress? Who, I say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no tellin',&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's&mdash;John Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much I am&mdash;an' me a-lettin' him in myself&mdash;crutches an'
+      all! An' the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him,
+      jest as if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter
+      no one! jest think, Mr. Tom&mdash;HIM a-callin' on HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if you didn't know better'n me!&rdquo; she derided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you needn't be so innercent,&rdquo; she retorted with mock indignation; &ldquo;&mdash;you
+      what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do ye mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a step
+      nearer to the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the first
+      place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and I puts
+      'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five&mdash;an' no
+      four at all, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse sense,&rdquo;
+       he declared testily. &ldquo;I never was no hand for figgers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's this,&rdquo; she explained. &ldquo;I heard somethin' that made me think
+      him an' Miss Polly was lovers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MR. PENDLETON!&rdquo; Old Tom straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he was
+      in love with, and that's why he wanted&mdash;but never mind that part,&rdquo;
+       she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna not
+      to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+      &ldquo;Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+      that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's been
+      hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their names
+      tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom. &ldquo;It was three or four years after Miss
+      Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss Polly
+      knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter be nice
+      to him. Maybe she overdid it a little&mdash;she hated that minister chap
+      so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter make
+      trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Runnin' after any man&mdash;her!&rdquo; interjected Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it; but they did,&rdquo; declared Old Tom, &ldquo;and of course no gal of any
+      spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an' the
+      trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't have
+      nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to turn
+      bitter at the core.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy; &ldquo;an' that's why
+      you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the door&mdash;him,
+      what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went an' told
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did she say?&rdquo; Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin'&mdash;at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and
+      I was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+      Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+      out here an' told you,&rdquo; finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+      toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the ceremonious &ldquo;parlor&rdquo; of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+      Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of Miss
+      Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+      remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was coldly
+      reserved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called to ask for&mdash;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once, a little
+      brusquely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. She is about the same,&rdquo; said Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is&mdash;won't you tell me HOW she is?&rdquo; His voice was not quite
+      steady this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't, I wish I could!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;you don't know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;the doctor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren himself seems&mdash;at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+      New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but what WERE her injuries that you do know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and&mdash;and an injury to
+      the spine which has seemed to cause&mdash;paralysis from the hips down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily, he
+      asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Pollyanna&mdash;how does she&mdash;take it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She doesn't understand&mdash;at all&mdash;how things really are. And I
+      CAN'T tell her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she must know&mdash;something!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture that
+      had become so common to her of late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She knows she can't&mdash;move; but she thinks her legs are&mdash;broken.
+      She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+      'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+      the other&mdash;doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it&mdash;it
+      seems as if I should&mdash;die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+      opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back to
+      what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her presence:
+      &ldquo;Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+      control his voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get Pollyanna
+      to come and live with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With YOU!&mdash;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+      still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I wanted to adopt her&mdash;legally, you understand; making her my
+      heir, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to her,
+      suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for Pollyanna&mdash;this
+      adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough and mercenary
+      enough&mdash;to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very fond of Pollyanna,&rdquo; the man was continuing. &ldquo;I am fond of her
+      both for her own sake, and for&mdash;her mother's. I stood ready to give
+      Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;LOVE.&rdquo; Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child in the
+      first place&mdash;and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+      Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: &ldquo;I love to be called
+      'dear' by folks that belong to you!&rdquo; And it was this love-hungry little
+      girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five years:&mdash;and
+      she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking heart Miss Polly
+      realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized something else: the
+      dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that vibrated
+      through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not come,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She wanted
+      to stay with you&mdash;and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to stay,&rdquo;
+       he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+      the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+      shaking hand thrust toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the specialist comes, and I know anything&mdash;definite about
+      Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,&rdquo; said a trembling voice. &ldquo;Good-by&mdash;and
+      thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+      Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of the
+      specialist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, my dear,&rdquo; she began gently, &ldquo;we have decided that we want
+      another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+      something new to do&mdash;to help you get well faster, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've wanted
+      him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his seeing
+      you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+      anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+      But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+      speak lightly and cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+      doctor&mdash;a very famous doctor from New York, who&mdash;who knows a
+      great deal about&mdash;about hurts like yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg, Aunt
+      Polly. If&mdash;if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+      Chilton&mdash;truly I would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+      speak at all; then she said gently&mdash;though yet with a touch of her
+      old stern decisiveness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything&mdash;almost
+      anything for you, my dear; but I&mdash;for reasons which I do not care to
+      speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on&mdash;on this case.
+      And believe me, he can NOT know so much about&mdash;about your trouble, as
+      this great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT, Pollyanna?&rdquo; Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks were
+      very red, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, &ldquo;seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+      would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her feet
+      abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but I'm afraid
+      you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's already
+      arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come &ldquo;to-morrow.&rdquo; At
+      the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to the
+      sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+      renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton&mdash;&ldquo;which would be
+      so easy now, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said &ldquo;no, dear,&rdquo; very
+      decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+      anything&mdash;anything but that&mdash;to please her dear Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+      Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+      niece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't 'a' believed it&mdash;you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,&rdquo;
+       Nancy said to Old Tom one morning. &ldquo;There don't seem ter be a minute in
+      the day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+      for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat&mdash;an'
+      her what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+      ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+      Miss Pollyanna!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+      danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make the
+      'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy down
+      ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers&mdash;an' that besides
+      all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I didn't
+      find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her hair, an'
+      Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes all shinin'
+      an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't wore her hair
+      like that every day now&mdash;jest ter please that blessed child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the worse&mdash;for
+      wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,&rdquo; he observed dryly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Course she ain't,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;She looks like FOLKS,
+      now. She's actually almost&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keerful, now, Nancy!&rdquo; interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. &ldquo;You
+      know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look like
+      the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss Pollyanna
+      makes her wear 'round her neck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded the man. &ldquo;I told ye she wa'n't&mdash;old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it&mdash;as
+      she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+      lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hain't ye?&rdquo; asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. &ldquo;Well, I
+      guess ye won't then from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,&rdquo; wheedled the girl. &ldquo;Ye see, there ain't many
+      folks here that I CAN ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',&rdquo; grinned Old
+      Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. &ldquo;How is she, ter-day&mdash;the
+      little gal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can see&mdash;or
+      anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some, an' tries
+      ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises, or some
+      other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with achin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; it's the 'game'&mdash;bless her sweet heart!&rdquo; nodded Old Tom,
+      blinking a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She told me long ago.&rdquo; The old man hesitated, then went on, his
+      lips twitching a little. &ldquo;I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so bent up
+      and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT ter
+      be glad about!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+      SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find somethin'.
+      We've been playin' it&mdash;that game&mdash;since almost the first, 'cause
+      there wa'n't no one else she could play it with&mdash;though she did speak
+      of&mdash;her aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MISS POLLY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+      than I have,&rdquo; she bridled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom stiffened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was only thinkin' 'twould be&mdash;some of a surprise&mdash;to her,&rdquo; he
+      explained with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, I guess 'twould be&mdash;THEN,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;I ain't
+      sayin' what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now&mdash;even
+      that she'd take ter playin' it herself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But hain't the little gal told her&mdash;ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+      I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,&rdquo; said
+      Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy. &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna told
+      me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+      have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+      have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I see, I see.&rdquo; The old man nodded his head slowly. &ldquo;They was always
+      bitter against the minister chap&mdash;all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss
+      Jennie away from 'em. An' Miss Polly&mdash;young as she was&mdash;couldn't
+      never forgive him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie&mdash;in them days. I
+      see, I see. 'Twas a bad mess,&rdquo; he sighed, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, 'twas&mdash;all 'round, all 'round,&rdquo; sighed Nancy in her turn, as
+      she went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+      cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+      impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+      about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide the
+      fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna&mdash;Pollyanna
+      petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers and ate
+      the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned innumerable
+      cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that were brought
+      to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the nervous activity
+      of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the pitiful
+      motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying so
+      woefully quiet under the blankets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the game&mdash;Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was
+      going to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to
+      call on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+      realize that all this &ldquo;gladness&rdquo; was in the future, not the present.
+      Nancy, however, did realize it&mdash;and cry about it, when she was alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected, he
+      came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+      cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,&rdquo; she added engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOUR doctor?&rdquo; Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren, talking
+      with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small, brown-eyed man
+      with a pointed brown beard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+      who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+      &ldquo;You see, <i>I</i> wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+      you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about&mdash;about
+      broken legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      translate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only time can tell that, little girl,&rdquo; he said gently; then he turned a
+      grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly, if
+      Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+      unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+      hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+      open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+      Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+      &ldquo;meow&rdquo; of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply Aunt
+      Polly's agonized exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean&mdash;the child&mdash;will
+      NEVER WALK again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+      terrified &ldquo;Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Then Miss Polly, seeing the open door
+      and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan and&mdash;for
+      the first time in her life&mdash;fainted dead away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse, with a choking &ldquo;She heard!&rdquo; stumbled toward the open door. The
+      two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay&mdash;he had
+      caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was not
+      until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the door,
+      that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes, awoke
+      to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to
+      unhappy consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the bed
+      vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed little
+      girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+      please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+      pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&mdash;she can't come just this minute, dear. She will&mdash;a little
+      later. What is it? Can't I&mdash;get it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I want to know what she said&mdash;just now. Did you hear her? I want
+      Aunt Polly&mdash;she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't true&mdash;'tisn't
+      true!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent an
+      added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+      mean I can't ever&mdash;walk again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear&mdash;don't, don't!&rdquo; choked the nurse. &ldquo;Perhaps he
+      didn't know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could
+      happen, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody else
+      about&mdash;about broken legs like mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes. Just&mdash;just
+      don't think any more about it now&mdash;please don't, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. &ldquo;But I can't help thinking about it,&rdquo;
+       she sobbed. &ldquo;It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt, how am
+      I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or&mdash;or
+      anybody?&rdquo; She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+      she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss Hunt, if I
+      can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for&mdash;ANYTHING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not know &ldquo;the game;&rdquo; but she did know that her patient must
+      be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+      heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+      with the quieting powder ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear, just take this,&rdquo; she soothed; &ldquo;and by and by we'll be
+      more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half as
+      bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+      glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; that sounds like things father used to say,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna,
+      blinking off the tears. &ldquo;He said there was always something about
+      everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard he
+      couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+      that, that could be worse&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+      verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+      information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she felt
+      to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then to send
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+      extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and its
+      master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything. She
+      scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few minutes, she
+      waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, sir,&rdquo; she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+      questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. &ldquo;Miss Harrington sent
+      me to tell you about&mdash;Miss Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+      anxiety that lay behind that short &ldquo;well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; she choked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. He says&mdash;she can't walk again&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+      in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl! Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+      that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+      he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems cruel&mdash;never to dance in the sunshine again! My little
+      prism girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She herself doesn't know yet&mdash;of course&mdash;does she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she does, sir.&rdquo; sobbed Nancy, &ldquo;an' that's what makes it all the
+      harder. She found out&mdash;drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,&rdquo; apologized
+      the girl, hurriedly. &ldquo;It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+      Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out&mdash;that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo; sighed the man again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,&rdquo; choked Nancy. &ldquo;I
+      hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up both
+      times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps thinkin' all
+      the time of new things she can't do&mdash;NOW. It worries her, too, 'cause
+      she can't seem ter be glad&mdash;maybe you don't know about her game,
+      though,&rdquo; broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The 'glad game'?&rdquo; asked the man. &ldquo;Oh, yes; she told me of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks. But
+      ye see, now she&mdash;she can't play it herself, an' it worries her. She
+      says she can't think of a thing&mdash;not a thing about this not walkin'
+      again, ter be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why should she?&rdquo; retorted the man, almost savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the way I felt, too&mdash;till I happened ter think&mdash;it WOULD
+      be easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to&mdash;to
+      remind her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To remind her! Of what?&rdquo; John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+      impatient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of&mdash;of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+      know&mdash;and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb
+      just cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy
+      ter TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing
+      when you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+      says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+      folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+      really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+      nicer ter play when&mdash;when it was hard,&rdquo; resumed Nancy, in a dull
+      voice. &ldquo;But she says that, too, is diff'rent&mdash;when it really IS hard.
+      An' I must be goin', now, sir,&rdquo; she broke off abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that&mdash;that you'd seen Jimmy
+      Bean again, I s'pose, sir, could I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see how you could&mdash;as I haven't seen him,&rdquo; observed the man
+      a little shortly. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', sir, only&mdash;well, ye see, that's one of the things that she
+      was feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She
+      said she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well
+      that day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very
+      nice child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that;
+      but I didn't, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know&mdash;what she means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again, she
+      said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And now
+      she&mdash;can't&mdash;drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir.
+      Good-by!&rdquo; And Nancy fled precipitately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+      the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never walk
+      again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred. Everybody
+      knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had always a smile
+      of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the &ldquo;game&rdquo; that Pollyanna was
+      playing. To think that now never again would that smiling face be seen on
+      their streets&mdash;never again would that cheery little voice proclaim
+      the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed unbelievable,
+      impossible, cruel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+      it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+      men talked, too, and wept&mdash;though not so openly. And neither the
+      talking nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news
+      itself, came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what
+      had come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not
+      play the game; that she could not now be glad over&mdash;anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+      Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+      Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+      calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+      women, and children&mdash;many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that
+      her niece knew at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+      awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+      to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+      tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+      their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+      injured girl; and all sent to her some message&mdash;and it was these
+      messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,&rdquo; he began almost harshly. &ldquo;But
+      can&mdash;nothing be done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+      treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying them
+      out to the letter, of course. But&mdash;Dr. Mead held out almost no hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton rose abruptly&mdash;though he had but just come. His face
+      was white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+      him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+      presence. At the door he turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a message for Pollyanna,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Will you tell her, please,
+      that I have seen Jimmy Bean and&mdash;that he's going to be my boy
+      hereafter. Tell her I thought she would be&mdash;GLAD to know. I shall
+      adopt him, probably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will adopt Jimmy Bean!&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lifted his chin a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+      would be&mdash;GLAD!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;of course,&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+      looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+      believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+      Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+      supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy&mdash;and such a little boy?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has just
+      been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his little boy.
+      He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+      find a place for Jimmy&mdash;and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+      so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told her
+      aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her&mdash;and certainly she would
+      not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of leaving
+      her&mdash;this dear Aunt Polly!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The child's presence,&rdquo; stammered Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told
+      me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's presence
+      could make a&mdash;a home. And now he's got it&mdash;the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&mdash;see,&rdquo; said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see&mdash;more
+      than Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was
+      probably brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton
+      was asking HER to be the &ldquo;child's presence,&rdquo; which was to transform his
+      great pile of gray stone into a home. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she finished, her eyes
+      stinging with sudden tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing questions,
+      hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton house and its
+      master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton says so, too&mdash;that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or
+      a child's presence, to make a home, you know,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DR. CHILTON! How do you know&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know&mdash;not
+      a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I asked him why he didn't get 'em&mdash;a woman's hand and heart, and
+      have a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+      color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I did. He looked so&mdash;so sorrowful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he&mdash;say?&rdquo; Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of
+      some force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+      couldn't always get 'em for the asking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+      window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said that
+      low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world if he did
+      have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter?&rdquo; Aunt
+      Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,&rdquo; said Aunt
+      Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow called
+      one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+      homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I came to inquire for the little girl,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?&rdquo; rejoined
+      Miss Polly, wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I came to tell you&mdash;that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+      Pollyanna,&rdquo; hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. &ldquo;We think
+      it's&mdash;so awful&mdash;so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+      ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too&mdash;for mother,
+      you know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard
+      how now she couldn't play it herself&mdash;poor little dear! I'm sure I
+      don't see how she CAN, either, in her condition!&mdash;but when we
+      remembered all the things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only
+      know what she HAD done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own
+      case, about the game, because she could be glad&mdash;that is, a little
+      glad&mdash;&rdquo; Milly stopped helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss
+      Polly to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+      her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+      was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was &ldquo;queer,&rdquo;
+       but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+      she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words. When
+      the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want me
+      to tell my niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,&rdquo; answered the girl, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+      because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I want
+      her to know HOW different she is&mdash;and me, too. I'm different. I've
+      been trying to play it&mdash;the game&mdash;a little.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this &ldquo;game,&rdquo;
+       but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with nervous
+      volubility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know nothing was ever right before&mdash;for mother. She was always
+      wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+      much&mdash;under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades
+      up, and she takes interest in things&mdash;how she looks, and her
+      nightdress, and all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things&mdash;reins
+      and baby blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so
+      GLAD to think she can do it!&mdash;and that was all Miss Pollyanna's
+      doings, you know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her
+      hands and arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she
+      didn't DO something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do
+      something&mdash;to knit, you know. And you can't think what a different
+      room it is now, what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the
+      prisms in the window that SHE gave her&mdash;why, it actually makes you
+      feel BETTER just to go in there now; and before I used to dread it
+      awfully, it was so dark and gloomy, and mother was so&mdash;so unhappy,
+      you know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand it's
+      all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that we
+      thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that she
+      knew us. And&mdash;and that's all,&rdquo; sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+      feet. &ldquo;You'll tell her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+      remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of many;
+      and always there were the messages&mdash;the messages which were in some
+      ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle over
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+      though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew her
+      as the saddest little woman in town&mdash;one who was always in black.
+      To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+      though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror at
+      the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later&mdash;perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+      almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her&mdash;a message,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell her, please, that&mdash;that I've put on THIS,&rdquo; she said,
+      just touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's
+      ill-concealed look of surprise, she added: &ldquo;The little girl has been
+      trying for so long to make me wear&mdash;some color, that I thought she'd
+      be&mdash;glad to know I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to
+      see it, if I would. You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Benton shook her head and turned away. &ldquo;If you'll just tell Pollyanna&mdash;SHE'LL
+      understand.&rdquo; And the door closed after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, that same day, there was the other widow&mdash;at least,
+      she wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She
+      wondered vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her
+      name as &ldquo;Mrs. Tarbell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a stranger to you, of course,&rdquo; she began at once. &ldquo;But I'm not a
+      stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+      summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was on
+      these walks that I've met your niece&mdash;she's such a dear little girl!
+      I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very sad
+      when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me of&mdash;my
+      own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear of the
+      accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never walk
+      again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any longer&mdash;the
+      dear child!&mdash;I just had to come to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is you who are to be kind,&rdquo; demurred the other. &ldquo;I&mdash;I want
+      you to give her a message from me. Will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I know
+      it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But&mdash;if you'll pardon me I'd
+      rather not explain.&rdquo; Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the smile
+      left her eyes. &ldquo;Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt that I
+      must tell&mdash;her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+      rudeness in my call,&rdquo; she begged, as she took her leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's at
+      the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean&mdash;we used to.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you&mdash;but
+      she wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+      is glad now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she say that&mdash;really? Oh, I'm so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's the game, and&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to
+      her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is&mdash;I can't tell it unless I tell
+      other things that&mdash;that I'm not to speak of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+      obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+      were uttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the shape
+      of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks and
+      abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+      jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation&mdash;but
+      whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+      homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been crying.
+      Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the little girl,
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in the
+      woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one was
+      allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was still
+      at a slightly defiant tilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Mrs. Payson&mdash;Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+      me&mdash;most of the good people in the town have&mdash;and maybe some of
+      the things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+      little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and&mdash;and it broke me
+      all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and&mdash;and
+      I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd do
+      more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred years.
+      But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can make the
+      best use of 'em, I notice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+      still husky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl of
+      yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by often&mdash;only
+      she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the kids and talked
+      to me&mdash;and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like it, and to
+      like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks don't
+      generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss Harrington,
+      there wouldn't be so many&mdash;of my kind,&rdquo; she added, with sudden
+      bitterness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+      did do us good&mdash;a lot o' good. How much she won't know&mdash;nor
+      can't know, I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things&mdash;that
+      I don't want her to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more ways
+      than one. We've been blue and discouraged&mdash;my man and me, and ready
+      for&mdash;'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+      and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the kids.
+      Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's never
+      walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and sit on our
+      doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and&mdash;and just be glad.
+      She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she told us
+      why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+      her, because she can't play it no more&mdash;that there's nothing to be
+      glad about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day&mdash;that maybe she
+      can be a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other,
+      and play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+      feel kind of bad&mdash;at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+      going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+      Anyhow, we're going to try&mdash;'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I will tell her,&rdquo; promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then, with
+      sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. &ldquo;And thank you
+      for coming, Mrs. Payson,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+      incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+      outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was confronting
+      Nancy in the kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits of
+      the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary experience
+      of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping point. Not since
+      Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress speak so sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+      seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with it?
+      WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to her
+      that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town are
+      putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to like
+      something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I tried
+      to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make much headway,
+      and of course I don't like to worry her&mdash;now. But from something I
+      heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one of them, too.
+      Now WILL you tell me what it all means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+      makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin' ter
+      make her a little glad, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad of what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just glad! That's the game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+      the eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her ter
+      play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when she was
+      wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would. It seems
+      'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin' but what
+      there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an' that she
+      could be glad about them crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad for&mdash;CRUTCHES!&rdquo; Miss Polly choked back a sob&mdash;she was
+      thinking of the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she said,
+      too. But he told her she COULD be glad&mdash;'cause she DIDN'T NEED 'EM.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; cried Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And after that she said he made a regular game of it&mdash;findin'
+      somethin' in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it,
+      too, and that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause
+      ye was so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest
+      bein' glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, how&mdash;how&mdash;&rdquo; Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,&rdquo;
+       maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. &ldquo;I wish
+      I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out home.
+      She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me glad, too,
+      on such a lot o' things&mdash;little things, an' big things; an' it's made
+      'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for a name half as
+      much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't 'Hephzibah.' An' there's
+      Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so. She's actually made me glad
+      for Monday mornin's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad&mdash;for Monday mornings!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed lamb
+      found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does she up
+      an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should think you
+      could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in the week,
+      because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another one!' An' I'm
+      blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin' since&mdash;an' it
+      HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I thought of it;
+      an' laughin' helps, ye know&mdash;it does, it does!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why hasn't&mdash;she told me&mdash;the game?&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+      &ldquo;Why has she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of&mdash;her
+      father; so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She wanted ter tell ye, first off,&rdquo; continued Nancy, a little unsteadily.
+      &ldquo;She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I begun it, so
+      she could have some one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;and&mdash;these others?&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think they
+      did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she told a
+      lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they gets
+      started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry one, an' so&mdash;so
+      jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't help knowin' it,
+      anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so bad&mdash;specially when
+      they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find anythin' ter be glad
+      about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter tell her how glad she's
+      made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see, she's always wanted ev'rybody
+      ter play the game with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know somebody who'll play it&mdash;now,&rdquo; choked Miss Polly, as
+      she turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll believe anythin'&mdash;anythin' now,&rdquo; she muttered to herself.
+      &ldquo;Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now&mdash;o' Miss
+      Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+      Pollyanna alone together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,&rdquo; announced Miss
+      Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. &ldquo;Do you remember Mrs.
+      Payson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr. Pendleton's,
+      and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three years old, and a boy
+      'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her husband&mdash;only they don't
+      seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes they fight&mdash;I mean,
+      they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say, and of course they
+      don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary minister, you know,
+      like&mdash;well, he isn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated suddenly
+      in those of her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being so
+      poor,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. &ldquo;And she's got perfectly
+      beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+      says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+      and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+      isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+      And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+      that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+      should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+      more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they aren't going 'way off, dear,&rdquo; evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+      &ldquo;They're going to stay right there together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see&mdash;O dear!&rdquo;
+       broke off the little girl, miserably. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+      that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+      Mr. Pendleton again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, don't,&rdquo; choked her aunt. &ldquo;Perhaps you'll drive up sometime.
+      But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson said. She wanted
+      me to tell you that they&mdash;they were going to stay together and to
+      play the game, just as you wanted them to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make you&mdash;GLAD,
+      Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you spoke just as if you knew&mdash;DO you
+      know about the game, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear.&rdquo; Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+      matter-of-fact. &ldquo;Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+      to play it now&mdash;with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly&mdash;YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you
+      most of anybody, all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+      time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+      all the town is playing that game now with you&mdash;even to the minister!
+      I haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+      when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just as
+      soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+      stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told
+      him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it. The whole
+      town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happier&mdash;and
+      all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game, and how
+      to play it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light illumined
+      her face. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be glad about, after
+      all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway&mdash;else I couldn't have
+      done&mdash;that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One by one the short winter days came and went&mdash;but they were not
+      short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+      resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+      toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+      that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+      to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story one day
+      about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a blown-down
+      door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did that didn't have
+      any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the other story that she
+      had heard about the poor old lady who had only two teeth, but who was so
+      glad that those two teeth &ldquo;hit&rdquo;!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of bright
+      colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the white
+      spread, and made Pollyanna&mdash;again like Mrs. Snow&mdash;so glad she
+      had her hands and arms, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+      messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+      something new to think about&mdash;and Pollyanna needed new things to
+      think about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean. John
+      Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and how
+      well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had, and
+      what bang-up &ldquo;folks&rdquo; Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it was all
+      owing to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over Pollyanna's
+      condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed treatment.
+      There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's worst fears
+      would be realized&mdash;that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+      of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into a
+      fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way to
+      procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however, and the
+      news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides anxiety
+      began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged determination,
+      each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged determination won;
+      and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise,
+      received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton,&rdquo; began the doctor, abruptly, &ldquo;I've come to you because you,
+      better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with Miss
+      Polly Harrington.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly&mdash;he
+      did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+      Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+      years, or more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+      sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+      need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+      errand to notice how that errand was received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+      MUST make an examination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;can't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+      for more than fifteen years. You don't know&mdash;but I will tell you&mdash;that
+      the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+      enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+      would be as before&mdash;which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see
+      her summoning me now&mdash;but I don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But couldn't you go&mdash;without a summons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hardly. <i>I</i> have some pride, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you're so anxious&mdash;couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+      the quarrel&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forget the quarrel!&rdquo; interrupted the doctor, savagely. &ldquo;I'm not talking
+      of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here there
+      on my knees&mdash;or on my head&mdash;if that would do any good. It's
+      PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+      doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chilton, what was the quarrel?&rdquo; demanded Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?&rdquo; he snarled,
+      pacing the room angrily. &ldquo;A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or the
+      depth of a river, maybe&mdash;it might as well be, so far as its having
+      any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+      Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+      there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+      or death. It will mean&mdash;I honestly believe&mdash;nine chances out of
+      ten that Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just as
+      the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+      Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached the
+      ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+      green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk! Pollyanna!&rdquo; John Pendleton was saying. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean that from what I can hear and learn&mdash;a mile from her bedside&mdash;that
+      her case is very much like one that a college friend of mine has just
+      helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a special study.
+      I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way. And from what I
+      hear&mdash;but I want to SEE the girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must see her, man! Couldn't you&mdash;say, through Dr. Warren?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me himself
+      that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but&mdash;Miss
+      Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+      even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+      best patients have come over to me&mdash;so of course that ties my hands
+      still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child! Think
+      of what it may mean to her&mdash;if I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and think of what it will mean&mdash;if you don't!&rdquo; retorted
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how can I&mdash;without a direct request from her aunt?&mdash;which
+      I'll never get!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must be made to ask you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I guess you don't&mdash;nor anybody else. She's too proud and too
+      angry to ask me&mdash;after what she said years ago it would mean if she
+      did ask me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and
+      when I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+      confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+      pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again, angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if she could be made to see&mdash;to understand,&rdquo; urged John
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and who's going to do it?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, with a savage turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; groaned the other, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had scarcely
+      breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, by Jinks, I know!&rdquo; he whispered, exultingly. &ldquo;I'M a-goin' ter do
+      it!&rdquo; And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the corner
+      of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,&rdquo; announced Nancy in the
+      doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. &ldquo;Are you sure he did not
+      mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, I'll come down.&rdquo; And Miss Polly arose from her chair a little
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed, flushed-faced
+      boy, who began to speak at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful&mdash;what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+      but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+      her, or face you, or&mdash;or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think
+      you would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+      An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+      et&mdash;et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew
+      you WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wh-at?&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+      changing to one of angry indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+      about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I understand
+      each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as you did before&mdash;and
+      mix everything all up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+      talked in the library. Do you understand that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Jimmy.&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it; an'
+      I heard 'em talk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',&rdquo; bridled Jimmy. &ldquo;And I'm
+      glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make Pollyanna&mdash;walk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what do you mean?&rdquo; Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded Jimmy, contentedly. &ldquo;Well, Dr. Chilton knows
+      some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks&mdash;make her
+      walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+      see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Jimmy, I&mdash;I can't&mdash;I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!&rdquo;
+       Miss Polly was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,&rdquo; asserted
+      Jimmy, eagerly. &ldquo;They said that for some reason&mdash;I didn't rightly
+      catch what&mdash;you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr.
+      Warren so; an' Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him,
+      on account of pride an' professional et&mdash;et&mdash;well, et-somethin
+      anyway. An' they was wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they
+      didn't know who could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself
+      right away, 'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come&mdash;an' have I made ye
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,&rdquo; implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an' he's
+      just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow, they didn't
+      seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they was worryin'
+      about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An' say&mdash;you will
+      let him come, won't you?&mdash;now you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming in
+      little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes, thought
+      she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she said
+      brokenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I'll let&mdash;Dr. Chilton&mdash;see her. Now run home, Jimmy&mdash;quick!
+      I've got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a
+      few minutes ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated, flushed-faced
+      Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to hear the lady say,
+      a little breathlessly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+      consultation, and&mdash;I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+      much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+      once&mdash;please? Thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay watching
+      the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall, broad-shouldered man
+      followed close behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton!&mdash;oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!&rdquo; cried
+      Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+      eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. &ldquo;But, of course, if Aunt
+      Polly doesn't want&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all right, my dear; don't worry,&rdquo; soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+      hurrying forward. &ldquo;I have told Dr. Chilton that&mdash;that I want him to
+      look you over&mdash;with Dr. Warren, this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then you asked him to come,&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear, I asked him. That is&mdash;&rdquo; But it was too late. The adoring
+      happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and Miss
+      Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the room
+      hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+      Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever did
+      has been done to-day,&rdquo; he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+      crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+      to themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you&mdash;the very first one of all.
+      Some day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your&mdash;uncle. And
+      it's you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so&mdash;happy! And so&mdash;glad!&mdash;darling!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small palms
+      together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted so
+      long ago? You were&mdash;I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+      saying I'd done the gladdest job of all&mdash;to-day. I'm so glad! Why,
+      Aunt Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind&mdash;even my
+      legs, now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps, some day, dear&mdash;&rdquo; But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+      did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+      her heart. But she did say this&mdash;and surely this was quite wonderful
+      enough&mdash;to Pollyanna's mind:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+      comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages to
+      a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on purpose
+      for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr. Chilton's, and
+      we're going to see what he can do for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:&mdash;Oh, I can&mdash;I can&mdash;I CAN
+      walk! I did to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six
+      steps. My, how good it was to be on legs again!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood beside
+      of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week first,
+      peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next month,
+      was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and clapped
+      her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through the
+      piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying too much
+      to call me anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see why they cried. <i>I</i> wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+      Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! just think, I can walk&mdash;walk&mdash;WALK! Now I
+      don't mind being here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding,
+      anyhow. Wasn't that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get
+      married right beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of
+      the gladdest things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+      there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any more. It
+      will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for everything.
+      Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never, never know
+      how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them&mdash;that go, I
+      mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With heaps of love to everybody,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;POLLYANNA.&rdquo; <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+    
+  <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #1450 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1450)
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller for Tina
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Author of “Miss Billy,” “Miss Billy's Decision,” “Cross Currents,” “The
+Turn of the Tides,” etc.
+
+
+
+
+               TO
+               My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER
+     I.     MISS POLLY
+     II.    OLD TOM AND NANCY
+     III.   THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+     IV.    THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+     V.     THE GAME
+     VI.    A QUESTION OF DUTY
+     VII.   POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+     VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+     IX.    WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+     X.     A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+     XI.    INTRODUCING JIMMY
+     XII.   BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+     XIII.  IN PENDLETON WOODS
+     XIV.   JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+     XV.    DR. CHILTON
+     XVI.   A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+     XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+      XVIII. PRISMS
+     XIX.   WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+     XX.    WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+     XXI.   A QUESTION ANSWERED
+     XXII.  SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+     XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+     XXIV.  JOHN PENDLETON
+     XXV.   A WAITING GAME
+     XXVI.  A DOOR AJAR
+     XXVII. TWO VISITS
+     XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+     XXIX.  THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+     XXX.   JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+     XXXI.  A NEW UNCLE
+     XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she
+specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was
+hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew
+that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+the pitcher in her hand.
+
+“Nancy,”--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--“when I'm talking to
+you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say.”
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the
+cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not add
+to her composure.
+
+“Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,” she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. “I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you
+specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.”
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+“That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+attention.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+she could please this woman. Nancy had never “worked out” before; but
+a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children
+besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward
+their support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in
+the kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from “The
+Corners,” six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as
+the mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest
+residents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly
+now as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to
+the floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even when
+knives and doors were still.
+
+“When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,” Miss Polly was saying
+now, “you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+after you clear out the trunks and boxes.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?”
+
+“In the front attic.” Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: “I suppose I
+may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is
+coming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that
+room.”
+
+“A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!”
+ cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in the
+home at “The Corners.”
+
+“Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,” rejoined Miss
+Polly, stiffly. “However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I
+am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.”
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+“Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you,” she faltered.
+
+“Thank you,” rejoined the lady, dryly. “I can't say, however, that I see
+any immediate need for that.”
+
+“But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child,” ventured
+Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+“Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that
+was already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly
+WANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope
+I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,” she finished
+sharply, as she left the room.
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now so
+cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+
+“Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,
+he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre
+salary.
+
+“I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child
+and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to
+you.
+
+“The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+“Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+
+“Respectfully yours,
+
+“Jeremiah O. White.”
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would
+take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for
+that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time
+when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man
+of wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him to
+the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had married
+the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had
+had little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie
+herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby “Pollyanna”
+ for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. This
+had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there
+had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little
+note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of
+the house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were people
+who had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have
+some friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed
+either their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She
+liked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,
+of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew
+her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.
+But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than
+it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+“I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!” she
+muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+pointed cleaning-stick. “There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
+house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!”
+ snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
+strain; “I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
+just now!”
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+“Well, it's done--my part, anyhow,” she sighed. “There ain't no dirt
+here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
+this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!” she finished, going
+out and closing the door with a bang, “Oh!” she ejaculated, biting
+her lip. Then, doggedly: “Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
+bang,--I do, I do!”
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
+about the place for uncounted years.
+
+“Mr. Tom,” began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
+make sure she was unobserved; “did you know a little girl was comin'
+here ter live with Miss Polly?”
+
+“A--what?” demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+“A little girl--to live with Miss Polly.”
+
+“Go on with yer jokin',” scoffed unbelieving Tom. “Why don't ye tell me
+the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?”
+
+“But it's true. She told me so herself,” maintained Nancy. “It's her
+niece; and she's eleven years old.”
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+“Sho!--I wonder, now,” he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+faded eyes. “It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
+wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+a-seein' this!”
+
+“Who was Miss Jennie?”
+
+“She was an angel straight out of Heaven,” breathed the man, fervently;
+“but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
+was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
+babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one
+what's a-comin'.”
+
+“She's eleven years old.”
+
+“Yes, she might be,” nodded the old man.
+
+“And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!” scolded
+Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind
+her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+“I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,” he
+said.
+
+“Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in
+the house!” snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+“I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,” he grinned.
+
+“As if ever anybody could be fond of her!” scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+“I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,” he said
+slowly.
+
+“Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither.”
+
+“Oh, yes they did,” nodded the old man. “And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.” The old man drew
+himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was
+the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved
+for long years.
+
+“But it don't seem possible--her and a lover,” still maintained Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,” he argued. “She used ter be real
+handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.”
+
+“Handsome! Miss Polly!”
+
+“Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with
+posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things--you'd
+see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.”
+
+“Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of
+it--she has, she has!” sniffed Nancy.
+
+“Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her lover,”
+ nodded Old Tom; “and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood an'
+thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal with.”
+
+“I should say she was,” declared Nancy, indignantly. “There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't
+for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some
+day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be
+good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will.”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child; 'tain't
+best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.” And again he bent his old head
+to the work before him.
+
+“Nancy!” called a sharp voice.
+
+“Y-yes, ma'am,” stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs,
+a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were
+no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All
+day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room
+was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not
+been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+down, up and down, trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+the room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, “I found a
+fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised
+at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall
+expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive
+to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station.
+Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says
+'light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I
+know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am; but--you--”
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+crisply:
+
+“No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+all.” And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of
+her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+“'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she knows,
+indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would--and
+her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!”
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
+Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
+friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
+usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
+station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it “light hair, red-checked
+dress, straw hat.” Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
+of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+“I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+bang doors,” she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+
+“Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,”
+ grinned Timothy. “Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+the whistle now!”
+
+“Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me,” chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
+she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
+red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
+the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
+her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
+standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+
+“Are you Miss--Pollyanna?” she faltered. The next moment she found
+herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,” cried an eager voice in her
+ear. “Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
+hoped you would.”
+
+“You--you did?” stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
+possibly have known her--and wanted her. “You--you did?” she repeated,
+trying to straighten her hat.
+
+“Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
+like,” cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
+embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. “And now I know, and
+I'm glad you look just like you do look.”
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+had been most confusing.
+
+“This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,” she stammered.
+
+“Yes, I have,” nodded Pollyanna, importantly. “I've got a brand-new one.
+The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet
+a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as half an
+aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
+get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here
+'tis,” she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had
+to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
+Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During
+the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+
+“There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride,”
+ sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. “Of course, if 'tisn't
+far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the
+sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty;
+father told me--”
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+lifting of her head.
+
+“Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
+explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red gingham
+dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think 'twas
+queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn, you know--on
+both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to
+buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought
+to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+course, but not the black part.”
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+“Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right.”
+
+“I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,” nodded Pollyanna, again with
+that choking little breath. “Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
+harder to be glad in black--”
+
+“Glad!” gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+“Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us,
+you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to--to do
+it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him, so; and I couldn't
+help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have
+God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the Ladies' Aid.
+But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm
+so glad I've got you!”
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her
+turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+“Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,” she faltered. “I'm
+only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!”
+
+“You--you AREN'T?” stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+“No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We--we
+ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!”
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+flash from his eyes.
+
+“But who ARE you?” questioned Pollyanna. “You don't look a bit like a
+Ladies' Aider!”
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+“I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an'
+hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.”
+
+“But there IS an Aunt Polly?” demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+“You bet your life there is,” cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then.” There was a moment's silence, then she
+went on brightly: “And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't
+come to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+besides.”
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+“I call that a pretty slick compliment,” he said. “Why don't you thank
+the little lady?”
+
+“I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly,” faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+“I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me.
+He said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.”
+
+“She does. You can see it now,” said Nancy.
+
+“It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.”
+
+“Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+Polly rich, Nancy?”
+
+“Yes, Miss.”
+
+“I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some rich. They
+have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+ice-cream Sundays?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+Timothy's eyes.
+
+“No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never
+saw it on her table.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's
+did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got
+the carpets, though.”
+
+“Yes, she's got the carpets.”
+
+“In every room?”
+
+“Well, in almost every room,” answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” exulted Pollyanna. “I love carpets. We didn't have
+any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one
+of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly
+beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some
+lambs and a lion--not together, you know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is,
+I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?”
+
+“I--I don't know,” answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+“I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father
+sold it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad
+it fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you
+know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used
+to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?” she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+“Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!”
+
+“Leave! I should say not,” grinned the youth.
+
+“You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!”
+
+“Fun!--fun!” repeated Nancy, indignantly, “I guess it'll be somethin'
+more than fun for that blessed child--when them two tries ter live
+tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!” she
+vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up
+from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with “duty” written large
+on every coldly extended finger.
+
+“How do you do, Pollyanna? I--” She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that
+you let me come to live with you,” she was sobbing. “You don't know how
+perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've
+had just the Ladies' Aid!”
+
+“Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+acquaintance,” rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the
+small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the
+doorway. “Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough,
+please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you
+look like.”
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+“No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows.
+I told Nancy how father said--”
+
+“Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,” interrupted Miss
+Polly, crisply. “You had a trunk, I presume?”
+
+“Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own, I
+mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them
+lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she
+thought I ought to have those. You see, father--”
+
+“Pollyanna,” interrupted her aunt again, sharply, “there is one thing
+that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I
+do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me.”
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--” She hesitated, and her aunt filled
+the pause.
+
+“We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may follow
+me, Pollyanna.”
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+
+“After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+father,” Pollyanna was thinking. “It'll be easier, maybe--if I don't
+talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+about him.” And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's “kindness,”
+ blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of
+picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace
+curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,” breathed the little girl, rapturously;
+“what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be
+you're so rich!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached
+the head of the stairs. “I'm surprised at you--making a speech like that
+to me!”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?” queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+
+“Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,”
+ declared the lady; “certainly not, of RICHES!”
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway
+door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room.
+Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from
+herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness
+would not destroy valuable furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of
+vanity showing thus early--it was all the more fortunate that the room
+planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that
+no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+was waiting now her room--the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her
+aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At
+the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners
+where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were
+stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too.
+Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it seemed so hard to
+breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+
+“There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see.
+Have you your key?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+“When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+not merely with your head.”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you
+need here,” she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+pitcher. “I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+o'clock,” she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking
+after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare
+floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that
+had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away
+Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on
+her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+“There, there, you poor lamb,” she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+drawing the little girl into her arms. “I was just a-fearin! I'd find
+you like this, like this.”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked,” she sobbed. “I just can't
+make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+than I did.”
+
+“No more they did, neither,” declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+“Oh-h!--NANCY!” The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+“There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,” she cried briskly.
+“Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+your dresses in no time, no time.”
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+“There aren't very many there, anyway,” she faltered.
+
+“Then they're all the sooner unpacked,” declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+“That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?” she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+“Why, of--course,” she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses.
+Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in
+the closet, stacking the books on the table, and putting away the
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?”
+ she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in
+the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully
+at the bare wall above.
+
+“And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.”
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her
+hands joyously.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,” she breathed. “Look--'way off
+there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody
+need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me
+have this room!”
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+“Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?” she cried; then, fearfully: “This
+wasn't--YOUR room, was it?”
+
+“My room!” stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. “If you ain't
+a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt
+before--Oh, land! there's her bell!” After which amazing speech, Nancy
+sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the
+stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her “picture,” as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her
+eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about
+the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed.
+Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery--against this window a
+huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms
+outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+“I believe I can do it,” she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+ground was--even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little
+fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her
+strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a
+bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an
+open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree
+stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there
+seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in--the top of that
+big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things,
+and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran through the open
+field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the
+bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+appeared; “my niece is late. No, you need not call her,” she added
+severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. “I told her what
+time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She
+may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down
+she may have bread and milk in the kitchen.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+“Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just cried
+herself to sleep,” she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open
+the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. “Where are you?
+Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?” she panted, looking in the
+closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,” she wailed. “She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me
+told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel
+food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!”
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+“Gone? Heaven?” he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. “Well, Nancy, it do look like as
+if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,”
+ he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined
+against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on
+top of a huge rock.
+
+“Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my
+say,” declared Nancy, doggedly. “If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,” she flung back over her
+shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+“For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,”
+ panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+regretfully slid.
+
+“Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they
+found I always came back all right.”
+
+“But I didn't even know you'd went,” cried Nancy, tucking the little
+girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. “I didn't see
+you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+do, I do.”
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+“I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.”
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+“You did--what?”
+
+“Came down the tree, outside my window.”
+
+“My stars and stockings!” gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. “I'd like ter
+know what yer aunt would say ter that!”
+
+“Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,” promised
+the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+“Mercy!” gasped Nancy. “No--no!”
+
+“Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!” cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+
+“No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about
+knowin' what she'd say, truly,” stammered Nancy, determined to keep one
+scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. “But, say, we better hurry.
+I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.”
+
+“I'll help,” promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna
+took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+“I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause
+then you came after me,” she shivered.
+
+“Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll
+have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't
+like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.”
+
+“But I couldn't. I was up here.”
+
+“Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!” observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. “I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.”
+
+“Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.”
+
+“Glad! Why?”
+
+“Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see
+any trouble about being glad about that.”
+
+“You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',”
+ retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's
+brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.”
+
+“The--GAME?”
+
+“Yes; the 'just being glad' game.”
+
+“Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?”
+
+“Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,” rejoined
+Pollyanna. “We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it--some of them.”
+
+“What is it? I ain't much on games, though.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+“Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.”
+
+“CRUTCHES!”
+
+“Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but
+when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in,
+but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in
+handy for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.”
+
+“Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,” declared
+Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+“Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be
+glad about--no matter what 'twas,” rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. “And
+we began right then--on the crutches.”
+
+“Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about--gettin' a
+pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There is--there is,” she crowed. “But _I_ couldn't see it, either,
+Nancy, at first,” she added, with quick honesty. “Father had to tell it
+to me.”
+
+“Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,” almost snapped Nancy.
+
+“Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!” exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. “You see it's just as easy--when you know how!”
+
+“Well, of all the queer doin's!” breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna
+with almost fearful eyes.
+
+“Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely,” maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. “And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's almost too
+hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't anybody but
+a Ladies' Aid left.”
+
+“Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+house with nothin' in it,” growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“That was a hard one, at first,” she admitted, “specially when I was so
+kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and
+I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I
+hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely
+picture out the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be
+glad about. You see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort
+of forget the other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know.”
+
+“Humph!” choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+“Most generally it doesn't take so long,” sighed Pollyanna; “and lots of
+times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it
+so much,” she faltered. “I suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder
+now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+play it, though,” she added, as an after-thought.
+
+“My stars and stockings!--HER!” breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then,
+aloud, she said doggedly: “See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin' that
+I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway; but
+I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I just will, I will!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. “That'll be
+splendid! Won't we have fun?”
+
+“Er--maybe,” conceded Nancy, in open doubt. “But you mustn't count too
+much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin' ter
+make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+ter play it with, anyhow,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you
+into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.”
+
+“But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.”
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+“Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day,
+and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see
+what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be
+careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See
+that you are down to that. Good-night.”
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+“I've had such a beautiful time, so far,” she sighed happily. “I know
+I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before
+I came. Good-night,” she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+
+“Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. “What a most
+extraordinary child!” Then she frowned. “She's 'glad' I punished her,
+and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with
+me! Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her
+book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed
+into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+“I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit
+now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be
+glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
+If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it
+would be easier!”
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work,
+jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+
+“If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches
+when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o'
+refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after
+her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not
+see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and
+she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt
+was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she
+made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+alive!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect
+as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her
+neck. “Is this the usual way you say good morning?”
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+
+“No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from
+my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies'
+Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just
+had to come down and hug you!”
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+“Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+understand--about those rose-bushes,” she said stiffly. Then she turned
+and walked rapidly away.
+
+“Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?” asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as
+if with tears.
+
+“Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,” he answered. Timidly, but as if
+impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+it rest for a moment on her bright hair. “You are so like your mother,
+little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+You see, I used ter work in the garden--then.”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+“You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a little
+earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!” And
+down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's
+side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+the back door.
+
+“Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's,” she panted,
+pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+“and other times it means other meals. But it always means that
+you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye
+don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter
+be glad about in that!” she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house
+as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss
+Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies
+darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+“Nancy, where did those flies come from?”
+
+“I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.” Nancy had been
+too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+
+“I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,” observed Pollyanna,
+amiably. “There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+upstairs.”
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+“Yours!” gasped Miss Polly. “What do you mean? Where did they come
+from?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+windows. I SAW some of them come in.”
+
+“You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?”
+
+“Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.”
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was
+grave, but very red.
+
+“Nancy,” directed her mistress, sharply, “you may set the muffins down
+and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the
+doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every
+room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.”
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+“Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+forgotten YOUR duty.”
+
+“My--duty?” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+“Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I
+will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.”
+
+“To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!”
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+
+“Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,” she
+apologized timidly. “I won't raise the windows again.”
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out
+a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+
+“This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+things.”
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+magnified, cried joyously:
+
+“Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!” The next moment she skipped merrily from
+the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up
+the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why,
+I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet,
+and--”
+
+“That will do,” observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. “Pollyanna, you may
+bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.”
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned
+toward the closet.
+
+“I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did--and
+THEY said they were shameful,” she sighed. “But there were mostly things
+for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and--did you
+ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?”
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at
+once.
+
+“Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!” she hurried on, with a
+hot blush. “I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in this room, you
+know.”
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+hurrying on.
+
+“Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're going
+to--even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every time, too,
+that were hardest to play the game on, for father and--”
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+“They aren't nice, at all,” she choked, “and they'd been black if it
+hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've
+got.”
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I've got the best ones on,” confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. “The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to
+clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they
+won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says;
+but he's got money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the
+carpet--on account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad
+that if he did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?”
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+
+“You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home some,
+too.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr.
+Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
+Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each
+day.”
+
+“I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to
+read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+glad, either, for I like best to read to myself--on account of the big
+words, you know.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. “Have you studied
+music?”
+
+“Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+Polly. I'd rather, truly.”
+
+“Very likely,” observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+“Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Pollyanna sighed. “The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I
+had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle
+like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought
+backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other
+way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever,
+at all.”
+
+“Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+presume.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+“They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't
+got far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
+They were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made
+it alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to
+take turns at me one forenoon a week--in their own kitchens, you know.
+I'd only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had
+to stop.” Her voice broke.
+
+“Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!” scorned Miss Polly. “I think
+we can remedy that very soon.” She paused in thought for a minute, then
+went on slowly: “At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you
+will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I
+shall, of course, procure a teacher at once for you,” she finished
+decisively, as she arose from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all
+just to--to live.”
+
+“To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the
+time!”
+
+“Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing the things you want
+to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing hills,
+talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all about
+the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+“Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if
+I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and
+instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that
+care and instruction are not ungratefully wasted.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I LOVE
+YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!”
+
+“Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,” vouchsafed Miss
+Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+after her:
+
+“Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted
+to--to give away.”
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town
+at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my
+niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you
+if I should let you appear out in any one of them.”
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please,” she called wistfully, “isn't there ANY way you can
+be glad about all that--duty business?”
+
+“What?” Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with
+very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. “Don't be
+impertinent, Pollyanna!”
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+of duty.
+
+“I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,” she
+sighed. “I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be
+glad about in all that duty business.”
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
+on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
+began to put away the dresses.
+
+“There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,” she said
+aloud; “unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!” Whereupon she
+laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
+from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
+the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
+last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
+a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
+it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
+keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
+herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
+she expressed it to one of the clerks: “When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
+lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
+that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!”
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
+a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
+very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
+miles away at “The Corners,” where lived her own dear mother, and her
+equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
+Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+
+“And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,” sighed
+Nancy. “They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
+hate 'Nancy'!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?”
+
+“Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
+in 'em, then.”
+
+“But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,” declared Pollyanna.
+
+“Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,”
+ retorted Nancy, “and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+name's just grand!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow,” she chuckled, “you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'”
+
+“Hephzibah!”
+
+“Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just
+as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+like to be hurrahed at.”
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+“Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never
+hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My,
+I guess I AM glad--” She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the
+little girl. “Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that
+'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+“Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the
+times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots
+of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about,
+you know. And most generally there is something about everything that
+you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.”
+
+“Well, m-maybe,” granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet
+come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes
+Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise
+them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew
+out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way
+across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung
+a path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window.
+With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to
+the left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+silvery path, and on to the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to
+hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
+her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
+of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
+a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
+they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
+fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
+fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
+thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
+so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
+in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
+stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
+after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
+roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
+rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
+end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
+her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
+fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
+up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+“I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,” she murmured, blinking
+up at the stars; “else I couldn't have had this!”
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
+to Timothy:
+
+“Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis
+or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the
+east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here--but
+hurry, quick!”
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by
+a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes
+to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting
+through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean?” cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+“Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!” she stammered. “Don't look so scared! It
+isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so
+the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.”
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were gone; then she said
+sternly:
+
+“Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all
+the extraordinary children!” she ejaculated a little later, as, with
+Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into
+the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath
+of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long
+quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+“For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with
+me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my
+duty to keep you where I know where you are.”
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+“With you?--in your bed?” she cried rapturously. “Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt
+Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+didn't come! Wouldn't you be?”
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to
+tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna--and for the
+third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had
+at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied
+cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these
+things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time,
+also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she
+liked--provided she did not “like” to do certain things already
+prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to
+the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a relief to Aunt
+Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate “What an extraordinary
+child!” and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far
+away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's
+age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+“Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,” she explained to Nancy. “I'm happy
+just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the
+people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?”
+
+“Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em,” retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for “an errand
+to run,” so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or
+another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To
+herself Pollyanna always called him “the Man,” no matter if she met a
+dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two things
+that the “just men” never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather
+pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked
+erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna
+vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day
+spoke to him.
+
+“How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?” she called cheerily, as she
+approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+
+“Did you speak--to me?” he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+“Yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna. “I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+“'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,” she called
+out cheerfully.
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+the man stopped abruptly.
+
+“See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every
+day?”
+
+“I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your name yet.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on
+faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+smiling lips.
+
+“Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an introduction. I
+don't know HIS name, yet,” she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and
+a member of her church--it was the duty of all the church members
+to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow
+usually on Thursday afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy.
+To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given
+it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+“And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,” Nancy had declared in
+private afterwards to Pollyanna; “though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the
+job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!”
+
+“But I'd love to do it, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, you won't--after you've done it once,” predicted Nancy, sourly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a
+soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All
+is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.”
+
+“But, why, Nancy?”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened,
+has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't
+run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas
+Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted
+chicken--but if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for
+lamb broth!”
+
+“Why, what a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like
+to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and different. I love
+DIFFERENT folks.”
+
+“Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the sake
+of the rest of us!” Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at
+the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling,
+indeed, at the prospect of meeting this “different” Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+
+“How do you do?” began Pollyanna politely. “I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.”
+
+“Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,”
+ muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at
+the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+
+“How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.”
+
+“Dear me! Jelly?” murmured a fretful voice. “Of course I'm very much
+obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth to-day.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+“Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,”
+ she said.
+
+“What?” The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+“Why, nothing, much,” apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; “and of course
+it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+chicken--but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.”
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a most
+unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+
+“Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?” she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too! That
+would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's
+why I'm here with the jelly this morning.”
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on
+her pillow listlessly.
+
+“Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--” She
+stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. “I
+never slept a wink last night--not a wink!”
+
+“O dear, I wish _I_ didn't,” sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on the
+little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair. “You
+lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?”
+
+“Lose time--sleeping!” exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+“Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+can't live nights, too.”
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!” she cried. “Here! do you go
+to that window and pull up the curtain,” she directed. “I should like to
+know what you look like!”
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+“O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?” she sighed, as she
+went to the window; “--and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!” she broke off excitedly,
+as she turned back to the bed; “I'm so glad you wanted to see me,
+because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!”
+
+“Me!--pretty!” scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+“Why, yes. Didn't you know it?” cried Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, no, I didn't,” retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived
+forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy
+wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they
+were.
+
+“Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too,
+and curly,” cooed Pollyanna. “I love black curls. (That's one of the
+things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two
+little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I
+should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.”
+
+“The glass!” snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. “Yes,
+well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days--and you
+wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!”
+
+“Why, no, of course not,” agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. “But
+wait--just let me show you,” she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau
+and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+critical gaze.
+
+“I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+little before I let you see it,” she proposed. “May I fix your hair,
+please?”
+
+“Why, I--suppose so, if you want to,” permitted Mrs. Snow, grudgingly;
+“but 'twon't stay, you know.”
+
+“Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,” exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. “I sha'n't
+do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty
+you are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+lovely time with it,” she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or
+shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better
+pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly
+scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to
+tingle with a feeling perilously near to excitement.
+
+“There!” panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by
+and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect.
+“Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!” And she held out the mirror
+in triumph.
+
+“Humph!” grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. “I like
+red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+night, so what's the difference!”
+
+“But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,” laughed Pollyanna,
+“'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+hair fluffed out like that,” she finished with a satisfied gaze. “Don't
+you?”
+
+“Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the
+pillow as I do.”
+
+“Of course not--and I'm glad, too,” nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+“because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+like mine does.”
+
+“Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray too
+soon,” retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+mirror before her face.
+
+“Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,” sighed
+Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+“Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black
+hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day as I do!”
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+“Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?” she mused
+aloud.
+
+“Do what?”
+
+“Be glad about things.”
+
+“Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+should say it would,” retorted Mrs. Snow. “If you don't think so, just
+tell me something to be glad about; that's all!”
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come
+I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,” she
+called again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+
+“Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?” ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up
+the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+“That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,” she
+muttered under her breath. “I declare, I didn't know it could look so
+pretty. But then, what's the use?” she sighed, dropping the little glass
+into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+still lay among the bedclothes--thought it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+
+“Why, mother--the curtain is up!” cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare
+between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+
+“Well, what if it is?” snapped the sick woman. “I needn't stay in the
+dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?”
+
+“Why, n-no, of course not,” rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as
+she reached for the medicine bottle. “It's only--well, you know very
+well that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+wouldn't.”
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+“I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead of lamb
+broth, for a change!”
+
+“Why--mother!”
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer
+behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months
+had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+with a bright smile.
+
+“It isn't so nice to-day, is it?” she called blithesomely. “I'm glad it
+doesn't rain always, anyhow!”
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna
+decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore
+(which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She
+thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man
+was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the
+ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the
+glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a
+special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.
+
+“How do you do?” she chirped. “I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+you?”
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+“See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right
+now, once for all,” he began testily. “I've got something besides
+the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.”
+ Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+“No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.”
+
+“Yes; well--Eh? What?” he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding of
+her words.
+
+“I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you know--that
+the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you
+only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+thinking of it!”
+
+“Well, of all the--” ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.
+He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back,
+still frowning.
+
+“See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?”
+
+“I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still,
+I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.”
+
+“Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?” The
+man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still
+trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but that
+you're just as good, of course--maybe better,” she added in hurried
+politeness. “You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!”
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+“Well, of all the--” he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as
+before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight
+into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really
+pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+“Good afternoon,” he greeted her a little stiffly. “Perhaps I'd better
+say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.”
+
+“But you don't have to tell me,” nodded Pollyanna, brightly. “I KNEW you
+knew it just as soon as I saw you.”
+
+“Oh, you did, did you?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.”
+
+“Humph!” grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+first, though usually he said little but “good afternoon.” Even that,
+however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+one day when the greeting was given.
+
+“Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,” she gasped, “did that man SPEAK TO YOU?”
+
+“Why, yes, he always does--now,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?” demanded Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+“I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+introducing, but he didn't.”
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+“But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I guess,
+except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
+He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him--comes down ter the
+hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he
+wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time--only it'll be
+somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and
+I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally.
+We used to say how glad we were we liked beans--that is, we said it
+specially when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that
+was sixty cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?”
+
+“Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
+There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills,
+if he wanted to--and not know it.”
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+“As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+come to try to chew 'em!”
+
+“Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,” shrugged Nancy. “He ain't
+spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.”
+
+“Oh, for the heathen,” surmised Pollyanna. “How perfectly splendid!
+That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told
+me.”
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+something that prevented the words being spoken.
+
+“Humph!” she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on: “But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss
+Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great
+big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's
+crazy, and some jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his
+closet.”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” shuddered Pollyanna. “How can he keep such a dreadful
+thing? I should think he'd throw it away!”
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead
+of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+correcting the mistake.
+
+“And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,” she went on. “Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.”
+
+“Oh, a missionary,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+“Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+money here--leastways, not for jest livin'.”
+
+“Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen,” declared Pollyanna.
+“But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs. Snow,
+only he's a different different.”
+
+“Well, I guess he is--rather,” chuckled Nancy.
+
+“I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,” sighed Pollyanna
+contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as
+at first, in a darkened room.
+
+“It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,” announced Milly, in a
+tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+
+“Oh, it's you, is it?” asked a fretful voice from the bed. “I remember
+you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you
+had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.”
+
+“Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+to-day is, then,” laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room,
+and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. “My! but aren't you
+dark here, though? I can't see you a bit,” she cried, unhesitatingly
+crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. “I want to see if
+you've fixed your hair like I did--oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm
+glad you haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later.
+But now I want you to see what I've brought you.”
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+“Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,”
+ she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket. “Well, what is
+it?”
+
+“Guess! What do you want?” Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+“Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,” she sighed. “After all, they
+all taste alike!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?”
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+what she DID want seemed impossible--until she knew what she had.
+Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+waiting.
+
+“Well, of course, there's lamb broth--”
+
+“I've got it!” crowed Pollyanna.
+
+“But that's what I DIDN'T want,” sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+her stomach craved. “It was chicken I wanted.”
+
+“Oh, I've got that, too,” chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+“Both of them?” she demanded.
+
+“Yes--and calf's-foot jelly,” triumphed Pollyanna. “I was just bound you
+should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+course, there's only a little of each--but there's some of all of 'em!
+I'm so glad you did want chicken,” she went on contentedly, as she
+lifted the three little bowls from her basket. “You see, I got to
+thinking on the way here--what if you should say tripe, or onions,
+or something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a
+shame--when I'd tried so hard?” she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally to find
+something she had lost.
+
+“There! I'm to leave them all,” announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+three bowls in a row on the table. “Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?” she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+“Very poorly, thank you,” murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her
+usual listless attitude. “I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins
+next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly
+wild. She was at it all the morning--every minute! I'm sure, I don't
+know what I shall do!”
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies' Aiders,
+you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+have. Can you?”
+
+“Can I--what?”
+
+“Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position when the
+music gets too hard to stand.”
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+“Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed,” she rejoined a little
+irritably.
+
+“Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?” nodded
+Pollyanna. “Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says.
+She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it
+hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being deaf, so.”
+
+“Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and she came to visit
+'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they had
+such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White
+felt so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she
+DID hear it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if
+she was deaf and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You
+see, she was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.”
+
+“The--game?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what you can
+be glad about.”
+
+“GLAD about! What do you mean?”
+
+“Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though you did have to
+lie here abed all day.”
+
+“Oh!” scoffed the woman. “THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't
+suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I was,” nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; “and I found it, too.
+But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard.
+And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for
+a while. Then I got it.”
+
+“Did you, really? Well, what is it?” Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know,” she announced impressively.
+Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+“Well, really!” she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+voice.
+
+“And now I'll tell you the game,” proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. “It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so hard. And
+there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.” And
+she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll
+that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+“Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,” she said with dreary
+listlessness. “She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to make up before
+dark.”
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+“All right,” she sighed. “I'll hurry.” Suddenly she laughed. “I suppose
+I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?”
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+cheeks.
+
+“Good-by,” flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+“I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+next time!”
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy;
+but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I should have
+failed signally in my duty.”
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but
+one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+“Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they
+should be just happy days?” she asked wistfully.
+
+“That is what I mean, Pollyanna.”
+
+“They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?”
+
+“Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to show
+for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!”
+
+“Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?” questioned Pollyanna, a
+little anxiously.
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you
+won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Game? What game?”
+
+“Why, that father--” Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+“N-nothing,” she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,” she said tersely. And the
+sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room,
+met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!” she cried. “You were coming up
+to see me! Come right in. I love company,” she finished, scampering up
+the stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself,
+not in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little
+room sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs--so many, many times
+since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+“I love company,” said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+dispensing the hospitality of a palace; “specially since I've had this
+room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas
+a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are
+they? And of course I do own this one, don't I?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,” murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+“And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--” With a painful
+blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+
+“What's that, Pollyanna?”
+
+“N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.”
+
+“Probably not,” returned Miss Polly, coldly; “but you did say it, so
+suppose we have the rest of it.”
+
+“But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course--”
+
+“PLANNING on them!” interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+“I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,” she apologized. “It was
+only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh,
+we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and
+one had ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those
+two pictures; the one fath--I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+wanted them, so--pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+here, and--and--but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I
+mean, a few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there couldn't
+be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've been so
+good to me, that--”
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” she said stiffly.
+
+“You have said quite enough, I'm sure.” The next minute she had swept
+down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor did it
+suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a
+white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+
+“Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there
+for the present.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” said Nancy aloud.
+
+“O glory!” said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+“And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter
+sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are--you are!”
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+“You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?”
+
+“I guess you'll think it's really and truly,” prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+had taken from the closet. “I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.”
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at
+a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her
+goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's
+got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides
+the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt
+Polly!”
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of
+course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will
+take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that
+chair; and you have banged two doors in the last half-minute.” Miss
+Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable
+reason, she felt inclined to cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling
+inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+“Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors,” she admitted cheerfully. “You
+see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+doors if--” Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new interest.
+“Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?”
+
+“I hope--not, Pollyanna!” Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!” Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+“A shame!” repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+“Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+ever glad over anything--or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't have
+helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!”
+
+“PollyANna!” gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the
+distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had
+gone to help Nancy bring down “her things.”
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but then, of
+course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some changes--none
+of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+
+“And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,” she told her
+aunt in happy confidence; “'cause I wanted to bring it home all the
+time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.”
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery
+in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats--not
+even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+“Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+all mangy and fleay.”
+
+“I know it, poor little thing,” crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking
+into the little creature's frightened eyes. “And it's all trembly, too,
+it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep
+it, of course.”
+
+“No--nor anybody else,” retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+
+“Oh, yes, they do,” nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her
+aunt's words. “I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find
+where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it--poor little lonesome
+thing!”
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+had her now fast in its grip.
+
+“Of course I knew,” hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, “that you wouldn't
+let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,” she nodded happily, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Miss Polly. “I don't--” But
+Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+“Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going
+to bring up along with me!” And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room--who
+abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay, powerless
+to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy--a role that
+Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+that the woman--who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+possible--found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small,
+ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss
+Polly did have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot
+jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of
+friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna
+had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow
+herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was
+not playing it very well--she had been sorry for everything for so long,
+that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning
+fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she
+was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what
+she had been wanting--she did not know that Milly, at the front door,
+had told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent
+over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+“Hullo,” smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+“Hullo yourself,” he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,” she
+chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was “used
+to Ladies' Aiders,” and “didn't mind,” she had sighed at times for some
+companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of
+this one.
+
+“My name's Pollyanna Whittier,” she began pleasantly. “What's yours?”
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+settled back.
+
+“Jimmy Bean,” he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+“Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some folks
+don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+live?”
+
+“Nowhere.”
+
+“Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere,” asserted
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.”
+
+“Oh! Where is it?”
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+“Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!”
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she
+did not like to be called “silly.” Still, he was somebody besides--old
+folks. “Where did you live--before?” she queried.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!” sighed the boy
+impatiently.
+
+“I have to be,” retorted Pollyanna calmly, “else I couldn't find out a
+thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.”
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+time.
+
+“All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old goin'
+on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but they've
+got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+somewheres else--but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a
+home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of
+a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks
+since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but--they
+didn't want me--though I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is
+that all you want ter know?” The boy's voice had broken a little over
+the last two sentences.
+
+“Why, what a shame!” sympathized Pollyanna. “And didn't there anybody
+want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after--after my
+father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until
+Aunt Polly said she'd take--” Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of
+a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+
+“Oh, I know just the place for you,” she cried. “Aunt Polly'll take
+you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy
+and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to
+go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take
+you! You don't know how good and kind she is!”
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+“Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!”
+ He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+“Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the
+world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's
+rooms--heaps of 'em,” she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging
+at his arm. “It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,” she added a little
+anxiously, as they hurried on, “maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic
+room. I did, at first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so
+hot, and the flies can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on
+their feet. Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll
+let you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And you've
+got freckles, too,”--with a critical glance--“so you'll be glad there
+isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any
+wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm
+sure,” panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of
+her breath for purposes other than talking.
+
+“Gorry!” exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added: “I shouldn't think anybody who could talk
+like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time
+with!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,” she retorted; “for when I'm
+talking, YOU don't have to!”
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” she triumphed, “just look a-here! I've got something
+ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up.
+It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at
+first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most
+of the time to play with, I reckon.”
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+she thought she understood enough.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+you find him?” she demanded sharply.
+
+The “dirty little boy” fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+“There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy is--just like Fluffy
+and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve all
+right by washing, just as they did, and--Oh, I 'most forgot again,” she
+broke off with a laugh. “This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Well, what is he doing here?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+surprise. “He's for you. I brought him home--so he could live here, you
+know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.”
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+erect.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you
+must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who--”
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+fearlessly.
+
+“I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have
+come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me,
+a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter
+take me in. So, there!” And he wheeled about and stalked from the room
+with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” choked Pollyanna. “Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to
+have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The “good and kind” of the boy's
+words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was
+almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom
+of her will power.
+
+“Pollyanna,” she cried sharply, “WILL you stop using that everlasting
+word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning till night until I
+think I shall grow wild!”
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly,” she breathed, “I should think you'd be glad to have
+me gl--Oh!” she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+him.
+
+“Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am,” she
+panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+“Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,” retorted the boy, sullenly. “But I
+ain't no beggar!” he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+“Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,” appealed
+Pollyanna. “Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and
+I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and kind,
+really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do
+wish I could find some place for you, though!”
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+“Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you
+know.”
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+illumined.
+
+“Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them.
+That's what father always did, when he wanted anything--educating the
+heathen and new carpets, you know.”
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a Ladies'
+Aid?”
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+“Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know what a
+Ladies' Aid is!”
+
+“Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin',” grunted the boy, turning and
+beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+“It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give
+suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies' Aid is.
+They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven't
+seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going to tell
+them about you this afternoon.”
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear
+a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!”
+
+“Oh, but you wouldn't be there,” argued Pollyanna, quickly. “I'd go
+alone, of course, and tell them.”
+
+“You would?”
+
+“Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,” hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. “And there'd be some of
+'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home.”
+
+“I'd work--don't forget ter say that,” cautioned the boy.
+
+“Of course not,” promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point
+was gained. “Then I'll let you know to-morrow.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.”
+
+“All right. I'll be there.” The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+“Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see
+I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't leave till this
+mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+they'd pretend I couldn't come--though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+They don't CARE!”
+
+“I know,” nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. “But I'm sure, when
+I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care
+all ready for you. Good-by!” she called brightly, as she turned back
+toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a
+bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In
+her ears still was the boy's scornful “you was so good and kind.” In her
+heart was a curious sense of desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent
+meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried
+to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four
+times she was obliged to break off a “glad” in the middle of it, much
+to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved
+her head wearily.
+
+“There, there, child, say it, if you want to,” she sighed. “I'm sure I'd
+rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.”
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+“Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say it. You
+see I've played it so long.”
+
+“You've--what?” demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+“Played it--the game, you know, that father--” Pollyanna stopped with a
+painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies'
+Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry
+for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
+not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean
+before the Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called
+Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel
+next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+
+“I want them all to be there,” she said to herself; “else the very one
+that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy
+Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really--to
+Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel
+steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of
+feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a
+brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+Ladies' Aid.
+
+“How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?” she faltered politely. “I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU--only
+I don't know you all together this way.”
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+then.
+
+“I--I've come to--to lay the case before you,” stammered Pollyanna,
+after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's familiar
+phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+“Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?” asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's
+wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+“Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It
+was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father.”
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+“Yes, dear. What is it?”
+
+“Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean,” sighed Pollyanna. “He hasn't any home
+except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has
+a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him--to
+live with you, you know.”
+
+“Well, did you ever!” murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,” she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk
+among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was
+no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to
+think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who
+had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no
+one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's
+wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his
+support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year
+to the little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year.
+Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not
+have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at
+all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their
+society in a certain “report” “headed the list”--and of course that
+could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and
+not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she
+found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was very sorry,
+too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they
+would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than
+to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for
+which they would not get “a bit of credit in the report,” according to
+the tall lady who wore spectacles.
+
+“Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,” sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+as she trudged sorrowfully along. “But they acted as if little boys HERE
+weren't any account--only little boys 'way off. I should THINK, though,
+they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow--than just a report!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had
+been a hard day, for all it had been a “vacation one” (as she termed
+the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and
+Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a
+walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill,
+therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+“I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,” she was telling
+herself; “and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the
+woods, even if I do have to climb to get there.”
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+to-morrow.
+
+“I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud,” sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. “Anyhow, if they were up
+here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little
+boy, all right,” she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to
+give a reason for it, even to herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still
+barking.
+
+“Hullo, doggie--hullo!” Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly,
+but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was
+still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at
+once, whining and barking.
+
+“Ho! That isn't the way home,” laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth,
+between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining
+pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from
+his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal--so eloquent that at
+last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the
+side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,” snapped the
+man irritably. “See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have
+you got any sense?”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day--they didn't know
+I heard, though.”
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+“There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen.” He paused, and with some difficulty
+reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of
+keys, singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. “Straight
+through the path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key
+will admit you to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know
+what a porte-cochere is?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof
+I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk
+in the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to
+use a telephone?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Never mind Aunt Polly now,” cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+move himself a little.
+
+“Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+one!”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+names, and--”
+
+“Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle
+Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a
+stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to
+come by the path from the house.”
+
+“A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!” shuddered
+Pollyanna. “But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--”
+
+“Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+and stop talking,” moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now
+at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared
+verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she
+sped across the big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door
+under the porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon
+the keys, were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt
+in the lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she
+paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide,
+sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's
+house; the house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master
+entered; the house which sheltered, somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she,
+Pollyanna, was expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and
+telephone the doctor that the master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the
+hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold
+across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the
+fireplace, and touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in
+the middle of the room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly
+tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's
+to “Chilton.” In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end
+of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering
+the doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the
+receiver and drew a long breath of relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had
+left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+“Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?” he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+“Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,” she answered. “As if I'd be here
+if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as
+possible with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were,
+so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.”
+
+“Did you?” smiled the man, grimly. “Well, I can't say I admire your
+taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions.”
+
+“Do you mean--because you're so--cross?”
+
+“Thanks for your frankness. Yes.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!”
+
+“Indeed! How do you know that?” asked the man, trying to change the
+position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+“Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the dog,” she
+added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the dog's sleek
+head near him. “It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks
+better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your head,”
+ she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change
+was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+
+“Well, that is--better,” he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if
+his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself
+almost cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there
+so helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west
+and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she
+hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of
+her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost
+under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the
+motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his ears and whined softly; then he gave a
+short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna
+knew by sight as “Dr. Chilton”--advanced cheerily.
+
+“Well, my little lady, playing nurse?”
+
+“Oh, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “I've only held his head--I haven't
+given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.”
+
+“So am I,” nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+“Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,” she sighed in
+obvious relief. “It's half-past six!”
+
+“I know it,” admitted Pollyanna anxiously; “but I'm not to blame--truly
+I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.”
+
+“She won't have the chance,” retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+“She's gone.”
+
+“Gone!” gasped Pollyanna. “You don't mean that I've driven her away?”
+ Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories
+of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome
+“glad” and forbidden “father” that would spring to her forgetful little
+tongue. “Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?”
+
+“Not much you did,” scoffed Nancy. “Her cousin died suddenly down to
+Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three
+days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house
+tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?”
+
+“Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--”
+ Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. “Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+game,” she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+“I can't help it, Nancy,” she argued with a shake of her head. “It
+must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game
+on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral
+to be glad about.”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“We can be glad 'tain't our'n,” she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+himself.
+
+“Well, maybe 'tis natural,” he sighed. “Of course things you don't know
+about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way
+ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody
+over in India wanted ME?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West--but
+that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+come all the way here as I did!”
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+“Do you think they would--truly--take me?” he asked.
+
+“Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring
+up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time.
+I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait.
+I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs.
+White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most--which is
+kind of funny, isn't it?--when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+Aiders will take you.”
+
+“All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,”
+ put in Jimmy. “I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with
+Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.” He hesitated, then added: “An' I s'pose I
+better stay where I be fur a spell yet--till you hear.”
+
+“Of course,” nodded Pollyanna emphatically. “Then I'll know just where
+to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far enough away for
+that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!” she broke off, suddenly, “DO you
+suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?”
+
+“Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,” grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+said to her aunt one morning:
+
+“Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow
+wouldn't--this once.”
+
+“Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?” sighed her aunt. “You ARE
+the most extraordinary child!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+can't be ORdinary, can you?”
+
+“You certainly can not.”
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,” sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. “You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs.
+Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+awful. They were always fight--I mean, father had--that is, I mean, WE
+had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between any of
+the rest of the Aiders,” corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from
+her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in
+regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+“Yes, yes; well, never mind,” interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. “You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're
+talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!”
+
+“Yes'm,” smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, “I reckon I do, maybe. But you
+see they used to bring me up, and--”
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” interrupted a cold voice. “Now what is it
+about this jelly?”
+
+“Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this once. You see,
+broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+after just once or twice.”
+
+“'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?”
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods,
+you know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and
+the doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came
+away and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs.
+Snow this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him
+instead of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?”
+
+“Yes, yes, I suppose so,” acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. “Who
+did you say he was?”
+
+“The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.”
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+“JOHN PENDLETON!”
+
+“Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+“Do YOU know him?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+“Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross OUTSIDE, you
+know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+in,” finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+
+“Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've
+changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as
+usual. That is all. You may go now.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I
+mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,”
+ said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; “but--I do not care to be sending
+jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.”
+
+“I know, he is cross--outside,” admitted Pollyanna, sadly, “so I suppose
+you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas
+me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.”
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped,
+and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+“Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?”
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+“I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never.”
+
+“Does he know where you--live?”
+
+“Oh, no. I never told him that.”
+
+“Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?”
+
+“I don't think so.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna
+with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+Polly roused herself with a start.
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna,” she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+unlike her own; “you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does
+not think I do!”
+
+“Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly,” exulted Pollyanna, as she flew
+through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when
+she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows
+were open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard,
+and the doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch
+of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but
+there was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the
+clothes opened the door.
+
+“If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,”
+ smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“Thank you,” said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+hand. “Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?”
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+forward.
+
+“Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?” he asked genially. “That will be fine!
+Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+“But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any one?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded the doctor, imperturbably. “But I'm giving orders
+now. I'll take the risk.” Then he added whimsically: “You don't know, of
+course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton
+this afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.”
+
+“Who is she?”
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+“She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients
+do--I'm thankful to say!”
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+“Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?”
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+“I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated
+to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor
+of most of them. All is,” he added, with another whimsical smile, as
+he stepped out on to the porch, “I wish I could prescribe her--and buy
+her--as I would a box of pills;--though if there gets to be many of
+her in the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and
+ditch-digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,”
+ he laughed, picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk,
+and not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in
+its proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+“If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+doctor said I was to--to bring her in.”
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+“See here, didn't I say--” began an angry voice. “Oh, it's you!” it
+broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+
+“Yes, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see,
+at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't
+going to see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might.
+Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?”
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he
+said was “Humph!”
+
+“And I've brought you some jelly,” resumed Pollyanna; “--calf's-foot. I
+hope you like it?” There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+
+“Never ate it.” The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but
+it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+“Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if
+you knew--”
+
+“Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that
+I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay
+here--till doomsday, I guess.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it
+will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than
+we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of course I believe the
+Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would
+if it should come now, and--”
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in at that
+moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very silent--retreat.
+He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath
+of cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+“Aren't you getting a little mixed?” asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+“Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones, you
+know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours won't
+last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of that.”
+
+“Oh, I am,” retorted the man grimly.
+
+“And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.” Pollyanna
+was warming to her task.
+
+“Of course! So fortunate,” sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+“looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't
+a centipede and didn't break fifty!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“Oh, that's the best yet,” she crowed. “I know what a centipede is;
+they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--”
+
+“Oh, of course,” interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+coming back to his voice; “I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I
+suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the
+kitchen!”
+
+“Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have them!”
+
+“Well, I--eh?” he demanded sharply.
+
+“Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em--and
+you lying here like this!”
+
+“As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+matter,” retorted the man, testily, “because I am lying here like
+this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who
+aids and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the
+doctor who eggs 'em both on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+“Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've been
+saving it, too, all this time.”
+
+“When--eh?”
+
+“Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+cents?”
+
+“Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?”
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+“About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for the
+heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one
+of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.”
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+“Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire who
+Nancy is?”
+
+“Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?”
+
+“She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.”
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+“Miss--Polly--Harrington!” he breathed. “You live with--HER!”
+
+“Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know,” faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. “She was her
+sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of us in
+Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid;
+so she took me.”
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose uncertainly
+to her feet.
+
+“I reckon maybe I'd better go now,” she proposed. “I--I hope you'll
+like--the jelly.”
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a
+curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at
+which she marvelled.
+
+“And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece,” he said gently.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+“I--I suppose you know--her.”
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+“Oh, yes; I know her.” He hesitated, then went on, still with that
+curious smile. “But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it was Miss
+Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?” he said slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you
+think she did send it. But I--”
+
+“I thought as much,” vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The
+nurse stood on the steps.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?”
+ asked the doctor smilingly. “I started to drive on a few minutes ago;
+then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,” beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+“Do you?” smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young
+man on the steps. “Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many
+things you 'love' to do--eh?” he added, as they drove briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,” she admitted. “I like
+to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other
+things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+aren't LIVING.”
+
+“No? What are they, then?”
+
+“Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'” sighed Pollyanna, with a
+rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+“Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that.”
+
+“Yes,” responded Pollyanna. “But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.”
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+“After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl,” he said.
+Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at
+his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished,
+uneasily, that she could “do something.” It was this, perhaps, that
+caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+“Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+kind of a business there was.”
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+“'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?” he
+cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+“I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course you're
+glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us, all
+the time.”
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was
+a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room
+office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking
+now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been
+suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again
+would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without
+that new-found exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“God bless you, little girl,” he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: “And I'm thinking,
+after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+needed a draft of that tonic!” All of which puzzled Pollyanna very
+much--until a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter
+from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+“I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,” announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. “He's lovely, Nancy!”
+
+“Is he?”
+
+“Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+gladdest one there was.”
+
+“What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but thinks
+they is, which is worse?” Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad,
+even then. Guess!”
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this
+game of “being glad” quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+studying out Pollyanna's “posers,” too, as she called some of the little
+girl's questions.
+
+“Oh, I know,” she chuckled. “It's just the opposite from what you told
+Mis' Snow.”
+
+“Opposite?” repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+“Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like
+her--all sick, you know.”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks--the
+sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,” finished Nancy in triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+“Why, y-yes,” she admitted. “Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it. It
+isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but--You do play
+the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,” she sighed, as she went into the
+house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+“Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?”
+ questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?”
+
+“Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?”
+
+“He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and--”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+“Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?”
+
+“Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.”
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+“You TOLD him I didn't!”
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+voice.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!”
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+“I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different matter from
+TELLING him outright that I did not send it.” And she turned vexedly
+away.
+
+“Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,” sighed Pollyanna,
+as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by
+the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened
+pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+“Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,” she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+sitting room.
+
+“Got what, you impossible child?”
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+“And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
+mean,” she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
+above her ears. “But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
+can't hide the black part.”
+
+“Pollyanna, what does all this mean?” demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+
+“No, no--please, Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
+of distressed appeal. “Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
+about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
+pretty!”
+
+“Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?”
+
+“But it isn't nonsense,” urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
+her aunt's remarks. “You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
+like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+be ever so much prettier than she was!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
+because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+“loved” to see her “pretty”?) “Pollyanna, you did not answer my
+question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?”
+
+“Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
+and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
+I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
+you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
+as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
+let me do your hair, won't you?”
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
+upon her, she knew.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+them, I was so ashamed! I--”
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+“You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,” she crowed
+triumphantly; “and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
+sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
+didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
+wait just where you are. I'll get a comb.”
+
+“But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the
+little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+“Oh, did you come up here?” Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+Polly's own room. “That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit
+down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, I--I--”
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her
+hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle
+fingers.
+
+“Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,” prattled Pollyanna; “and there's
+so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need
+more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks
+can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it--and
+surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make
+you so pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair.
+“I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to
+look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much
+happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other
+kind I'm so sorry for them.”
+
+“But--but--”
+
+“And I just love to do folks' hair,” purred Pollyanna, contentedly. “I
+did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there wasn't any of them so
+nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked
+just lovely one day when I dressed her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell.
+Now your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you
+just a minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!” she finished, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+hair up properly again. As for “peeking” just as if she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in
+the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a flush of
+rosy color to her cheeks that--she only flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay
+in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the ears in
+wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+
+“Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?” she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.”
+
+“But, Pollyanna,” began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, “you
+must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you doing?” she gasped,
+as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she
+was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful
+lace shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+should not be “dressed up.”
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled
+her aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose
+blooming on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+
+“Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?” recoiled
+Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. “Pollyanna, I shall
+not--”
+
+“It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time,” panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and
+thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. “There!”
+ she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit
+of linen far from her. “Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I
+dressed you up!”
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through
+the open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+she leaned forward.
+
+“Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.”
+
+“Yes,” smiled the doctor, a little gravely. “Will you come down,
+please?”
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+“Pollyanna, how could you?” moaned the woman. “To think of your rigging
+me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!”
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+“But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--”
+
+“'Lovely'!” scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!”
+
+“Stay? Like this? As if I would!” And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+fingers.
+
+“O dear! And you did look so pretty,” almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+“I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled,” announced the doctor. “Will you go?”
+
+“You mean--an errand--to the drug store?” asked Pollyanna, a little
+uncertainly. “I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+“Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day,
+if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down
+after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before
+six o'clock.”
+
+“I'd love to!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober
+face.
+
+“Didn't--your aunt want you to go?” asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+“Y-yes,” sighed Pollyanna. “She--she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+afraid.”
+
+“Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!”
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+“Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone before.'”
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For
+some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+“Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the window of
+the sun parlor?”
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed
+her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed
+her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think
+she looked just lovely?”
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was
+so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+“Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely.”
+
+“Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,” nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+“Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+her--that.”
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+“But she might not be,” cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+“That's so--maybe she wouldn't,” she sighed. “I remember now; 'twas
+'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke afterwards about her
+being seen in that rig.”
+
+“I thought as much,” declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+“Still, I don't see why,” maintained Pollyanna, “--when she looked so
+pretty!”
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they
+were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a
+broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.”
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see
+why I shouldn't be, either.”
+
+“Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when
+you found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't
+think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would
+admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such
+ungrateful treatment as that!”
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+“But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad your leg
+was broken, of course,” she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+“I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while,
+doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you
+a very brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for
+the jelly, too,” he added in a lighter voice.
+
+“Did you like it?” asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+“Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that Aunt Polly
+DIDN'T send, is there?” he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir.” She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. “Please,
+Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+Polly did NOT send the jelly.”
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and
+turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous
+fretfulness.
+
+“Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see
+me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room where the
+telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of
+the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated'
+it to somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too
+heavy for you to carry, I think.”
+
+“Oh, I'm awfully strong,” declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang
+to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was
+full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+travel--and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether
+it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little
+jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+murmured wistfully:
+
+“Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to
+bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in
+that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.”
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself,
+and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides
+the wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking
+of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western
+town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+“Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going to tell
+you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were,
+the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded
+me of--of something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said
+to myself that I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the
+doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+
+“But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that--that
+the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+Will you--little girl?”
+
+“Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,” breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. “I'd
+love to come!”
+
+“Thank you,” said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+more wonderful things it contained.
+
+“And ter think,” sighed Nancy, “that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he never talks ter no
+one--no one!”
+
+“Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,” demurred Pollyanna, with
+quick loyalty. “I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either.
+They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him
+very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so
+afraid he'd think she did send it!”
+
+“Probably she didn't call him no duty,” shrugged Nancy. “But what beats
+me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna--meanin' no
+offence ter you, of course--but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally
+takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+“But he did, Nancy,” she nodded, “only I reckon even he didn't want
+to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he
+just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of
+something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--”
+
+“What's that?” interrupted Nancy, excitedly. “He said you reminded him
+of something he wanted to forget?”
+
+“Yes. But afterwards--”
+
+“What was it?” Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+“He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.”
+
+“THE MYSTERY!” breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. “That's why he
+took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just
+like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em had mysteries and things just
+like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+tell me everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!”
+
+“But he didn't,” cried Pollyanna, “not till _I_ talked to HIM, first.
+And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and--”
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!” she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again.
+“Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true,” she urged excitedly.
+“It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+to-day.”
+
+“I thought as much,” triumphed Nancy. “And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+jelly herself, would she?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“And you told him she didn't send it?”
+
+“Why, yes; I--”
+
+“And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you
+was her niece. He did that, didn't he?”
+
+“Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly,” admitted
+Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+“Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+HARRINGTON'S LOVER!” she announced impressively, but with a furtive
+glance over her shoulder.
+
+“Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,” objected Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+“Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!”
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+“It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had
+had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a lover! But
+Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in
+his life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never
+speak ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss
+Polly's niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of
+somethin' he wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas
+Miss Polly!--an' her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why,
+Miss Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!”
+
+“Oh-h!” breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. “But, Nancy, I
+should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both
+of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to
+make up!”
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+“I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You
+ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the
+world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n,
+it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he
+cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't she--”
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about
+whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+“I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it--so they
+WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some--Miss
+Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!”
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her
+visits were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her
+there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was
+there, he seemed scarcely any the happier for her presence--at least, so
+Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+and “regulatings” of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she was never sure that she would
+not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt
+look that always pained her; and she was never sure which--if any--of
+her words had brought it there. As for telling him the “glad game,” and
+trying to get him to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when
+she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
+her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
+conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
+she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
+mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
+to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
+sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
+stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
+tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
+would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
+about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
+the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
+with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
+Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
+Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+“If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,” Aunt Polly
+said.
+
+“Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,” gurgled Pollyanna. “I'd love to
+have Dr. Chilton come to see me!”
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+“It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,” Miss Polly said sternly. “Dr.
+Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
+are worse.”
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+
+“And I'm so glad, too,” Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. “Of
+course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
+and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
+really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
+you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,” she finished wistfully.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings,” reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
+then she sighed:
+
+“I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt Polly!” But her aunt
+was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and
+green edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped
+short in awed delight.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in to
+pay you a visit!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly.
+“Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?” she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+sorts with the world this morning.
+
+“Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+thermometer in the window,” he said wearily. “The sun shouldn't strike
+it at all but it does in the morning.”
+
+“Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that?
+My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!”
+
+“Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,” laughed the man.
+“How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was,
+if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?”
+
+“I shouldn't care,” breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+brilliant band of colors across the pillow. “Just as if anybody'd care
+when they were living all the time in a rainbow!”
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at
+his side.
+
+“Nora,” he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, “bring
+me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front
+drawing-room.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute
+she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she
+advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants
+encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+
+“Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,” directed the man. “Now
+get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window
+there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight
+across the window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,” he
+said, when she had carried out his directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.”
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by
+side, on the bed.
+
+“Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow--I
+don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!”
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up
+the rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a
+low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed
+itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+“Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!” breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+“I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't
+you?” she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not
+know what she was talking about. “Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those
+things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow
+and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think
+even Aunt Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she
+lived in a rainbow like that. Don't you?”
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+“Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight
+to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come, now, really,
+what do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.”
+
+“Suppose you tell me, then.”
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from
+the very first--from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+window.
+
+“And that's all,” she sighed, when she had finished. “And now you know
+why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+unsteadily:
+
+“Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+yourself, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!”
+
+“Don't you?” smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+“No,” she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: “I'm afraid,
+Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
+Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!”
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
+had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
+were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
+confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
+her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
+old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
+course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
+of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+“See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?” he
+asked, a little impatiently. “I don't see anything of you, nowadays.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+“I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,” she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+“Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
+be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
+around,” he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
+shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
+library to-day.
+
+“Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
+are,” pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
+“You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
+you don't!”
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+“That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?”
+
+“But I do. I want you. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!”
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+“You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me,” he
+finished more gently. “Would you come--if she did?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+“But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me,” she began slowly; “and she
+took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--”
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time,
+when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+“Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in
+our home all the long years to come.”
+
+“Yes,” pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+“But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been
+a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+you come, my dear?”
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,” sighed the little girl. “Now you
+can take us both, and everything will be lovely.”
+
+“Take--you--both?” repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+“Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will
+be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come,
+of course.”
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+“Aunt Polly come--HERE!”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+“Would you rather go THERE?” she asked. “Of course the house isn't quite
+so pretty, but it's nearer--”
+
+“Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?” asked the man, very gently now.
+
+“Why, about where we're going to live, of course,” rejoined Pollyanna,
+in obvious surprise. “I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it
+was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years
+to make a home, and--”
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at
+his side.
+
+“The doctor, sir,” said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+“Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you--yet,” he
+begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+
+“Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!” she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+“Why, what's up?” demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on
+his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+“Overdose of your--tonic, I guess,” he laughed, as he noted the doctor's
+eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook
+her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+
+“Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,” he suggested. “I want
+to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to
+tell you,” he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.
+“Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this
+afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+“Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.”
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+“I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,” he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. “You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+lady.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it was
+Aunt Polly.”
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+“Your--aunt!” he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+“Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.
+I--I'm going to tell you,” she burst out, with sudden decision. “He
+said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He
+meant not to mention it to HER.”
+
+“HER?”
+
+“Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself
+instead of having me do it--lovers, so!”
+
+“Lovers!” As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as
+if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna, happily. “That's the story-part, you see. I
+didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.”
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to
+his lap.
+
+“Oh! No; I--didn't know,” he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+“Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked
+me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly
+like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about
+the woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up
+the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will
+both go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course
+Aunt Polly doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.”
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+
+“Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to see you,
+Pollyanna,” he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.
+
+“There's Aunt Polly now in the window,” cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+later: “Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!”
+
+“No; she isn't there--now,” said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost
+their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+afternoon.
+
+“Pollyanna,” he began at once. “I've been trying all night to puzzle
+out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my wanting your Aunt
+Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?”
+
+“Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you
+still felt that way now.”
+
+“Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?”
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+eyes.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!”
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+“Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't know.”
+
+“Then you--weren't lovers?” Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+
+“Never!”
+
+“And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?”
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+
+“O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,” almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+“I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly.”
+
+“And you won't--now?” The man asked the question without turning his
+head.
+
+“Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.”
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+“Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's. And--it was
+your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.”
+
+“My mother's!”
+
+“Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+that I do--now.” John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He
+was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and
+frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. “I loved
+your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after a time she went away
+with--your father. I did not know until then how much I did--care. The
+whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and--But,
+never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable,
+unloved old man--though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then,
+One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you
+danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
+purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never wanted to
+see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your mother. But--you
+know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you
+always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?”
+
+“But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's eyes were
+blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+“What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that
+I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little
+girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make you glad, too, my
+dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last
+cent, should go to make you happy.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that money
+you've saved for the heathen!”
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna
+was still talking.
+
+“Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me
+to make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving
+them things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look
+at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
+Nancy on her birthday, and--”
+
+“Yes, yes--never mind about all that,” interrupted the man. His face
+was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for “giving
+things” that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. “That's all
+nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what there was, was because of you.
+YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,” he repeated, in answer to
+the shocked denial in her face. “And that only goes to prove all the
+more how I need you, little girl,” he added, his voice softening into
+tender pleading once more. “If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.”
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+“Aunt Polly has been so good to me,” she began; but the man interrupted
+her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's
+nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+
+“Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do,” he contested.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--”
+
+“Glad!” interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. “I'll
+wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything! Oh, she does
+her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience with
+her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of friends
+for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one knows
+her--and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to
+be. As for your coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let
+you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!” he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+“All right. I'll ask her,” she said wistfully. “Of course I don't mean
+that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but--” She
+did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+added: “Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;--'cause then
+I supposed SHE was wanted, too.”
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+“Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention
+it--yesterday.”
+
+“I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.”
+
+“The doctor!” cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+“Not--Dr.--Chilton?”
+
+“Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then
+he sat up with sudden interest. “And what did Dr. Chilton say?” he
+asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+imagine you did want to see me.”
+
+“Oh, did he, indeed!” answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered
+why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching
+thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John
+Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that
+time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was
+not so imminent.
+
+“Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,” announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+critically. “I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Was she?” murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her
+turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+“You don't seem ter notice what I said,” she observed aggrievedly. “I
+said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so
+soon to ask her aunt. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.”
+
+“Well, I'm glad,” retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. “I am, I am.”
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+“GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the
+way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!” she objected.
+
+“There wa'n't no game in it,” retorted Nancy. “Never thought of it. YOU
+don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+child!”
+
+“Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel,” maintained
+Pollyanna. “What else can it mean?”
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+“Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+duty by ye all the time.”
+
+“Why, Nancy,” demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, “Aunt Polly always
+does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!” Unconsciously Pollyanna
+repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's somethin'
+more, now, since you came.”
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+“There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,” she sighed. “Do you
+think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind--if if I wasn't
+here any more?”
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded
+it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how she could answer it
+honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in
+the face of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the
+afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy only welcomed the question with open
+arms. She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set
+the love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+
+“Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?” cried
+Nancy, indignantly. “As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+remember how at first she hated ter have--”
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+“And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,” rushed on
+Nancy, breathlessly. “It's little ways she has, that shows how you've
+been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down--the cat, and the dog, and
+the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here,” finished
+Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide
+the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was not
+quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am that
+Aunt Polly--wants me!”
+
+“As if I'd leave her now!” thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs
+to her room a little later. “I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt
+Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt
+Polly--to want to live with ME!”
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an
+easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because he seemed to be so
+sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that
+had made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of
+her mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great
+gray house as it would be after its master was well again, with its
+silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart
+ached for his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be
+found who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog
+at his feet.
+
+“Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of
+my life?” asked the man, gently.
+
+“Oh, yes,” cried Pollyanna. “I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+thing for you to do, and--”
+
+“With--YOU?” asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern at
+the corners.
+
+“N-no; but--”
+
+“Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!” interrupted a voice deep with
+emotion.
+
+“I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?”
+
+“I--I didn't ask her,” stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved
+gaze of her friend.
+
+“So you didn't even ask her!”
+
+“I couldn't, sir--truly,” faltered Pollyanna. “You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I want to
+stay, too,” she confessed bravely. “You don't know how good she's been
+to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad
+about things--lots of things. And you know she never used to be. You
+said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+“No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now,” he said. “I won't
+ask you--again.” The last word was so low it was almost inaudible; but
+Pollyanna heard.
+
+“Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,” she reminded him eagerly.
+“There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there is!”
+
+“Not for me, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for
+you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another one.”
+
+“As if I would have any but you!” resented an indignant voice.
+
+“But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of the
+prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the heathen,
+and--”
+
+“Pollyanna!” interrupted the man, savagely. “Once for all let us end
+that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There
+is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life.
+There!”
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected--the
+grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There
+was only surprised joy.
+
+“Oh, oh!” she cried, clapping her hands. “I'm so glad! That is,” she
+corrected, coloring distressfully, “I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want
+the little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm
+glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!”
+
+“Take--WHO?”
+
+“Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now--when he hears of
+this--he'll be so glad!”
+
+“Will he? Well, I won't,” ejaculated the man, decisively. “Pollyanna,
+this is sheer nonsense!”
+
+“You don't mean--you won't take him?”
+
+“I certainly do mean just that.”
+
+“But he'd be a lovely child's presence,” faltered Pollyanna. She was
+almost crying now. “And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy 'round.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined the man; “but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness.”
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+“Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!”
+
+“SKELETON?”
+
+“Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.”
+
+“Why, what--” Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+“Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know,” he said
+gently. “In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we aren't always willing
+to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to--our skeletons,
+Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about this nice
+little boy.” And Pollyanna told him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night
+she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the
+great house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+
+“And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,” sighed Pollyanna, as
+she said good-by. “I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home--and folks
+that care, you know.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+His children of men had wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse;
+until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had
+prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own
+that matters were no better, but rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most
+energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society
+because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a
+devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo
+work given to a fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor
+Society was in a ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its
+officers. As to the Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its
+superintendent and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and
+that had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done--and
+done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True,
+a few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+(God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+suffering; and must suffer still more unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled
+into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on
+which he had determined to speak:
+
+“'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut
+up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves,
+neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall
+receive the greater damnation.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+leave the other undone.'”
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it? Dare
+he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words that
+would follow--his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had pleaded
+earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed--oh, how earnestly he
+longed!--to take now, in this crisis, the right step. But was this--the
+right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down
+at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+“Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or anything,
+have you?” she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to
+smile.
+
+“No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting.”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. “That's all right, then.
+You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him--but he was
+lying down, though. And you are sitting up.”
+
+“Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that doctors can
+mend.”
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+“I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel like
+that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally. You see
+there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+“Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.”
+
+“Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+don't know all the family histories.”
+
+“Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled
+some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at
+them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance
+away--and it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead.
+Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+
+“It--it's a nice day,” she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+start.
+
+“What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day.”
+
+“And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,” observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. “Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said
+he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires,
+don't you?”
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+she tried again--by a new route.
+
+“Do You like being a minister?”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+“Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?”
+
+“Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+used to look like that--sometimes.”
+
+“Did he?” The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+“Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+minister.”
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Well--what did he say?”
+
+“Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too,
+that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing
+texts.”
+
+“The--WHAT?” The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+“Well, that's what father used to call 'em,” she laughed. “Of course the
+Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in
+the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that,
+you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he
+counted 'em. There were eight hundred of 'em.”
+
+“Eight hundred!”
+
+“Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why father
+named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'”
+
+“Oh!” There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen
+to the words on the top paper in his hands--“But woe unto you, scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!” “And so your father--liked those 'rejoicing
+texts,'” he murmured.
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. “He said he felt better right
+away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+want us to do it--SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done it
+more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when
+they DIDN'T AGREE about something,” corrected Pollyanna, hastily.
+“Why, it was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the
+game--he began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it.”
+
+“And what game might that be?” asked the minister.
+
+“About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As
+I said, he began with me on the crutches.” And once more Pollyanna
+told her story--this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister
+wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking.
+Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper--his sermon notes.
+Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper,
+blank--his sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of
+what he had written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination
+he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister
+who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was
+poring over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to “rejoice and be glad.”
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under
+his hand.
+
+“Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23,” he wrote; then, with a gesture of
+impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+
+“A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to
+fill his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to
+go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went.
+Why? Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to
+do the right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said
+to your mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill
+that woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as
+Tom was concerned!”
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+somewhere else:
+
+“What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting
+powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always
+harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out
+of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL
+self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful,
+helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole
+town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If
+a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too,
+before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his neighbors
+will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for
+the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the
+good--you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to
+fill that woodbox--then watch him start, alert and interested!”
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was
+on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth.
+Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in
+the chair at his desk.
+
+“God helping me, I'll do it!” he cried softly. “I'll tell all my Toms
+I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do,
+and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't
+have TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!” And he picked up his
+sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him,
+so that on one side of his chair lay “But woe unto you,” and on the
+other, “scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” while across the smooth
+white paper before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one
+black line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23.
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was
+a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and
+child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight
+hundred:
+
+“Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+that are upright in heart.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office
+to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it
+chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's
+office.
+
+“I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?” she
+said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Yes--such as 'tis,” he answered, as he wrote something on the pad
+of paper in his hand; “but it's a pretty poor apology for a home,
+Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+understanding.
+
+“I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to
+make a home,” she said.
+
+“Eh?” The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman's
+hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a
+woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean--if
+Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him.”
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+does he?” he asked evasively.
+
+“Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?”
+
+“Why don't I--what?” The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+“Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot.” Pollyanna's face
+showed suddenly a painful color. “I suppose I ought to tell you. It
+wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we--we
+aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was--but I made a
+mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,” she finished anxiously.
+
+“No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor, a little
+queerly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “You see
+you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of
+funny when I said I'd told YOU.”
+
+“Did he?” The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+“Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+Chilton?”
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+“They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“But I should think you could get 'em,” she argued. The flattering
+emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+“Thank you,” laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+again: “I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite
+so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown themselves to be
+so--obliging,” he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get somebody's hand
+and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and couldn't, did you?”
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now
+to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the
+directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured soberly, as she turned toward
+the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly
+alight: “Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you
+wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!”
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe
+distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was
+there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame
+that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp
+and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by
+a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly
+and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone,
+Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+“And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,” Nancy was
+sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was
+closeted in the hushed room; “ye didn't need ter more'n look at her
+aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands
+don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back
+the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom
+they don't, they don't!”
+
+“Is she hurt--bad?” The old man's voice shook.
+
+“There ain't no tellin',” sobbed Nancy. “She lay back that white an'
+still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead--an'
+Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept up such a
+listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!”
+
+“Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--” Old Tom's
+face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+“I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an'
+strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I
+always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I did, I did!”
+
+“But where is she hurt?”
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy. “There's a little cut on
+her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly says. She says
+she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.”
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+“I guess you mean internally, Nancy,” he said dryly. “She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't guess
+Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.”
+
+“Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy, with a shake of
+her head as she turned away. “Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it
+till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do--the
+biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!” she wailed, wringing her hands
+helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After
+he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn
+looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness,
+but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be
+expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night.
+That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+eyes and realized where she was.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,” she moaned, falling
+back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+
+“No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet,” soothed her aunt quickly, but very
+quietly.
+
+“But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?”
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+“Tell her,” the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+scarcely let her speak.
+
+“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran.” Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her
+hand to her forehead. “Why, it's--done up, and it--hurts!”
+
+“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest.”
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so--so
+queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!”
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to
+her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+
+“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I'm sure
+I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+swallow these little white pills for me.”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+“But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I want to
+get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?”
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled
+cry.
+
+“To-morrow?” smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+“Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna.
+But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what
+THEY'LL do.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; “but I MUST go to
+school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then, you know.”
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she
+had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school “to-morrow,” nor the “day after
+to-morrow.” Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily
+when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to
+her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly
+until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened
+somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be
+told all over again what had occurred.
+
+“And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,” she sighed at last. “Well,
+I'm glad of that.”
+
+“G-glad, Pollyanna?” asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+“Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+lifelong-invalids don't.”
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her
+face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+“I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,” she murmured
+contentedly. “That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't
+whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm glad 'tisn't
+appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're catching--measles are, I
+mean--and they wouldn't let you stay here.”
+
+“You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear,” faltered Aunt
+Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've been
+looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr. Pendleton
+gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said yet. I
+don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.”
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+“Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+times--and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'--by folks that
+belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me that; and
+of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged
+to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!”
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes
+were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room
+through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,” she panted. “You couldn't
+guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!”
+
+“Then I cal'late I won't try,” retorted the man, grimly, “specially as
+I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+first off, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+mistress? Who, I say?”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“There's no tellin',” he declared.
+
+“Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!”
+
+“Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.”
+
+“Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all! An'
+the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him, jest as
+if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter no
+one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on HER!”
+
+“Well, why not?” demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+“As if you didn't know better'n me!” she derided.
+
+“Eh?”
+
+“Oh, you needn't be so innercent,” she retorted with mock indignation;
+“--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!”
+
+“What do ye mean?”
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a
+step nearer to the old man.
+
+“Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the
+first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and
+I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five--an'
+no four at all, at all!”
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+“If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense,” he declared testily. “I never was no hand for figgers.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, it's this,” she explained. “I heard somethin' that made me think
+him an' Miss Polly was lovers.”
+
+“MR. PENDLETON!” Old Tom straightened up.
+
+“Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he
+was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never mind that part,”
+ she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna
+not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+“Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's
+been hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their
+names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.”
+
+“Yes, I remember,” nodded Old Tom. “It was three or four years after
+Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss
+Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter
+be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a little--she hated that minister
+chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter
+make trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.”
+
+“Runnin' after any man--her!” interjected Nancy.
+
+“I know it; but they did,” declared Old Tom, “and of course no gal of
+any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an'
+the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't
+have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to
+turn bitter at the core.”
+
+“Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,” rejoined Nancy; “an' that's
+why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the
+door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went
+an' told her.”
+
+“What did she say?” Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+“Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and I
+was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+out here an' told you,” finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+toward the house.
+
+“Humph!” grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious “parlor” of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of
+Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was
+coldly reserved.
+
+“I called to ask for--Pollyanna,” he began at once, a little brusquely.
+
+“Thank you. She is about the same,” said Miss Polly.
+
+“And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?” His voice was not quite
+steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+“I can't, I wish I could!”
+
+“You mean--you don't know?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But--the doctor?”
+
+“Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.”
+
+“But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?”
+
+“A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury to the
+spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips down.”
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily,
+he asked:
+
+“And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?”
+
+“She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I CAN'T tell
+her.”
+
+“But she must know--something!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture
+that had become so common to her of late.
+
+“Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+the other--doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it--it seems
+as if I should--die!”
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back
+to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her
+presence: “Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+control his voice:
+
+“I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me.”
+
+“With YOU!--Pollyanna!”
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+“Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her my
+heir, of course.”
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to
+her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough
+and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+
+“I am very fond of Pollyanna,” the man was continuing. “I am fond of
+her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood ready to give
+Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.”
+
+“LOVE.” Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child
+in the first place--and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: “I love to be called
+'dear' by folks that belong to you!” And it was this love-hungry little
+girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five
+years:--and she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking
+heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized
+something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+“Well?” she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+“She would not come,” he answered.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She
+wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to
+stay,” he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+“When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,” said a trembling voice.
+“Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
+the specialist.
+
+“Pollyanna, my dear,” she began gently, “we have decided that we want
+another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know.”
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
+wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
+seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!”
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+“Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
+about--about hurts like yours.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.”
+
+“But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+Chilton--truly I would!”
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
+stern decisiveness:
+
+“But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
+anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
+speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
+believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
+great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.”
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--”
+
+“WHAT, Pollyanna?” Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
+were very red, too.
+
+“I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,” sighed
+Pollyanna, “seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.”
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
+feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+“I am very sorry, Pollyanna,” she said, a little stiffly; “but I'm
+afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
+already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.”
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come “to-morrow.”
+ At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
+the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--“which would be so
+easy now, you know.”
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said “no, dear,” very
+decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+niece.
+
+“I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,” Nancy
+said to Old Tom one morning. “There don't seem ter be a minute in the
+day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
+what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+Miss Pollyanna!
+
+“An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
+the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
+down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
+besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
+didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
+hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
+all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
+wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
+child!”
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+“Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,” he observed
+dryly.
+
+“'Course she ain't,” retorted Nancy, indignantly. “She looks like
+FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--”
+
+“Keerful, now, Nancy!” interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. “You
+know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
+like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
+Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck.”
+
+“I told ye so,” nodded the man. “I told ye she wa'n't--old.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
+she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!”
+
+“Hain't ye?” asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. “Well, I
+guess ye won't then from me.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,” wheedled the girl. “Ye see, there ain't
+many folks here that I CAN ask.”
+
+“Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',” grinned
+Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. “How is she,
+ter-day--the little gal?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+“Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
+see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
+an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
+or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
+achin'.”
+
+“I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!” nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+“She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?”
+
+“Oh, yes. She told me long ago.” The old man hesitated, then went on,
+his lips twitching a little. “I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
+bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?”
+
+“I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
+ter be glad about!”
+
+“She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.”
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+“Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
+'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
+speak of--her aunt.”
+
+“MISS POLLY!”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+than I have,” she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+“I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her,” he
+explained with dignity.
+
+“Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN,” retorted Nancy. “I ain't sayin'
+what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
+she'd take ter playin' it herself!”
+
+“But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,” said
+Tom.
+
+“Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,” rejoined Nancy. “Miss Pollyanna told
+me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.”
+
+“Oh, I see, I see.” The old man nodded his head slowly. “They was always
+bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
+away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
+him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
+a bad mess,” he sighed, as he turned away.
+
+“Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round,” sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
+went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
+the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
+petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
+and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
+innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
+were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
+pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
+so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
+to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
+on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+realize that all this “gladness” was in the future, not the present.
+Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected,
+he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+
+“You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,” she added engagingly.
+
+“YOUR doctor?” Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren,
+talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small,
+brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,” smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. “Dr.
+Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh-h!” said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+“Yes.” Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+“You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about--about broken
+legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+you?”
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite translate.
+
+“Only time can tell that, little girl,” he said gently; then he turned a
+grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly,
+if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+“meow” of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply
+Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+“Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will NEVER WALK
+again!”
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+terrified “Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!” Then Miss Polly, seeing the open
+door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan
+and--for the first time in her life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking “She heard!” stumbled toward the open door.
+The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay--he had
+caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was
+not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the
+door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes,
+awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms
+back to unhappy consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the
+bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed
+little girl.
+
+“Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+please!”
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+pale.
+
+“She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little later.
+What is it? Can't I--get it?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't
+true--'tisn't true!”
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent
+an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+mean I can't ever--walk again?”
+
+“There, there, dear--don't, don't!” choked the nurse. “Perhaps he didn't
+know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could happen,
+you know.”
+
+“But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody
+else about--about broken legs like mine!”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't, dear.”
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. “But I can't help thinking about
+it,” she sobbed. “It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt,
+how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or
+anybody?” She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. “Why, Miss Hunt, if
+I can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not know “the game;” but she did know that her patient
+must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+with the quieting powder ready.
+
+“There, there, dear, just take this,” she soothed; “and by and by we'll
+be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half
+as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.”
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+“I know; that sounds like things father used to say,” faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. “He said there was always something
+about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard
+he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+that, that could be worse--do you?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she
+felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then
+to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and
+its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.
+She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few
+minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+
+“I'm Nancy, sir,” she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. “Miss Harrington
+sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+anxiety that lay behind that short “well?”
+
+“It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,” she choked.
+
+“You don't mean--” He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+“Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never.”
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+“Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!”
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+
+“It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism
+girl!”
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+“She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?”
+
+“But she does, sir.” sobbed Nancy, “an' that's what makes it all the
+harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,” apologized the
+girl, hurriedly. “It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way.”
+
+“Poor--little--girl!” sighed the man again.
+
+“Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,” choked Nancy. “I
+hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up
+both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps
+thinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,
+too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about her
+game, though,” broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+
+“The 'glad game'?” asked the man. “Oh, yes; she told me of that.”
+
+“Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.
+But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.
+She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'
+again, ter be glad about.”
+
+“Well, why should she?” retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+“That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD be
+easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remind
+her.”
+
+“To remind her! Of what?” John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+impatient.
+
+“Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb just
+cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy ter
+TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing when
+you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.”
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+eyes.
+
+“Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+nicer ter play when--when it was hard,” resumed Nancy, in a dull voice.
+“But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' I
+must be goin', now, sir,” she broke off abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+“I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Bean
+again, I s'pose, sir, could I?”
+
+“I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him,” observed the man a
+little shortly. “Why?”
+
+“Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she was
+feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She said
+she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well that
+day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nice
+child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; but
+I didn't, sir.”
+
+“Yes, I know--what she means.”
+
+“All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,
+she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And
+now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!”
+ And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never
+walk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.
+Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had
+always a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the “game” that
+Pollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smiling
+face be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery little
+voice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed
+unbelievable, impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+men talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talking
+nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,
+came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what had
+come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play
+the game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that her
+niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+injured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was these
+messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+
+“I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,” he began almost harshly.
+“But can--nothing be done?”
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+“Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying
+them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost no
+hope.”
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face was
+white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+presence. At the door he turned.
+
+“I have a message for Pollyanna,” he said. “Will you tell her, please,
+that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.
+Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,
+probably.”
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+
+“You will adopt Jimmy Bean!” she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+“Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+would be--GLAD!”
+
+“Why, of--of course,” faltered Miss Polly.
+
+“Thank you,” bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has
+just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his
+little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.”
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+“Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+presence.”
+
+“The--what?”
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told
+her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly she
+would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of
+leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+“The child's presence,” stammered Pollyanna, hastily. “Mr. Pendleton
+told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's
+presence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child's
+presence.”
+
+“Oh, I--see,” said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more than
+Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probably
+brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was
+asking HER to be the “child's presence,” which was to transform his
+great pile of gray stone into a home. “I see,” she finished, her eyes
+stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton
+house and its master.
+
+“Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or a
+child's presence, to make a home, you know,” she remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+“DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?”
+
+“He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--not
+a home.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+“So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, and
+have a home.”
+
+“Pollyanna!” Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+color.
+
+“Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful.”
+
+“What did he--say?” Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of some
+force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+“He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+couldn't always get 'em for the asking.”
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.”
+
+“Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?”
+
+“Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said
+that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world
+if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the
+matter?” Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+
+“Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,” said Aunt
+Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow
+called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly
+entered the room.
+
+“I--I came to inquire for the little girl,” she stammered.
+
+“You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?” rejoined
+Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+“That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+Pollyanna,” hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. “We
+think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too--for mother, you
+know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how
+now she couldn't play it herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see
+how she CAN, either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the
+things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about the
+game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--” Milly stopped
+helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was “queer,”
+ but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words.
+When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+“I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want
+me to tell my niece?”
+
+“Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,” answered the girl, feverishly.
+“Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I
+want her to know HOW different she is--and me, too. I'm different. I've
+been trying to play it--the game--a little.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+“game,” but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with
+nervous volubility.
+
+“You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was always
+wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+much--under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up,
+and she takes interest in things--how she looks, and her nightdress, and
+all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things--reins and baby
+blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD
+to think she can do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you
+know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didn't DO
+something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do something--to
+knit, you know. And you can't think what a different room it is now,
+what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the
+window that SHE gave her--why, it actually makes you feel BETTER just to
+go in there now; and before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark
+and gloomy, and mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+“And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand
+it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that
+we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that
+she knew us. And--and that's all,” sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+feet. “You'll tell her?”
+
+“Why, of course,” murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of
+many; and always there were the messages--the messages which were in
+some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle
+over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew
+her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was always in black.
+To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror
+at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+“I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps.”
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+“Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message,” she stammered.
+
+“Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.”
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+“Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS,” she said, just
+touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's ill-concealed
+look of surprise, she added: “The little girl has been trying for so
+long to make me wear--some color, that I thought she'd be--glad to know
+I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would.
+You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all--” Mrs. Benton
+shook her head and turned away. “If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand.” And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at least, she
+wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered
+vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as
+“Mrs. Tarbell.”
+
+“I'm a stranger to you, of course,” she began at once. “But I'm not a
+stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was
+on these walks that I've met your niece--she's such a dear little girl!
+I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very
+sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me
+of--my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear
+of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never
+walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any
+longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you.”
+
+“You are very kind,” murmured Miss Polly.
+
+“But it is you who are to be kind,” demurred the other. “I--I want you
+to give her a message from me. Will you?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I
+know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if you'll pardon me
+I'd rather not explain.” Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the
+smile left her eyes. “Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt
+that I must tell--her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+rudeness in my call,” she begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's
+at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean--we used to.”
+ Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+“We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you--but she
+wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+is glad now.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+“Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?”
+
+“Why, it's the game, and--” Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her
+lips.
+
+“What game?”
+
+“N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I tell
+other things that--that I'm not to speak of.”
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the
+shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks
+and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation--but
+whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been
+crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the
+little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in
+the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one
+was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was
+still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+“My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some of the
+things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and--and it broke me
+all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and--and
+I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd
+do more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred
+years. But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can
+make the best use of 'em, I notice.”
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+still husky.
+
+“Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl
+of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by
+often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the
+kids and talked to me--and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like
+it, and to like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks
+don't generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss
+Harrington, there wouldn't be so many--of my kind,” she added, with
+sudden bitterness.
+
+“Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't know--nor can't know,
+I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things--that I don't want
+her to know.
+
+“But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more
+ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and me, and ready
+for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the
+kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's
+never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and
+sit on our doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be
+glad. She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she
+told us why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play
+it.
+
+“Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+her, because she can't play it no more--that there's nothing to be glad
+about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day--that maybe she can be
+a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other, and
+play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+feel kind of bad--at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+Anyhow, we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?”
+
+“Yes, I will tell her,” promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then,
+with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. “And
+thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson,” she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits
+of the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary
+experience of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping
+point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress
+speak so sternly.
+
+“Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with
+it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to
+her that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town
+are putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to
+like something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I
+tried to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make
+much headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one
+of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?”
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+“It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin'
+ter make her a little glad, too.”
+
+“Glad of what?”
+
+“Just glad! That's the game.”
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+“There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?”
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+the eye.
+
+“I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her
+ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when
+she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would.
+It seems 'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin'
+but what there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an'
+that she could be glad about them crutches.”
+
+“Glad for--CRUTCHES!” Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was thinking of
+the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+“Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she
+said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she DIDN'T NEED
+'EM.”
+
+“Oh-h!” cried Miss Polly.
+
+“And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin' somethin'
+in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it, too, and
+that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause ye was
+so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest bein'
+glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.”
+
+“But, how--how--” Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+“An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,”
+ maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. “I
+wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out
+home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me
+glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things, an' big things; an'
+it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for
+a name half as much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't
+'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so.
+She's actually made me glad for Monday mornin's.”
+
+“Glad--for Monday mornings!”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed
+lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does
+she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should
+think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in
+the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another
+one!' An' I'm blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin'
+since--an' it HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I
+thought of it; an' laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!”
+
+“But why hasn't--she told me--the game?” faltered Miss Polly. “Why has
+she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?”
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+“Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her father;
+so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.”
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+“She wanted ter tell ye, first off,” continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. “She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I
+begun it, so she could have some one.”
+
+“And--and--these others?” Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+“Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think
+they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she
+told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they
+gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry
+one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't
+help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so
+bad--specially when they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find
+anythin' ter be glad about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter
+tell her how glad she's made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see,
+she's always wanted ev'rybody ter play the game with her.”
+
+“Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now,” choked Miss Polly, as she
+turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+“Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now,” she muttered to herself.
+“Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now--o' Miss
+Polly!”
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+Pollyanna alone together.
+
+“And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,” announced Miss
+Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. “Do you remember Mrs.
+Payson?”
+
+“Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes
+they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say,
+and of course they don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary
+minister, you know, like--well, he isn't.”
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+“But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being
+so poor,” resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. “And she's got perfectly
+beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?”
+
+“But they aren't going 'way off, dear,” evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+“They're going to stay right there together.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O dear!”
+ broke off the little girl, miserably. “Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+Mr. Pendleton again?”
+
+“There, there, don't,” choked her aunt. “Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson
+said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going to stay
+together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+“Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!”
+
+“Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make
+you--GLAD, Pollyanna.”
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know about
+the game, Aunt Polly?”
+
+“Yes, dear.” Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+matter-of-fact. “Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+to play it now--with you.”
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you most
+of anybody, all the time.”
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+“Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+all the town is playing that game now with you--even to the minister! I
+haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just
+as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you
+told him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it.
+The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully
+happier--and all because of one little girl who taught the people a new
+game, and how to play it.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. “Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway--else I
+couldn't have done--that!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story
+one day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a
+blown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did
+that didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the
+other story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two
+teeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth “hit”!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of
+bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the
+white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she had
+her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to think
+about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.
+John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and
+how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,
+and what bang-up “folks” Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it
+was all owing to her.
+
+“Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,”
+ Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed
+treatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's
+worst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into
+a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way
+to procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,
+and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides
+anxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged
+determination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat
+to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas
+Chilton.
+
+“Pendleton,” began the doctor, abruptly, “I've come to you because you,
+better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with
+Miss Polly Harrington.”
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--he
+did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+years, or more.
+
+“Yes,” he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+“Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+MUST make an examination.”
+
+“Well--can't you?”
+
+“CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--that
+the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+would be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her
+summoning me now--but I don't!”
+
+“But couldn't you go--without a summons?”
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+“Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know.”
+
+“But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+the quarrel--”
+
+“Forget the quarrel!” interrupted the doctor, savagely. “I'm not talking
+of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here
+there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It's
+PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?”
+
+“Chilton, what was the quarrel?” demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+“What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?” he snarled,
+pacing the room angrily. “A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or
+the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its having
+any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+or death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!”
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just
+as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached
+the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground
+outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+
+“Walk! Pollyanna!” John Pendleton was saying. “What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend of
+mine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a
+special study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.
+And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!”
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+“You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?”
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+“I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--Miss
+Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+best patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my hands
+still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!
+Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!”
+
+“Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!” retorted Pendleton.
+
+“But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'll
+never get!”
+
+“She must be made to ask you!”
+
+“How?”
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angry
+to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did ask
+me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when
+I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--” He
+did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,
+angrily.
+
+“But if she could be made to see--to understand,” urged John Pendleton.
+
+“Yes; and who's going to do it?” demanded the doctor, with a savage
+turn.
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+“Well, by Jinks, I know!” he whispered, exultingly. “I'M a-goin' ter
+do it!” And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the
+corner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+“It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,” announced Nancy in the
+doorway.
+
+“Me?” rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. “Are you sure he did not
+mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.”
+
+“Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.”
+
+“Very well, I'll come down.” And Miss Polly arose from her chair a
+little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+“Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think you
+would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+et--et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you
+WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood--”
+
+“Wh-at?” interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+“There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.”
+
+“Jimmy, what are you talking about?”
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+“That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.”
+
+“Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as
+you did before--and mix everything all up!”
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+“Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+talked in the library. Do you understand that?”
+
+“Yes, Jimmy.” Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+“Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it;
+an' I heard 'em talk.”
+
+“Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?”
+
+“'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',” bridled Jimmy.
+“And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make
+Pollyanna--walk!”
+
+“Jimmy, what do you mean?” Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+
+“There, I told ye so,” nodded Jimmy, contentedly. “Well, Dr. Chilton
+knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks--make her
+walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+him.”
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+“But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!” Miss Polly
+was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+“Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,” asserted
+Jimmy, eagerly. “They said that for some reason--I didn't rightly catch
+what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr. Warren so; an'
+Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him, on account of
+pride an' professional et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was
+wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they didn't know who
+could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away,
+'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?”
+
+“Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,” implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+“Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna
+walk?”
+
+“I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an'
+he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow,
+they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they
+was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An'
+say--you will let him come, won't you?--now you understand?”
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming
+in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes,
+thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she
+said brokenly:
+
+“Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick! I've
+got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a few
+minutes ago.”
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to
+hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+“Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+once--please? Thank you.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+“Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!” cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. “But, of course, if Aunt
+Polly doesn't want--”
+
+“It is all right, my dear; don't worry,” soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+hurrying forward. “I have told Dr. Chilton that--that I want him to look
+you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning.”
+
+“Oh, then you asked him to come,” murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+
+“Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--” But it was too late. The adoring
+happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and
+Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the
+room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+“Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever
+did has been done to-day,” he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+to themselves.
+
+“Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of all. Some
+day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your--uncle. And it's
+you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so--happy! And
+so--glad!--darling!”
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small
+palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+
+“Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted
+so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so glad! Why, Aunt
+Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind--even my legs,
+now!”
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+“Perhaps, some day, dear--” But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was quite wonderful
+enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+“Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages
+to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on
+purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr.
+Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do for you!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+“Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I did
+to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six steps. My, how
+good it was to be on legs again!
+
+“All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood
+beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week
+first, peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next
+month, was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and
+clapped her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through
+the piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying
+too much to call me anything.
+
+“I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't mind being
+here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding, anyhow. Wasn't
+that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get married right
+beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of the gladdest
+things!
+
+“Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any
+more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for
+everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never,
+never know how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them--that
+go, I mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+
+“With heaps of love to everybody,
+
+“POLLYANNA.”
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***
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+    <title>
+      Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+    </title>
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+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
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+  </head>
+  <body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***</div>
+  
+
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Eleanor H. Porter
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h4>
+      Author of &ldquo;Miss Billy,&rdquo; &ldquo;Miss Billy's Decision,"<br /> &ldquo;Cross Currents,&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;The Turn of the Tides,&rdquo; etc.
+    </h4>
+    <h5>
+      TO<br /><br /> My Cousin Belle
+    </h5>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>POLLYANNA</b> </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MISS POLLY <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OLD TOM AND NANCY
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        COMING OF POLLYANNA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        LITTLE ATTIC ROOM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION OF DUTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        AND PUNISHMENTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        PAYS A VISIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        TELLS OF THE MAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;INTRODUCING JIMMY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012">
+        CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEFORE THE LADIES' AID <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN PENDLETON WOODS
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JUST A
+        MATTER OF JELLY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;DR.
+        CHILTON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER
+        XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRISMS <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS SOMEWHAT
+        SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        IS MORE SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION ANSWERED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SERMONS
+        AND WOODBOXES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+        ACCIDENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JOHN
+        PENDLETON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        WAITING GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        DOOR AJAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TWO
+        VISITS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME AND ITS PLAYERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030">
+        CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JIMMY TAKES THE HELM <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A NEW UNCLE <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS A
+        LETTER FROM POLLYANNA <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June
+      morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she specially
+      prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was hurrying&mdash;actually
+      hurrying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+      working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew that
+      her mistress did not usually hurry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+      the pitcher in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo;&mdash;Miss Polly's voice was very stern now&mdash;&ldquo;when I'm
+      talking to you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to
+      say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the cloth
+      still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over&mdash;which did not add to
+      her composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,&rdquo; she stammered, righting the pitcher, and
+      turning hastily. &ldquo;I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you specially
+      told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mistress frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+      attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+      she could please this woman. Nancy had never &ldquo;worked out&rdquo; before; but a
+      sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children besides
+      Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward their
+      support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in the kitchen
+      of the great house on the hill&mdash;Nancy had come from &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo;
+       six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as the mistress of
+      the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest residents of the
+      town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly now as a stern,
+      severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to the floor, or if a
+      door banged&mdash;but who never thought to smile even when knives and
+      doors were still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,&rdquo; Miss Polly was saying
+      now, &ldquo;you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+      attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+      after you clear out the trunks and boxes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the front attic.&rdquo; Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: &ldquo;I suppose I may
+      as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is coming
+      to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be
+      nice!&rdquo; cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made
+      in the home at &ldquo;The Corners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,&rdquo; rejoined Miss
+      Polly, stiffly. &ldquo;However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I am
+      a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy colored hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here might&mdash;might
+      brighten things up for you,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; rejoined the lady, dryly. &ldquo;I can't say, however, that I see
+      any immediate need for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, of course, you&mdash;you'd want her, your sister's child,&rdquo; ventured
+      Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+      lonely little stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+      silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that was
+      already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly WANT to
+      have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope I know my
+      duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,&rdquo; she finished sharply, as she
+      left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher&mdash;now so
+      cold it must be rinsed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+      received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+      been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+      Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Madam:&mdash;I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+      two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+      practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know, he
+      was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre salary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+      understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+      however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child and
+      bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+      letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+      would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+      here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+      Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+      notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Respectfully yours,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeremiah O. White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its envelope.
+      She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would take the
+      child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for that!&mdash;disagreeable
+      as the task would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+      her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time when
+      Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+      minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man of
+      wealth who had wanted her&mdash;and the family had much preferred him to
+      the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+      well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+      head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+      Jennie had preferred these&mdash;quite naturally, perhaps; so she had
+      married the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+      been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had had
+      little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie herself
+      had written, for a time, and had named her last baby &ldquo;Pollyanna&rdquo; for her
+      two sisters, Polly and Anna&mdash;the other babies had all died. This had
+      been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there had
+      come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little note
+      from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+      on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+      thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother, sisters&mdash;all
+      were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of the house and of
+      the thousands left her by her father. There were people who had openly
+      pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have some friend or
+      companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed either their sympathy
+      or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She liked being by herself.
+      She preferred quiet. But now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad, of
+      course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew her duty,
+      but had sufficient strength of character to perform it. But&mdash;POLLYANNA!&mdash;what
+      a ridiculous name!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+      particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+      vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than it
+      was an ardor to efface dirt&mdash;Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+      submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;just&mdash;wish&mdash;I could&mdash;dig&mdash;out the corners&mdash;of&mdash;her&mdash;soul!&rdquo;
+       she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+      pointed cleaning-stick. &ldquo;There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+      all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+      this hot little room&mdash;with no fire in the winter, too, and all this
+      big house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!&rdquo;
+       snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain;
+      &ldquo;I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+      about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's done&mdash;my part, anyhow,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;There ain't no dirt
+      here&mdash;and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!&mdash;a
+      pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!&rdquo; she
+      finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she
+      ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly: &ldquo;Well, I don't care. I hope
+      she did hear the bang,&mdash;I do, I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+      interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths about
+      the place for uncounted years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom,&rdquo; began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make
+      sure she was unobserved; &ldquo;did you know a little girl was comin' here ter
+      live with Miss Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+      difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;to live with Miss Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on with yer jokin',&rdquo; scoffed unbelieving Tom. &ldquo;Why don't ye tell me
+      the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's true. She told me so herself,&rdquo; maintained Nancy. &ldquo;It's her
+      niece; and she's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho!&mdash;I wonder, now,&rdquo; he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+      faded eyes. &ldquo;It ain't&mdash;but it must be&mdash;Miss Jennie's little gal!
+      There wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+      Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+      a-seein' this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was Miss Jennie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was an angel straight out of Heaven,&rdquo; breathed the man, fervently;
+      &ldquo;but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She was
+      twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her babies
+      all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one what's
+      a-comin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she might be,&rdquo; nodded the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic&mdash;more shame ter HER!&rdquo; scolded
+      Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in the
+      house!&rdquo; snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,&rdquo; he grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if ever anybody could be fond of her!&rdquo; scorned Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,&rdquo; he said
+      slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love affair&mdash;HER! No!&mdash;and I guess nobody else didn't,
+      neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes they did,&rdquo; nodded the old man. &ldquo;And the feller's livin' ter-day&mdash;right
+      in this town, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.&rdquo; The old man drew
+      himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the
+      loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved for
+      long years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it don't seem possible&mdash;her and a lover,&rdquo; still maintained
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,&rdquo; he argued. &ldquo;She used ter be real
+      handsome&mdash;and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Handsome! Miss Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+      careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with posies
+      in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things&mdash;you'd see
+      she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of it&mdash;she
+      has, she has!&rdquo; sniffed Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. It begun then&mdash;at the time of the trouble with her
+      lover,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom; &ldquo;and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood
+      an' thistles ever since&mdash;she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal
+      with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say she was,&rdquo; declared Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;There's no pleasin'
+      her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't for the
+      wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some day&mdash;some
+      day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be good-by
+      Nancy for me. It will, it will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral&mdash;but 'tain't best, child;
+      'tain't best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.&rdquo; And again he bent his
+      old head to the work before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo; called a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes, ma'am,&rdquo; stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+      Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+      Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+      attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a
+      washstand, a bureau&mdash;without any mirror&mdash;and a small table.
+      There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the
+      wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little
+      room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had
+      not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+      down, up and down, trying to get out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+      an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, &ldquo;I found a fly
+      up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised at
+      some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you
+      to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive to-morrow at
+      four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take
+      the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says 'light hair,
+      red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I know, but I think
+      it is sufficient for your purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; but&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+      crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+      all.&rdquo; And she turned away&mdash;Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort
+      of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+      dish-towel she was ironing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'&mdash;all she
+      knows, indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would&mdash;and
+      her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+      drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+      Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+      Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. Short
+      as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good friends.
+      To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual
+      talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station
+      and alighted to wait for the train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over and over in her mind she was saying it &ldquo;light hair, red-checked
+      dress, straw hat.&rdquo; Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of
+      child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+      bang doors,&rdquo; she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,&rdquo;
+       grinned Timothy. &ldquo;Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+      the whistle now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Timothy, I&mdash;I think it was mean ter send me,&rdquo; chattered the
+      suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where she
+      could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before Nancy saw her&mdash;the slender little girl in the
+      red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+      back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to the
+      right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control her
+      shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was standing
+      quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you Miss&mdash;Pollyanna?&rdquo; she faltered. The next moment she found
+      herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,&rdquo; cried an eager voice in her ear.
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I hoped you
+      would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo; stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna
+      could possibly have known her&mdash;and wanted her. &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo;
+       she repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked like,&rdquo;
+       cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the embarrassed
+      Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. &ldquo;And now I know, and I'm glad you
+      look just like you do look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+      had been most confusing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, importantly. &ldquo;I've got a brand-new one.
+      The Ladies' Aid bought it for me&mdash;and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+      they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet a
+      trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow&mdash;much as half an
+      aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+      Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could get
+      my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+      Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And&mdash;there,
+      here 'tis,&rdquo; she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the
+      bag she carried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had to draw
+      one&mdash;after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy. Timothy's
+      eyes were studiously turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+      Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During the
+      whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+      uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+      Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis&mdash;I love to ride,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. &ldquo;Of course, if 'tisn't far,
+      I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the sooner,
+      you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty; father
+      told me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+      apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+      were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+      lifting of her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father told me all about it. He remembered. And&mdash;and I ought to have
+      explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once&mdash;about this red
+      gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think
+      'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+      barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+      suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots&mdash;worn, you know&mdash;on
+      both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to buy
+      me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go
+      toward the red carpet they're trying to get&mdash;for the church, you
+      know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+      like children in black&mdash;that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+      course, but not the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm sure it&mdash;it'll be all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again with that
+      choking little breath. &ldquo;Of course, 'twould have been a good deal harder to
+      be glad in black&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of
+      us, you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to&mdash;to
+      do it, even in red gingham, because I&mdash;I wanted him, so; and I
+      couldn't help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the
+      rest have God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the
+      Ladies' Aid. But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt
+      Polly. I'm so glad I've got you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her turned
+      suddenly into shocked terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but&mdash;but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,&rdquo; she faltered.
+      &ldquo;I'm only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you AREN'T?&rdquo; stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We&mdash;we
+      ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+      flash from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who ARE you?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't look a bit like a
+      Ladies' Aider!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy laughed outright this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an' hard
+      ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there IS an Aunt Polly?&rdquo; demanded the child, anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet your life there is,&rdquo; cut in Timothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then.&rdquo; There was a moment's silence, then she went
+      on brightly: &ldquo;And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't come
+      to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+      besides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I call that a pretty slick compliment,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Why don't you thank the
+      little lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I was thinkin' about&mdash;Miss Polly,&rdquo; faltered Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+      got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me. He
+      said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does. You can see it now,&rdquo; said Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how pretty!&mdash;and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+      never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+      Polly rich, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+      knew any one that did have, only the Whites&mdash;they're some rich. They
+      have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+      ice-cream Sundays?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+      Timothy's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never saw
+      it on her table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+      ice-cream. But&mdash;anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+      ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's did&mdash;that
+      is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got the
+      carpets, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she's got the carpets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In every room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in almost every room,&rdquo; answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+      thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love carpets. We didn't have any,
+      only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one of those
+      had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly beautiful
+      ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some lambs and a
+      lion&mdash;not together, you know&mdash;the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+      course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet&mdash;that
+      is, I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know,&rdquo; answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+      you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father sold
+      it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad it
+      fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass&mdash;it broke, you
+      know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+      things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better&mdash;not being
+      used to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+      the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+      perfectly beautiful house?&rdquo; she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+      the wide driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+      opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+      You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave! I should say not,&rdquo; grinned the youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+      'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fun!&mdash;fun!&rdquo; repeated Nancy, indignantly, &ldquo;I guess it'll be somethin'
+      more than fun for that blessed child&mdash;when them two tries ter live
+      tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+      refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!&rdquo; she
+      vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up from
+      her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+      sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with &ldquo;duty&rdquo; written large on
+      every coldly extended finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Pollyanna? I&mdash;&rdquo; She had no chance to say more.
+      Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+      aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that you
+      let me come to live with you,&rdquo; she was sobbing. &ldquo;You don't know how
+      perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've had
+      just the Ladies' Aid!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely&mdash;though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+      acquaintance,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the small,
+      clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the doorway.
+      &ldquo;Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to
+      stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you look like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+      anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+      red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows. I
+      told Nancy how father said&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly,
+      crisply. &ldquo;You had a trunk, I presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the Ladies'
+      Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it&mdash;of my own, I mean. The
+      barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them lately; but
+      there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she thought I ought to
+      have those. You see, father&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted her aunt again, sharply, &ldquo;there is one thing that
+      might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I do not
+      care to have you keep talking of your father to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you mean&mdash;&rdquo; She hesitated, and her aunt
+      filled the pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+      presume. I told Timothy to take it up&mdash;if you had one. You may follow
+      me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+      Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I&mdash;I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+      father,&rdquo; Pollyanna was thinking. &ldquo;It'll be easier, maybe&mdash;if I don't
+      talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+      about him.&rdquo; And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's &ldquo;kindness,&rdquo;
+       blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+      rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+      soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+      carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of picture
+      frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace curtains
+      flashed in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; breathed the little girl, rapturously; &ldquo;what
+      a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be you're so
+      rich!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached the
+      head of the stairs. &ldquo;I'm surprised at you&mdash;making a speech like that
+      to me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?&rdquo; queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+      be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,&rdquo;
+       declared the lady; &ldquo;certainly not, of RICHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway door.
+      She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room. Her idea
+      at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from herself,
+      and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness would not
+      destroy valuable furnishings. Now&mdash;with this evident strain of vanity
+      showing thus early&mdash;it was all the more fortunate that the room
+      planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+      eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that no
+      thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+      unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+      problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+      was waiting now her room&mdash;the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+      rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt
+      opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At the
+      top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners where
+      the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were stacked innumerable
+      trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      lifted her head higher&mdash;it seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw
+      that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see. Have
+      you your key?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+      not merely with your head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you need
+      here,&rdquo; she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+      pitcher. &ldquo;I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+      o'clock,&rdquo; she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking after
+      her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare floor, the
+      bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that had stood not
+      so long before in her own little room in the far-away Western home. The
+      next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its
+      side, covering her face with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, you poor lamb,&rdquo; she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+      drawing the little girl into her arms. &ldquo;I was just a-fearin! I'd find you
+      like this, like this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy&mdash;awful wicked,&rdquo; she sobbed. &ldquo;I just
+      can't make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+      than I did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more they did, neither,&rdquo; declared Nancy, stoutly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&mdash;NANCY!&rdquo; The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the
+      tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,&rdquo; she cried briskly.
+      &ldquo;Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+      your dresses in no time, no time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There aren't very many there, anyway,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then they're all the sooner unpacked,&rdquo; declared Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;course,&rdquo; she answered a little uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the patched
+      undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses. Pollyanna,
+      smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in the closet,
+      stacking the books on the table, and putting away the undergarments in the
+      bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sure it&mdash;it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+       she stammered, after a while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in the
+      trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully at the
+      bare wall above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+      there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth&mdash;but when
+      Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the windows,
+      a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her hands
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,&rdquo; she breathed. &ldquo;Look&mdash;'way off
+      there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+      the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody need
+      any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me have
+      this room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+      hurriedly crossed to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, Nancy&mdash;what is it?&rdquo; she cried; then, fearfully: &ldquo;This
+      wasn't&mdash;YOUR room, was it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My room!&rdquo; stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. &ldquo;If you ain't a
+      little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt before&mdash;Oh,
+      land! there's her bell!&rdquo; After which amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her
+      feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her &ldquo;picture,&rdquo; as she mentally
+      designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+      the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+      stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+      moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+      drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her eager
+      hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about the room.
+      Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had
+      made a wonderful discovery&mdash;against this window a huge tree flung
+      great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting
+      her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I can do it,&rdquo; she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+      nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+      the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+      from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+      ground was&mdash;even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees&mdash;a
+      little fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from
+      her strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then
+      she picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a bent
+      old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an open field
+      led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree stood on guard
+      beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there seemed to be just
+      one place in the world worth being in&mdash;the top of that big rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+      threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things, and&mdash;a
+      little out of breath&mdash;reached the path that ran through the open
+      field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+      thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+      window it had looked so near!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+      homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the bell
+      for supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+      with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+      hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+      intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+      appeared; &ldquo;my niece is late. No, you need not call her,&rdquo; she added
+      severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. &ldquo;I told her what time
+      supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She may as
+      well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down she may
+      have bread and milk in the kitchen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+      looking at Nancy's face just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+      stairs and thence to the attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bread and milk, indeed!&mdash;and when the poor lamb hain't only just
+      cried herself to sleep,&rdquo; she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed
+      open the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. &ldquo;Where are you?
+      Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?&rdquo; she panted, looking in the
+      closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+      Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,&rdquo; she wailed. &ldquo;She's vanished
+      right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb&mdash;and me told ter
+      give her bread and milk in the kitchen&mdash;her what's eatin' angel food
+      this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone? Heaven?&rdquo; he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the brilliant
+      sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment intently, then
+      turned with a slow grin. &ldquo;Well, Nancy, it do look like as if she'd tried
+      ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,&rdquo; he agreed,
+      pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined against the
+      reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge
+      rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night&mdash;not if I has my
+      say,&rdquo; declared Nancy, doggedly. &ldquo;If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+      furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,&rdquo; she flung back over her
+      shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,&rdquo;
+       panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+      regretfully slid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+      me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they found
+      I always came back all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I didn't even know you'd went,&rdquo; cried Nancy, tucking the little
+      girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. &ldquo;I didn't see
+      you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+      do, I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did, 'most&mdash;only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Came down the tree, outside my window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. &ldquo;I'd like ter
+      know what yer aunt would say ter that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,&rdquo; promised the
+      little girl, cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy!&rdquo; gasped Nancy. &ldquo;No&mdash;no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;er&mdash;yes&mdash;well, never mind. I&mdash;I ain't so very
+      particular about knowin' what she'd say, truly,&rdquo; stammered Nancy,
+      determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. &ldquo;But,
+      say, we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll help,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna!&rdquo; demurred Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took
+      a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared&mdash;a little,
+      'cause then you came after me,&rdquo; she shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I&mdash;I'm afraid you'll
+      have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't like
+      it&mdash;because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I couldn't. I was up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but&mdash;she didn't know that, you see!&rdquo; observed Nancy, dryly,
+      stifling a chuckle. &ldquo;I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see any
+      trouble about being glad about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',&rdquo; retorted
+      Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's brave attempts
+      to like the bare little attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;GAME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the 'just being glad' game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,&rdquo; rejoined
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+      girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it&mdash;some of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? I ain't much on games, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+      twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CRUTCHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but when
+      the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in, but
+      the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in handy
+      for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,&rdquo; declared
+      Nancy, almost irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad
+      about&mdash;no matter what 'twas,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. &ldquo;And we
+      began right then&mdash;on the crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about&mdash;gettin' a
+      pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is&mdash;there is,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;But <i>I</i> couldn't see it,
+      either, Nancy, at first,&rdquo; she added, with quick honesty. &ldquo;Father had to
+      tell it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,&rdquo; almost snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't&mdash;NEED&mdash;'EM!&rdquo;
+       exulted Pollyanna, triumphantly. &ldquo;You see it's just as easy&mdash;when you
+      know how!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the queer doin's!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna with
+      almost fearful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it isn't queer&mdash;it's lovely,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna
+      enthusiastically. &ldquo;And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+      the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only&mdash;only sometimes it's almost
+      too hard&mdash;like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't
+      anybody but a Ladies' Aid left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+      house with nothin' in it,&rdquo; growled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was a hard one, at first,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;specially when I was so
+      kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and I
+      HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I hated
+      to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out
+      the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be glad about. You
+      see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other
+      kind&mdash;like the doll you wanted, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most generally it doesn't take so long,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna; &ldquo;and lots of
+      times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+      used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it so
+      much,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;I suppose, though, it&mdash;it'll be a little harder
+      now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+      play it, though,&rdquo; she added, as an after-thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&mdash;HER!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, behind her teeth.
+      Then, aloud, she said doggedly: &ldquo;See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin'
+      that I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway;
+      but I'll play it with ye, after a fashion&mdash;I just will, I will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. &ldquo;That'll be
+      splendid! Won't we have fun?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Er&mdash;maybe,&rdquo; conceded Nancy, in open doubt. &ldquo;But you mustn't count
+      too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin'
+      ter make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+      ter play it with, anyhow,&rdquo; she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+      suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+      Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into
+      the kitchen to eat bread and milk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+      Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day, and
+      to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it
+      is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be careful how
+      you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See that you are down
+      to that. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+      and gave her an affectionate hug.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had such a beautiful time, so far,&rdquo; she sighed happily. &ldquo;I know I'm
+      going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before I
+      came. Good-night,&rdquo; she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. &ldquo;What a most
+      extraordinary child!&rdquo; Then she frowned. &ldquo;She's 'glad' I punished her, and
+      I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with me!
+      Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into
+      the tightly-clutched sheet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit now&mdash;not
+      one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be glad about
+      sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark&mdash;like this. If only I
+      was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it would be
+      easier!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed
+      her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If playin' a silly-fool game&mdash;about bein' glad you've got crutches
+      when you want dolls&mdash;is got ter be&mdash;my way&mdash;o' bein' that
+      rock o' refuge&mdash;why, I'm a-goin' ter play it&mdash;I am, I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her
+      arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not see
+      the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and she
+      knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+      Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+      window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt was
+      already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she made
+      herself ready to join her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+      Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+      screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+      Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+      alive!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect as
+      she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her neck.
+      &ldquo;Is this the usual way you say good morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from my
+      window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies' Aider,
+      and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just had to
+      come down and hug you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a frown&mdash;with
+      not her usual success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you&mdash;I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+      understand&mdash;about those rose-bushes,&rdquo; she said stiffly. Then she
+      turned and walked rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you always work in the garden, Mr.&mdash;Man?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna,
+      interestedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as if
+      with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,&rdquo; he answered. Timidly, but as if
+      impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+      it rest for a moment on her bright hair. &ldquo;You are so like your mother,
+      little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+      You see, I used ter work in the garden&mdash;then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did? And you knew my mother, really&mdash;when she was just a little
+      earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!&rdquo; And down
+      plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+      the back door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast&mdash;mornin's,&rdquo; she panted,
+      pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+      &ldquo;and other times it means other meals. But it always means that you're ter
+      run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye don't&mdash;well,
+      it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about
+      in that!&rdquo; she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo
+      an unruly chicken into a coop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss Polly,
+      her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here
+      and there over the table, said sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, where did those flies come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.&rdquo; Nancy had been too
+      excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; observed Pollyanna,
+      amiably. &ldquo;There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+      upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+      the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours!&rdquo; gasped Miss Polly. &ldquo;What do you mean? Where did they come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+      windows. I SAW some of them come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was grave,
+      but very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; directed her mistress, sharply, &ldquo;you may set the muffins down and
+      go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the doors,
+      also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every room with
+      the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To her niece she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+      that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+      forgotten YOUR duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My&mdash;duty?&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+      windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+      unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I will
+      give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+      hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized
+      timidly. &ldquo;I won't raise the windows again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+      over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out a
+      small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+      room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+      things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+      magnified, cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; The next moment she skipped merrily from the
+      room, banging the door behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+      opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up the
+      attic stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+      every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+      greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and interesting
+      in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why, I didn't
+      suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. &ldquo;Pollyanna, you may
+      bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+      suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned toward
+      the closet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did&mdash;and
+      THEY said they were shameful,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;But there were mostly things
+      for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and&mdash;did
+      you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she hurried on, with a hot
+      blush. &ldquo;I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+      sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich&mdash;up here in this room,
+      you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+      plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+      hurrying on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+      barrels&mdash;except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're
+      going to&mdash;even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every
+      time, too, that were hardest to play the game on, for father and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+      to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+      all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They aren't nice, at all,&rdquo; she choked, &ldquo;and they'd been black if it
+      hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've got.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+      garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+      frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got the best ones on,&rdquo; confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. &ldquo;The Ladies'
+      Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs. Jones&mdash;she's
+      the president&mdash;told 'em I should have that if they had to clatter
+      down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they won't. Mr.
+      White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says; but he's got
+      money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the carpet&mdash;on
+      account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad that if he
+      did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+      finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath&mdash;I mean, I was taught at home
+      some, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr. Hall,
+      the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong. Meanwhile,
+      I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to read
+      to myself&mdash;truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+      glad, either, for I like best to read to myself&mdash;on account of the
+      big words, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. &ldquo;Have you studied music?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much. I don't like my music&mdash;I like other people's, though. I
+      learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray&mdash;she plays for
+      church&mdash;she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+      Polly. I'd rather, truly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+      instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Pollyanna sighed. &ldquo;The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I had
+      an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle like the
+      rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought backstitching
+      ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other way), and Mrs.
+      Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever, at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+      shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+      presume.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't got
+      far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing. They
+      were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made it
+      alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to take
+      turns at me one forenoon a week&mdash;in their own kitchens, you know. I'd
+      only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when&mdash;when I had
+      to stop.&rdquo; Her voice broke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!&rdquo; scorned Miss Polly. &ldquo;I think we
+      can remedy that very soon.&rdquo; She paused in thought for a minute, then went
+      on slowly: &ldquo;At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+      half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+      order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+      spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you will
+      sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I shall, of
+      course, procure a teacher at once for you,&rdquo; she finished decisively, as
+      she arose from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all just
+      to&mdash;to live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+      Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+      asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living&mdash;doing the things you
+      want to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing
+      hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all
+      about the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+      perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+      living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+      proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if I am
+      willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and instruction,
+      YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that care and
+      instruction are not ungratefully wasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful&mdash;to YOU! Why, I
+      LOVE YOU&mdash;and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,&rdquo; vouchsafed Miss
+      Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+      after her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted to&mdash;to
+      give away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh&mdash;a sigh that ascended straight to
+      Pollyanna's ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town at
+      half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my niece
+      to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you if I
+      should let you appear out in any one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed now&mdash;she believed she was going to hate that word&mdash;duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please,&rdquo; she called wistfully, &ldquo;isn't there ANY way you can
+      be glad about all that&mdash;duty business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with very
+      red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. &ldquo;Don't be
+      impertinent, Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+      straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+      of duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,&rdquo; she sighed.
+      &ldquo;I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be glad about
+      in all that duty business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed on the
+      forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and began to
+      put away the dresses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,&rdquo; she said
+      aloud; &ldquo;unless&mdash;it's to be glad when the duty's done!&rdquo; Whereupon she
+      laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+      four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile from
+      the homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+      exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with the
+      feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at last
+      on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of a
+      volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of it
+      with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to keep their
+      friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna herself came
+      out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as she expressed
+      it to one of the clerks: &ldquo;When you haven't had anybody but missionary
+      barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly lovely to just
+      walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and that don't have to
+      be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+      and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+      on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid a
+      visit to a neighbor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her very
+      happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six miles away
+      at &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo; where lived her own dear mother, and her equally dear
+      brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if Miss Polly were
+      willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,&rdquo; sighed
+      Nancy. &ldquo;They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I&mdash;I just
+      hate 'Nancy'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+      and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names in
+      'em, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,&rdquo;
+       retorted Nancy, &ldquo;and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+      name's just grand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow,&rdquo; she chuckled, &ldquo;you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hephzibah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+      doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' she feels
+      just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+      like to be hurrahed at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?&mdash;I sha'n't
+      never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' and
+      giggle. My, I guess I AM glad&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped short and turned amazed
+      eyes on the little girl. &ldquo;Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean&mdash;was you
+      playin' that 'ere game THEN&mdash;about my bein' glad I wa'n't named
+      Hephzibah'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game&mdash;but that's one of the
+      times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots of
+      times; you get so used to it&mdash;looking for something to be glad about,
+      you know. And most generally there is something about everything that you
+      can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, m-maybe,&rdquo; granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet come,
+      and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes Pollyanna
+      looked at the two fast-closed windows&mdash;but she did not raise them.
+      She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew out her
+      candle and climbed into bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+      the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+      have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way across
+      the room and opened her door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung a
+      path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window. With
+      a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to the
+      left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+      silvery path, and on to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+      not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+      there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to hot
+      cheeks and hands!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+      she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+      Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled her
+      with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+      little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+      horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+      outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+      roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+      Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out of
+      doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window a
+      row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that they
+      contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little fearfully
+      now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice fat soft one
+      (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a thinner one to
+      be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was so thin it seemed
+      almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna in high glee
+      pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash, stuffed her burden
+      through to the roof below, then let herself down after it, closing the
+      window carefully behind her&mdash;Pollyanna had not forgotten those flies
+      with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+      delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin roof
+      under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna rather
+      liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from end to
+      end&mdash;it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after her
+      hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear
+      of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on
+      the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the other
+      for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,&rdquo; she murmured, blinking up
+      at the stars; &ldquo;else I couldn't have had this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly herself
+      was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+      frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice to
+      Timothy:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come up quick!&mdash;you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+      the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis or
+      somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the east
+      window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here&mdash;but
+      hurry, quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by a
+      lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes to
+      find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting through
+      the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean?&rdquo; cried Aunt Polly then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Tom&mdash;Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;Don't look so scared! It
+      isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+      only that I was so hot&mdash;in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly,
+      so the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+      precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+      Miss Polly bit her lip hard&mdash;until the men were gone; then she said
+      sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all the
+      extraordinary children!&rdquo; she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna
+      by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath of
+      the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long quivering
+      sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me.
+      The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my duty
+      to keep you where I know where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With you?&mdash;in your bed?&rdquo; she cried rapturously. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+      with some one sometime&mdash;some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+      Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+      didn't come! Wouldn't you be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to tell
+      the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna&mdash;and for the
+      third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+      punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+      Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+      something like order&mdash;though not exactly the order that Miss Polly
+      had at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and
+      studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of
+      these things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more
+      time, also, to &ldquo;just live,&rdquo; as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+      afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she liked&mdash;provided
+      she did not &ldquo;like&rdquo; to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to the
+      child as a relief to Pollyanna from work&mdash;or as a relief to Aunt
+      Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+      Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate &ldquo;What an extraordinary
+      child!&rdquo; and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+      conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+      Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+      homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+      outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far away,
+      they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's age.
+      This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,&rdquo; she explained to Nancy. &ldquo;I'm happy just
+      to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the people. I
+      just love people. Don't you, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I can't say I do&mdash;all of 'em,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, tersely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for &ldquo;an errand to
+      run,&rdquo; so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or another; and
+      it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To herself
+      Pollyanna always called him &ldquo;the Man,&rdquo; no matter if she met a dozen other
+      men the same day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat&mdash;two things
+      that the &ldquo;just men&rdquo; never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather pale,
+      and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked erect,
+      and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna vaguely
+      sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day spoke to
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?&rdquo; she called cheerily, as she
+      approached him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you speak&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he asked in a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; he grunted; and strode on again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day she saw him again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,&rdquo; she called out
+      cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+      laughed happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+      the man stopped abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+      you stopped. Now we're introduced&mdash;only I don't know your name yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; The man did not finish his sentence, but strode
+      on faster than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+      smiling lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe he didn't understand&mdash;but that was only half an introduction.
+      I don't know HIS name, yet,&rdquo; she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+      Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+      thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a
+      member of her church&mdash;it was the duty of all the church members to
+      look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually
+      on Thursday afternoons&mdash;not personally, but through Nancy. To-day
+      Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her
+      in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,&rdquo; Nancy had declared in private
+      afterwards to Pollyanna; &ldquo;though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the job off
+      on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'd love to do it, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you won't&mdash;after you've done it once,&rdquo; predicted Nancy,
+      sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a soul
+      go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All is, I
+      pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, why, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened, has
+      happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't run
+      ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas Sunday;
+      and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted chicken&mdash;but
+      if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for lamb broth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a funny woman,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I think I shall like to go
+      to see her. She must be so surprising and&mdash;and different. I love
+      DIFFERENT folks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right&mdash;I hope, for the
+      sake of the rest of us!&rdquo; Nancy had finished grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at the
+      gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling, indeed,
+      at the prospect of meeting this &ldquo;different&rdquo; Mrs. Snow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; began Pollyanna politely. &ldquo;I'm from Miss Polly
+      Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,&rdquo;
+       muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+      girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at the
+      end of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+      Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+      gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+      across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+      to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Jelly?&rdquo; murmured a fretful voice. &ldquo;Of course I'm very much obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,&rdquo;
+       she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; The sick woman turned sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothing, much,&rdquo; apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; &ldquo;and of course it
+      doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+      chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+      chicken&mdash;but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed&mdash;a
+      most unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow&mdash;and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too!
+      That would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+      Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's why
+      I'm here with the jelly this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+      interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on her
+      pillow listlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my appetite
+      isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped
+      suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. &ldquo;I never slept a
+      wink last night&mdash;not a wink!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear, I wish <i>I</i> didn't,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on
+      the little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair.
+      &ldquo;You lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lose time&mdash;sleeping!&rdquo; exclaimed the sick woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+      can't live nights, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Here! do you go to
+      that window and pull up the curtain,&rdquo; she directed. &ldquo;I should like to know
+      what you look like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?&rdquo; she sighed, as she went
+      to the window; &ldquo;&mdash;and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+      you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can&mdash;oh!&rdquo; she broke off
+      excitedly, as she turned back to the bed; &ldquo;I'm so glad you wanted to see
+      me, because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me!&mdash;pretty!&rdquo; scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. Didn't you know it?&rdquo; cried Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no, I didn't,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived forty
+      years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy wishing things
+      were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too, and
+      curly,&rdquo; cooed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love black curls. (That's one of the things
+      I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two little red
+      spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I should think you'd
+      know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The glass!&rdquo; snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. &ldquo;Yes,
+      well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days&mdash;and
+      you wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course not,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. &ldquo;But wait&mdash;just
+      let me show you,&rdquo; she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau and picking
+      up a small hand-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+      critical gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+      little before I let you see it,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;May I fix your hair,
+      please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I&mdash;suppose so, if you want to,&rdquo; permitted Mrs. Snow,
+      grudgingly; &ldquo;but 'twon't stay, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, carefully
+      laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. &ldquo;I sha'n't do much
+      to-day, of course&mdash;I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty you
+      are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+      lovely time with it,&rdquo; she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+      hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+      curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or shaking
+      a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better pose.
+      Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly scoffing at
+      the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to tingle with a
+      feeling perilously near to excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by and
+      tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect. &ldquo;Now I
+      reckon we're ready to be looked at!&rdquo; And she held out the mirror in
+      triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. &ldquo;I like
+      red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+      night, so what's the difference!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna,
+      &ldquo;'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+      hair fluffed out like that,&rdquo; she finished with a satisfied gaze. &ldquo;Don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hm-m; maybe. Still&mdash;'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on
+      the pillow as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;and I'm glad, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+      &ldquo;because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+      it's black&mdash;black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+      like mine does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair&mdash;shows gray too
+      soon,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+      mirror before her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you wouldn't!&mdash;not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for
+      black hair nor anything else&mdash;if you had to lie here all day as I
+      do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, 'twould be kind of hard&mdash;to do it then, wouldn't it?&rdquo; she mused
+      aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things&mdash;when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+      should say it would,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. &ldquo;If you don't think so, just
+      tell me something to be glad about; that's all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+      clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one&mdash;won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+      I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come I
+      can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,&rdquo; she called
+      again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?&rdquo; ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+      staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up the
+      mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,&rdquo; she muttered
+      under her breath. &ldquo;I declare, I didn't know it could look so pretty. But
+      then, what's the use?&rdquo; she sighed, dropping the little glass into the
+      bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+      still lay among the bedclothes&mdash;though it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mother&mdash;the curtain is up!&rdquo; cried Milly, dividing her amazed
+      stare between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what if it is?&rdquo; snapped the sick woman. &ldquo;I needn't stay in the dark
+      all my life, if I am sick, need I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, n-no, of course not,&rdquo; rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as she
+      reached for the medicine bottle. &ldquo;It's only&mdash;well, you know very well
+      that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+      wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+      nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress&mdash;instead of
+      lamb broth, for a change!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;mother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer behind
+      her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months had been
+      vainly urging her mother to wear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+      with a bright smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't so nice to-day, is it?&rdquo; she called blithesomely. &ldquo;I'm glad it
+      doesn't rain always, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna decided
+      that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore (which
+      happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She thought it
+      particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man was striding along,
+      his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the ground&mdash;which seemed,
+      to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the
+      freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a special treat, was on a
+      morning errand to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; she chirped. &ldquo;I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right now,
+      once for all,&rdquo; he began testily. &ldquo;I've got something besides the weather
+      to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.&rdquo; Pollyanna beamed
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well&mdash;Eh? What?&rdquo; he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding
+      of her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, that's why I told you&mdash;so you would notice it, you know&mdash;that
+      the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you only
+      stopped to think of it&mdash;and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+      thinking of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent
+      gesture. He started forward again, but after the second step he turned
+      back, still frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still, I
+      don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+      sometimes&mdash;being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?&rdquo; The man's
+      lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still trying
+      to hold them grimly stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider&mdash;not but
+      that you're just as good, of course&mdash;maybe better,&rdquo; she added in
+      hurried politeness. &ldquo;You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on
+      as before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight into
+      hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really pleasant,
+      Pollyanna thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good afternoon,&rdquo; he greeted her a little stiffly. &ldquo;Perhaps I'd better say
+      right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you don't have to tell me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, brightly. &ldquo;I KNEW you
+      knew it just as soon as I saw you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you did, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man, as he passed on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+      first, though usually he said little but &ldquo;good afternoon.&rdquo; Even that,
+      however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+      one day when the greeting was given.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she gasped, &ldquo;did that man SPEAK TO YOU?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, he always does&mdash;now,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who&mdash;he&mdash;is?&rdquo; demanded
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+      introducing, but he didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's eyes widened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he never speaks ter anybody, child&mdash;he hain't for years, I
+      guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+      Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill. He
+      won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him&mdash;comes down ter the
+      hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+      him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he wants
+      ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time&mdash;only it'll be
+      somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and I
+      took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally. We used
+      to say how glad we were we liked beans&mdash;that is, we said it specially
+      when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty
+      cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like 'em! What if he does&mdash;or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+      poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has&mdash;from his father.
+      There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills, if
+      he wanted to&mdash;and not know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna giggled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+      come to try to chew 'em!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;He ain't
+      spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, for the heathen,&rdquo; surmised Pollyanna. &ldquo;How perfectly splendid! That's
+      denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+      come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+      something that prevented the words being spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she went on:
+      &ldquo;But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss Pollyanna. He
+      don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great big lovely house
+      all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's crazy, and some
+      jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his closet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; shuddered Pollyanna. &ldquo;How can he keep such a dreadful thing?
+      I should think he'd throw it away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead of
+      figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+      correcting the mistake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;Some years he jest
+      travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen countries&mdash;Egypt
+      and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, a missionary,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed oddly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+      books&mdash;queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+      them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+      money here&mdash;leastways, not for jest livin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;if he's saving it for the heathen,&rdquo; declared
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs.
+      Snow, only he's a different different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess he is&mdash;rather,&rdquo; chuckled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as at
+      first, in a darkened room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,&rdquo; announced Milly, in a
+      tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it's you, is it?&rdquo; asked a fretful voice from the bed. &ldquo;I remember
+      you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you had
+      come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+      to-day is, then,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room, and
+      setting her basket carefully down on a chair. &ldquo;My! but aren't you dark
+      here, though? I can't see you a bit,&rdquo; she cried, unhesitatingly crossing
+      to the window and pulling up the shade. &ldquo;I want to see if you've fixed
+      your hair like I did&mdash;oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm glad you
+      haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it&mdash;later. But now
+      I want you to see what I've brought you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman stirred restlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,&rdquo; she
+      scoffed&mdash;but she turned her eyes toward the basket. &ldquo;Well, what is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess! What do you want?&rdquo; Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+      face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;After all, they
+      all taste alike!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+      been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+      what she DID want seemed impossible&mdash;until she knew what she had.
+      Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+      waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, there's lamb broth&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got it!&rdquo; crowed Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that's what I DIDN'T want,&rdquo; sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+      her stomach craved. &ldquo;It was chicken I wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I've got that, too,&rdquo; chuckled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman turned in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both of them?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; triumphed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I was just bound
+      you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+      course, there's only a little of each&mdash;but there's some of all of
+      'em! I'm so glad you did want chicken,&rdquo; she went on contentedly, as she
+      lifted the three little bowls from her basket. &ldquo;You see, I got to thinking
+      on the way here&mdash;what if you should say tripe, or onions, or
+      something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a shame&mdash;when
+      I'd tried so hard?&rdquo; she laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying&mdash;mentally to
+      find something she had lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I'm to leave them all,&rdquo; announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+      three bowls in a row on the table. &ldquo;Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+      want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?&rdquo; she finished in polite inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very poorly, thank you,&rdquo; murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her usual
+      listless attitude. &ldquo;I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins next door
+      has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly wild. She was
+      at it all the morning&mdash;every minute! I'm sure, I don't know what I
+      shall do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once&mdash;one of my Ladies'
+      Aiders, you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+      couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+      have. Can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrash 'round&mdash;move, you know, so as to change your position when
+      the music gets too hard to stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I can move&mdash;anywhere&mdash;in bed,&rdquo; she rejoined a
+      little irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?&rdquo; nodded
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have rheumatic
+      fever&mdash;though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says. She told
+      me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it hadn't been
+      for Mr. White's sister's ears&mdash;being deaf, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sister's&mdash;EARS! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+      White. You see, Miss White was deaf&mdash;awfully deaf; and she came to
+      visit 'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they
+      had such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+      every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White felt
+      so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she DID hear
+      it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if she was deaf
+      and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You see, she was
+      playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow&mdash;what you
+      can be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD about! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+      something to be glad about&mdash;glad, you know, even though you did have
+      to lie here abed all day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; scoffed the woman. &ldquo;THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't suppose
+      you were in earnest any more than I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I was,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; &ldquo;and I found it, too.
+      But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard. And
+      I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for a
+      while. Then I got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you, really? Well, what is it?&rdquo; Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+      polite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought&mdash;how glad you could be&mdash;that other folks weren't like
+      you&mdash;all sick in bed like this, you know,&rdquo; she announced
+      impressively. Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really!&rdquo; she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now I'll tell you the game,&rdquo; proposed Pollyanna, blithely confident.
+      &ldquo;It'll be just lovely for you to play&mdash;it'll be so hard. And there's
+      so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.&rdquo; And she began
+      to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll that did not
+      come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said with dreary
+      listlessness. &ldquo;She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+      says you're to hurry&mdash;that you've got some practising to make up
+      before dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'll hurry.&rdquo; Suddenly she laughed. &ldquo;I suppose I
+      ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+      were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+      cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by,&rdquo; flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+      &ldquo;I'm awfully sorry about the hair&mdash;I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+      next time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+      indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+      Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy; but
+      I trust that they are profitable, as well&mdash;otherwise I should have
+      failed signally in my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss&mdash;a
+      proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but one
+      day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they should
+      be just happy days?&rdquo; she asked wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I mean, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it&mdash;it's just being profitable&mdash;having profit, something
+      to show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna, a little
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you won't
+      ever play the game, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Game? What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+      &ldquo;N-nothing,&rdquo; she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said tersely. And the
+      sewing lesson was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room, met
+      her aunt on the stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You were coming up to
+      see me! Come right in. I love company,&rdquo; she finished, scampering up the
+      stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+      planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+      the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself, not
+      in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little room
+      sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs&mdash;so many, many times
+      since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+      utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+      out to do!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love company,&rdquo; said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+      dispensing the hospitality of a palace; &ldquo;specially since I've had this
+      room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas a
+      hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are they?
+      And of course I do own this one, don't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+      did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+      carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want&mdash;&rdquo; With a
+      painful blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+      different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably not,&rdquo; returned Miss Polly, coldly; &ldquo;but you did say it, so
+      suppose we have the rest of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+      carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PLANNING on them!&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized. &ldquo;It was only
+      because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh, we'd
+      had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and one had
+      ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those two
+      pictures; the one fath&mdash;I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+      that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+      wanted them, so&mdash;pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+      planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+      here, and&mdash;and&mdash;but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute&mdash;I
+      mean, a few minutes&mdash;before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T
+      have a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there
+      couldn't be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've
+      been so good to me, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said stiffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have said quite enough, I'm sure.&rdquo; The next minute she had swept down
+      the stairs&mdash;and not until she reached the first floor did it suddenly
+      occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a white wool
+      shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+      the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there for
+      the present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; said Nancy aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O glory!&rdquo; said Nancy to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter sleep
+      down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are&mdash;you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna actually grew white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;why, Nancy, not really&mdash;really and truly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you'll think it's really and truly,&rdquo; prophesied Nancy,
+      exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+      had taken from the closet. &ldquo;I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+      goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+      risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at a
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her goal&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's got
+      EVERYTHING&mdash;the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides the
+      one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of course;
+      but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will take proper
+      care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that chair; and you
+      have banged two doors in the last half-minute.&rdquo; Miss Polly spoke sternly,
+      all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable reason, she felt
+      inclined to cry&mdash;and Miss Polly was not used to feeling inclined to
+      cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm; I know I banged 'em&mdash;those doors,&rdquo; she admitted cheerfully.
+      &ldquo;You see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+      doors if&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new
+      interest. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope&mdash;not, Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!&rdquo; Pollyanna's face expressed only concerned
+      sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A shame!&rdquo; repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+      'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+      ever glad over anything&mdash;or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't
+      have helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANna!&rdquo; gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the distant
+      bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had gone to
+      help Nancy bring down &ldquo;her things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;&mdash;but then,
+      of course she HAD been glad&mdash;over some things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      August came. August brought several surprises and some changes&mdash;none
+      of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First there was the kitten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+      When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+      claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,&rdquo; she told her
+      aunt in happy confidence; &ldquo;'cause I wanted to bring it home all the time.
+      I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery in
+      Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats&mdash;not
+      even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+      all mangy and fleay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, poor little thing,&rdquo; crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking into
+      the little creature's frightened eyes. &ldquo;And it's all trembly, too, it's so
+      scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep it, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;nor anybody else,&rdquo; retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, they do,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her aunt's
+      words. &ldquo;I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find where it
+      belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it&mdash;poor little lonesome
+      thing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+      helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+      had her now fast in its grip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I knew,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, &ldquo;that you wouldn't
+      let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+      taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+      keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+      anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,&rdquo; she nodded happily, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Miss Polly. &ldquo;I don't&mdash;&rdquo; But
+      Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going to
+      bring up along with me!&rdquo; And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room&mdash;who
+      abhorred cats&mdash;fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay,
+      powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+      was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+      herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy&mdash;a role
+      that Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+      that the woman&mdash;who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+      possible&mdash;found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small, ragged
+      boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss Polly did
+      have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot jelly
+      again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of friends now.
+      Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna had made, the
+      one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was
+      playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it
+      very well&mdash;she had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was
+      not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's cheery
+      instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast.
+      To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she was glad
+      Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what she had
+      been wanting&mdash;she did not know that Milly, at the front door, had
+      told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent over a
+      great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+      whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo yourself,&rdquo; he mumbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; she
+      chuckled, stopping before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+      whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+      near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was &ldquo;used to
+      Ladies' Aiders,&rdquo; and &ldquo;didn't mind,&rdquo; she had sighed at times for some
+      companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name's Pollyanna Whittier,&rdquo; she began pleasantly. &ldquo;What's yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+      settled back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part&mdash;some folks
+      don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+      live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere! Why, you can't do that&mdash;everybody lives somewhere,&rdquo;
+       asserted Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't&mdash;just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it&mdash;if I knew!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she did
+      not like to be called &ldquo;silly.&rdquo; Still, he was somebody besides&mdash;old
+      folks. &ldquo;Where did you live&mdash;before?&rdquo; she queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!&rdquo; sighed the boy
+      impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to be,&rdquo; retorted Pollyanna calmly, &ldquo;else I couldn't find out a
+      thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+      willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right then&mdash;here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old
+      goin' on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but
+      they've got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+      wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+      somewheres else&mdash;but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a home&mdash;jest
+      a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has
+      a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks since&mdash;dad died. So I'm
+      a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but&mdash;they didn't want me&mdash;though
+      I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is that all you want ter
+      know?&rdquo; The boy's voice had broken a little over the last two sentences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a shame!&rdquo; sympathized Pollyanna. &ldquo;And didn't there anybody want
+      you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after&mdash;after my father
+      died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until Aunt
+      Polly said she'd take&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of a
+      wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know just the place for you,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Aunt Polly'll take you&mdash;I
+      know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy and Buffy,
+      when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to go?&mdash;and
+      they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take you! You
+      don't know how good and kind she is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!&rdquo; He
+      bared a small, bony arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the world&mdash;now
+      that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's rooms&mdash;heaps
+      of 'em,&rdquo; she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging at his arm.
+      &ldquo;It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,&rdquo; she added a little anxiously, as
+      they hurried on, &ldquo;maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at
+      first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so hot, and the flies
+      can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet. Did you
+      know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll let you read the book
+      if you're good&mdash;I mean, if you're bad. And you've got freckles, too,&rdquo;&mdash;with
+      a critical glance&mdash;&ldquo;so you'll be glad there isn't any looking-glass;
+      and the outdoor picture is nicer than any wall-one could be, so you won't
+      mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm sure,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, finding
+      suddenly that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than
+      talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gorry!&rdquo; exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+      admiringly. Then he added: &ldquo;I shouldn't think anybody who could talk like
+      that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time with!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,&rdquo; she retorted; &ldquo;for when I'm
+      talking, YOU don't have to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her companion
+      straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she triumphed, &ldquo;just look a-here! I've got something
+      ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up. It's
+      a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at first, you
+      know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most of the time to
+      play with, I reckon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+      she thought she understood enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+      you find him?&rdquo; she demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;dirty little boy&rdquo; fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+      Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+      And he is dirty, too, isn't he?&mdash;I mean, the boy is&mdash;just like
+      Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve
+      all right by washing, just as they did, and&mdash;Oh, I 'most forgot
+      again,&rdquo; she broke off with a laugh. &ldquo;This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is he doing here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+      surprise. &ldquo;He's for you. I brought him home&mdash;so he could live here,
+      you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+      and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+      course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+      throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+      With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+      erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+      done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you must
+      needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+      up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+      fearlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was cal'latin'
+      ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have come ter your
+      old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me, a-tellin' me how
+      you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter take me in. So,
+      there!&rdquo; And he wheeled about and stalked from the room with a dignity that
+      would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; choked Pollyanna. &ldquo;Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to have
+      him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+      Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The &ldquo;good and kind&rdquo; of the boy's words
+      were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was almost upon
+      her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom of her will
+      power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; she cried sharply, &ldquo;WILL you stop using that everlasting word
+      'glad'! It's 'glad'&mdash;'glad'&mdash;'glad' from morning till night
+      until I think I shall grow wild!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she breathed, &ldquo;I should think you'd be glad to have me
+      gl&mdash;Oh!&rdquo; she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+      blindly from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how&mdash;how sorry I am,&rdquo; she
+      panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,&rdquo; retorted the boy, sullenly. &ldquo;But I
+      ain't no beggar!&rdquo; he added, with sudden spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,&rdquo; appealed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and I reckon I didn't
+      tell her much who you were. She is good and kind, really&mdash;she's
+      always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do wish I could
+      find some place for you, though!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+      illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this afternoon.
+      I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them. That's what
+      father always did, when he wanted anything&mdash;educating the heathen and
+      new carpets, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides&mdash;what is a Ladies'
+      Aid?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?&mdash;not to know
+      what a Ladies' Aid is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, all right&mdash;if you ain't tellin',&rdquo; grunted the boy, turning and
+      beginning to walk away indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's&mdash;it's&mdash;why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew
+      and give suppers and raise money and&mdash;and talk; that's what a Ladies'
+      Aid is. They're awfully kind&mdash;that is, most of mine was, back home. I
+      haven't seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going
+      to tell them about you this afternoon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear a
+      whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you wouldn't be there,&rdquo; argued Pollyanna, quickly. &ldquo;I'd go alone,
+      of course, and tell them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+      see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. &ldquo;And there'd be some of 'em,
+      I know, that would be glad to give you a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd work&mdash;don't forget ter say that,&rdquo; cautioned the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point was
+      gained. &ldquo;Then I'll let you know to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the road&mdash;where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll be there.&rdquo; The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see I
+      hain't no other place ter stay; and&mdash;and I didn't leave till this
+      mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+      they'd pretend I couldn't come&mdash;though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+      worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+      They don't CARE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. &ldquo;But I'm sure, when I
+      see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care all
+      ready for you. Good-by!&rdquo; she called brightly, as she turned back toward
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+      watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a bend
+      of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+      listlesly up-stairs&mdash;and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly.
+      In her ears still was the boy's scornful &ldquo;you was so good and kind.&rdquo; In
+      her heart was a curious sense of desolation&mdash;as of something lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent meal
+      on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried to
+      talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four times she
+      was obliged to break off a &ldquo;glad&rdquo; in the middle of it, much to her
+      blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, say it, if you want to,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'm sure I'd
+      rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard&mdash;not to say it.
+      You see I've played it so long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Played it&mdash;the game, you know, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped
+      with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+      the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies' Aid
+      meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+      up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for
+      the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was not to
+      be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the
+      Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a
+      little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him that&mdash;before
+      the Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel next
+      the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+      therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want them all to be there,&rdquo; she said to herself; &ldquo;else the very one
+      that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy Bean
+      a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really&mdash;to
+      Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel steps,
+      pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of feminine
+      chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a brief
+      moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+      timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+      these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+      Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?&rdquo; she faltered politely. &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU&mdash;only
+      I don't know you all together this way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+      rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+      heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+      then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've come to&mdash;to lay the case before you,&rdquo; stammered
+      Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's
+      familiar phraseology.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a slight rustle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did&mdash;did your aunt send you, my dear?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Ford, the
+      minister's wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It was
+      Ladies' Aiders that brought me up&mdash;with father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it&mdash;it's Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;He hasn't any home
+      except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+      thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has a
+      mother instead of a Matron in it&mdash;folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+      ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him&mdash;to
+      live with you, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, did you ever!&rdquo; murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+      followed Pollyanna's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,&rdquo; she supplemented eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to question
+      her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk among
+      themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+      not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was no
+      woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to think
+      that some of the others might take him, as there were several who had no
+      little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no one who
+      agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's wife suggest
+      timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his support and
+      education instead of sending quite so much money this year to the little
+      boys in far-away India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+      and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+      their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+      said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year. Some
+      of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not have
+      understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at all what
+      the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their society in a
+      certain &ldquo;report&rdquo; &ldquo;headed the list&rdquo;&mdash;and of course that could not be
+      what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and not quite
+      pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she found
+      herself outside in the hushed, sweet air&mdash;only she was very sorry,
+      too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+      tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they would
+      rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than to save
+      out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for which they
+      would not get &ldquo;a bit of credit in the report,&rdquo; according to the tall lady
+      who wore spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+      shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+      as she trudged sorrowfully along. &ldquo;But they acted as if little boys HERE
+      weren't any account&mdash;only little boys 'way off. I should THINK,
+      though, they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow&mdash;than just a report!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the chapel.
+      She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had been a hard
+      day, for all it had been a &ldquo;vacation one&rdquo; (as she termed the infrequent
+      days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and Pollyanna was sure
+      that nothing would do her quite so much good as a walk through the green
+      quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed
+      steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,&rdquo; she was telling
+      herself; &ldquo;and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the woods,
+      even if I do have to climb to get there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+      experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+      notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+      to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish they were up here&mdash;all those ladies who talked so loud,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+      between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. &ldquo;Anyhow, if they were up here,
+      I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little boy, all
+      right,&rdquo; she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to give a
+      reason for it, even to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked some
+      distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, doggie&mdash;hullo!&rdquo; Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+      looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+      was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+      looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly, but
+      he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was still
+      barking&mdash;giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+      running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+      path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at once,
+      whining and barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! That isn't the way home,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+      main path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth, between
+      Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining pitifully.
+      Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from his
+      beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal&mdash;so eloquent that at
+      last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+      before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+      at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the side
+      path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+      head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,&rdquo; snapped the man
+      irritably. &ldquo;See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have you got
+      any sense?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but&mdash;as was her habit&mdash;she
+      answered the questions literally, one by one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+      great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+      said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day&mdash;they didn't
+      know I heard, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+      confounded leg of mine. Now listen.&rdquo; He paused, and with some difficulty
+      reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of keys,
+      singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. &ldquo;Straight through the
+      path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key will admit you
+      to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know what a porte-cochere
+      is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof I
+      slept on&mdash;only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+      vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk in
+      the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to use a
+      telephone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind Aunt Polly now,&rdquo; cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+      move himself a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+      around there&mdash;it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+      probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+      one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+      names, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle Ledge
+      in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a stretcher
+      and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to come by the
+      path from the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!&rdquo; shuddered
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I'm so glad I came! Can't <i>I</i> do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you can&mdash;but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+      and stop talking,&rdquo; moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+      cry, Pollyanna went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+      sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+      that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+      before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now at the
+      massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared verandas and
+      its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she sped across the
+      big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door under the
+      porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon the keys,
+      were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt in the lock;
+      but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its hinges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she paused
+      a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide, sombre
+      hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's house; the
+      house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master entered; the
+      house which sheltered, somewhere&mdash;a skeleton. Yet she, Pollyanna, was
+      expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and telephone the doctor
+      that the master of the house lay now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+      fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the hall;
+      but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold across the
+      floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the fireplace, and
+      touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in the middle of the
+      room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly tiptoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But Pollyanna
+      found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's to
+      &ldquo;Chilton.&rdquo; In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end of the
+      wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering the
+      doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the receiver
+      and drew a long breath of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+      vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+      floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+      conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+      through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had left
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+      Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;As if I'd be here if I
+      hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as possible
+      with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were, so I didn't
+      stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you?&rdquo; smiled the man, grimly. &ldquo;Well, I can't say I admire your taste.
+      I should think you might find pleasanter companions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean&mdash;because you're so&mdash;cross?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks for your frankness. Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're only cross OUTSIDE&mdash;You arn't cross inside a bit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! How do you know that?&rdquo; asked the man, trying to change the
+      position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, lots of ways; there&mdash;like that&mdash;the way you act with the
+      dog,&rdquo; she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the
+      dog's sleek head near him. &ldquo;It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides
+      of folks better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your
+      head,&rdquo; she finished abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change was
+      being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+      substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that is&mdash;better,&rdquo; he murmured faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+      wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if his
+      lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself almost
+      cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there so
+      helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+      motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+      wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west and
+      the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she hardly
+      seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of her hand,
+      and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost under her
+      nose&mdash;yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the motionless
+      dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last the dog pricked up his ears and whined softly; then he gave a
+      short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+      their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+      articles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tallest of the party&mdash;a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom
+      Pollyanna knew by sight as &ldquo;Dr. Chilton&rdquo;&mdash;advanced cheerily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my little lady, playing nurse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've only held his head&mdash;I haven't
+      given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+      injured man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+      John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy met her at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,&rdquo; she sighed in
+      obvious relief. &ldquo;It's half-past six!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna anxiously; &ldquo;but I'm not to blame&mdash;truly
+      I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won't have the chance,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+      &ldquo;She's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo; gasped Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't mean that I've driven her away?&rdquo;
+       Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories of the
+      morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome &ldquo;glad&rdquo; and
+      forbidden &ldquo;father&rdquo; that would spring to her forgetful little tongue. &ldquo;Oh,
+      I DIDN'T drive her away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you did,&rdquo; scoffed Nancy. &ldquo;Her cousin died suddenly down to
+      Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+      after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three days.
+      Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest
+      you and me, all that time. We will, we will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss
+      Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+      game,&rdquo; she reproached her gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't help it, Nancy,&rdquo; she argued with a shake of her head. &ldquo;It must be
+      that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game on&mdash;and
+      I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral to be glad
+      about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can be glad 'tain't our'n,&rdquo; she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+      not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+      open-mouthed, was listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+      according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+      keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, maybe 'tis natural,&rdquo; he sighed. &ldquo;Of course things you don't know
+      about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+      side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter
+      somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody over
+      in India wanted ME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+      Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West&mdash;but
+      that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+      come all the way here as I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy's face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think they would&mdash;truly&mdash;take me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring up?
+      Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time. I reckon
+      you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait. I'll write
+      'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got
+      the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most&mdash;which is kind of
+      funny, isn't it?&mdash;when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+      Aiders will take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right&mdash;but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an'
+      keep,&rdquo; put in Jimmy. &ldquo;I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even
+      with Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.&rdquo; He hesitated, then added: &ldquo;An' I
+      s'pose I better stay where I be fur a spell yet&mdash;till you hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna emphatically. &ldquo;Then I'll know just where to
+      find you. And they'll take you&mdash;I'm sure you're far enough away for
+      that. Didn't Aunt Polly take&mdash;Say!&rdquo; she broke off, suddenly, &ldquo;DO you
+      suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,&rdquo; grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+      said to her aunt one morning:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+      calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow wouldn't&mdash;this
+      once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?&rdquo; sighed her aunt. &ldquo;You ARE
+      the most extraordinary child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+      can't be ORdinary, can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly can not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, her face clearing. &ldquo;You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs. Rawson
+      was a very ordinary woman&mdash;and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+      awful. They were always fight&mdash;I mean, father had&mdash;that is, I
+      mean, WE had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between
+      any of the rest of the Aiders,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless
+      from her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands
+      in regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+      present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, never mind,&rdquo; interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle impatiently.
+      &ldquo;You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're talking about you
+      always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, &ldquo;I reckon I do, maybe. But you see
+      they used to bring me up, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted a cold voice. &ldquo;Now what is it about
+      this jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+      take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM&mdash;this once. You see,
+      broken legs aren't like&mdash;like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+      forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+      after just once or twice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+      were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods, you
+      know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and the
+      doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came away
+      and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs. Snow
+      this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him instead
+      of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I suppose so,&rdquo; acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. &ldquo;Who
+      did you say he was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JOHN PENDLETON!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do YOU know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles&mdash;now. He's only cross OUTSIDE,
+      you know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+      in,&rdquo; finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've changed
+      my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day&mdash;as
+      usual. That is all. You may go now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+      things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last&mdash;I
+      mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,&rdquo;
+       said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but&mdash;I do not care to be sending
+      jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, he is cross&mdash;outside,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna, sadly, &ldquo;so I
+      suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say
+      'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped, and
+      asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know who you&mdash;are, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me it&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know where you&mdash;live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I never told him that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he doesn't know you're my&mdash;niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna with
+      eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+      impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+      Polly roused herself with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+      unlike her own; &ldquo;you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+      own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does not
+      think I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm&mdash;no'm&mdash;thank you, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, as she
+      flew through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when she
+      made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows were
+      open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard, and the
+      doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the bell&mdash;her
+      fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch of keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but there
+      was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the clothes
+      opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo;
+       smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+      hand. &ldquo;Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+      and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo; he asked genially. &ldquo;That will be fine! Maybe
+      you'd like to see our patient, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+      from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+      vast surprise on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+      gave a disturbed exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit&mdash;any
+      one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, imperturbably. &ldquo;But I'm giving orders now.
+      I'll take the risk.&rdquo; Then he added whimsically: &ldquo;You don't know, of
+      course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+      any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton this
+      afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+      acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients do&mdash;I'm
+      thankful to say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this wonder-working&mdash;tonic
+      of hers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+      unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+      happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated to
+      me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor of most
+      of them. All is,&rdquo; he added, with another whimsical smile, as he stepped
+      out on to the porch, &ldquo;I wish I could prescribe her&mdash;and buy her&mdash;as
+      I would a box of pills;&mdash;though if there gets to be many of her in
+      the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and ditch-digging
+      for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,&rdquo; he laughed,
+      picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+      escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+      as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+      had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+      same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk, and
+      not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in its
+      proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+      mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+      way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+      bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, sir, here&mdash;here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+      doctor said I was to&mdash;to bring her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+      man lying flat on his back in bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, didn't I say&mdash;&rdquo; began an angry voice. &ldquo;Oh, it's you!&rdquo; it
+      broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see, at
+      first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't going to
+      see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might. Wasn't he
+      lovely to let me see you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he said
+      was &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I've brought you some jelly,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna; &ldquo;&mdash;calf's-foot.
+      I hope you like it?&rdquo; There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never ate it.&rdquo; The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+      to the man's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but it
+      cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+      anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if you
+      knew&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that I'm
+      flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay here&mdash;till
+      doomsday, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+      blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it will&mdash;oh,
+      of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than we think, but I
+      don't think it will&mdash;that is, of course I believe the Bible; but I
+      mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would if it should
+      come now, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton laughed suddenly&mdash;and aloud. The nurse, coming in at
+      that moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried&mdash;but a very silent&mdash;retreat.
+      He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath of
+      cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren't you getting a little mixed?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last&mdash;broken ones, you
+      know&mdash;like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours
+      won't last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am,&rdquo; retorted the man grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.&rdquo; Pollyanna
+      was warming to her task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course! So fortunate,&rdquo; sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+      &ldquo;looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't a
+      centipede and didn't break fifty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's the best yet,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;I know what a centipede is;
+      they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course,&rdquo; interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+      coming back to his voice; &ldquo;I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I suppose&mdash;the
+      nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the kitchen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, sir&mdash;only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have
+      them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em&mdash;and
+      you lying here like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+      matter,&rdquo; retorted the man, testily, &ldquo;because I am lying here like this!
+      And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+      disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who aids
+      and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the doctor
+      who eggs 'em both on&mdash;and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+      expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad&mdash;about the money&mdash;when you've
+      been saving it, too, all this time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saving it&mdash;buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+      beans?&mdash;or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+      cents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your money, you know&mdash;denying yourself, and saving it for the
+      heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one of
+      the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy told you I was saving money for the&mdash;Well, may I inquire who
+      Nancy is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a sudden movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss&mdash;Polly&mdash;Harrington!&rdquo; he breathed. &ldquo;You live with&mdash;HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up&mdash;on account of my
+      mother, you know,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. &ldquo;She was her
+      sister. And after father&mdash;went to be with her and the rest of us in
+      Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid; so
+      she took me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+      very white&mdash;so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose
+      uncertainly to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe I'd better go now,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;I&mdash;I hope you'll
+      like&mdash;the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a curious
+      longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at which she
+      marvelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you are&mdash;Miss Polly Harrington's niece,&rdquo; he said gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+      vaguely restless, murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I suppose you know&mdash;her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; I know her.&rdquo; He hesitated, then went on, still with that curious
+      smile. &ldquo;But&mdash;you don't mean&mdash;you can't mean that it was Miss
+      Polly Harrington who sent that jelly&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you think
+      she did send it. But I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+      And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The nurse
+      stood on the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?&rdquo; asked
+      the doctor smilingly. &ldquo;I started to drive on a few minutes ago; then it
+      occurred to me that I'd wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna,
+      as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you?&rdquo; smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young man
+      on the steps. &ldquo;Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many things
+      you 'love' to do&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he added, as they drove briskly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;I like to
+      do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other things
+      very well&mdash;sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+      aren't LIVING.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No? What are they, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, with a
+      rueful smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled now&mdash;a little queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does she? Well, I should think she might say&mdash;just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; responded Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+      think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I'm afraid some of us&mdash;do have to, little girl,&rdquo; he said.
+      Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at his face,
+      felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished, uneasily, that
+      she could &ldquo;do something.&rdquo; It was this, perhaps, that caused her to say in
+      a timid voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+      kind of a business there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Gladdest'!&mdash;when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?&rdquo;
+       he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; but you're HELPING it&mdash;don't you see?&mdash;and of course
+      you're glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us,
+      all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was a
+      singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room office
+      in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking now into
+      Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been suddenly
+      laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again would a long
+      day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without that new-found
+      exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, little girl,&rdquo; he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+      smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: &ldquo;And I'm thinking,
+      after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+      needed a draft of that tonic!&rdquo; All of which puzzled Pollyanna very much&mdash;until
+      a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter from her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+      sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,&rdquo; announced
+      Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. &ldquo;He's lovely, Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+      gladdest one there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&mdash;goin' ter see sick folks&mdash;an' folks what ain't sick but
+      thinks they is, which is worse?&rdquo; Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad, even
+      then. Guess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this game
+      of &ldquo;being glad&rdquo; quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+      studying out Pollyanna's &ldquo;posers,&rdquo; too, as she called some of the little
+      girl's questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know,&rdquo; she chuckled. &ldquo;It's just the opposite from what you told
+      Mis' Snow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Opposite?&rdquo; repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like her&mdash;all
+      sick, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks&mdash;the
+      sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,&rdquo; finished Nancy in triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+      way I said; and&mdash;someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it.
+      It isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but&mdash;You
+      do play the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed, as she went into
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that man&mdash;the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+       questioned the lady a little sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! What was he doing&mdash;here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You TOLD him I didn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+      that he did not think I DID!&mdash;which is a very different matter from
+      TELLING him outright that I did not send it.&rdquo; And she turned vexedly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as
+      she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+      which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+      committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+      o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by the
+      damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened pins had
+      given leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,&rdquo; she cried
+      rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+      sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got what, you impossible child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+      they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?&mdash;'fore I get to Heaven, I
+      mean,&rdquo; she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks above
+      her ears. &ldquo;But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You can't
+      hide the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does all this mean?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+      removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;please, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to
+      one of distressed appeal. &ldquo;Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm
+      talking about&mdash;those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      they're so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+      other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it isn't nonsense,&rdquo; urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of her
+      aunt's remarks. &ldquo;You don't know how pretty you look with your hair like
+      that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+      Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+      be ever so much prettier than she was!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; (Miss Polly spoke very sharply&mdash;all the more sharply
+      because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+      had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+      &ldquo;loved&rdquo; to see her &ldquo;pretty&rdquo;?) &ldquo;Pollyanna, you did not answer my question.
+      Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went and
+      found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then I wrote
+      to MY Ladies' Aiders&mdash;'cause Jimmy is far away from them, you know;
+      and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same as&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL let me do
+      your hair, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat&mdash;the old, helpless feeling was
+      upon her, she knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+      them, I was so ashamed! I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't!&mdash;You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,&rdquo; she crowed
+      triumphantly; &ldquo;and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round, sort of&mdash;like
+      it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you didn't send, but
+      didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now wait just where you
+      are. I'll get a comb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the little
+      girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did you come up here?&rdquo; Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+      Polly's own room. &ldquo;That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit down,
+      please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+      found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her hair
+      already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,&rdquo; prattled Pollyanna; &ldquo;and there's so
+      much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need more,
+      anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks can see it.
+      My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it&mdash;and surprised,
+      too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make you so
+      pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm
+      sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to look
+      at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much happier
+      when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other kind I'm so
+      sorry for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I just love to do folks' hair,&rdquo; purred Pollyanna, contentedly. &ldquo;I did
+      quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'&mdash;but there wasn't any of them so
+      nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked just
+      lovely one day when I dressed her up in&mdash;Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+      happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell. Now
+      your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you just a
+      minute; and you must promise&mdash;promise&mdash;PROMISE not to stir nor
+      peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!&rdquo; she finished, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+      should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+      hair up properly again. As for &ldquo;peeking&rdquo; just as if she cared how&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment&mdash;unaccountably&mdash;Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
+      herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a
+      flush of rosy color to her cheeks that&mdash;she only flushed the more at
+      the sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw a face&mdash;not young, it is true&mdash;but just now alight with
+      excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes sparkled.
+      The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay in loose waves
+      about the forehead and curved back over the ears in wonderfully becoming
+      lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+      that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+      heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+      felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+      you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+      take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna,&rdquo; began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, &ldquo;you
+      must take this off! You&mdash;child, child! what ARE you doing?&rdquo; she
+      gasped, as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she was
+      draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful lace
+      shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+      lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+      been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+      was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+      should not be &ldquo;dressed up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+      but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled her
+      aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose blooming
+      on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?&rdquo; recoiled Aunt
+      Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. &ldquo;Pollyanna, I shall not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's just to the sun parlor&mdash;only a minute! I'll have you ready now
+      quicker'n no time,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and thrusting
+      it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she exulted,
+      untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit of linen far
+      from her. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I dressed you up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+      surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+      following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through the
+      open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+      driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+      she leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; smiled the doctor, a little gravely. &ldquo;Will you come down, please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman plucking
+      at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, how could you?&rdquo; moaned the woman. &ldquo;To think of your rigging me
+      up like this, and then letting me&mdash;BE SEEN!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you looked lovely&mdash;perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Lovely'!&rdquo; scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+      attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay? Like this? As if I would!&rdquo; And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+      tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+      fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And you did look so pretty,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+      stumbled through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+      prescription filled,&rdquo; announced the doctor. &ldquo;Will you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;an errand&mdash;to the drug store?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna, a
+      little uncertainly. &ldquo;I used to go some&mdash;for the Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day, if
+      you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down after
+      you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before six
+      o'clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd love to!&rdquo; exclaimed Pollyanna. &ldquo;Let me ask Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't&mdash;your aunt want you to go?&rdquo; asked the doctor, a little
+      diffidently, as they drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;She&mdash;she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+      afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+      'Yes, yes, run along, run along&mdash;do! I wish you'd gone before.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled&mdash;but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave.
+      For some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wasn't it&mdash;your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago&mdash;in the
+      window of the sun parlor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed her
+      up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed her
+      hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think she
+      looked just lovely?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was so
+      low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I thought she did look&mdash;just lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,&rdquo; nodded the little girl,
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never! Pollyanna, I&mdash;I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+      her&mdash;that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she might not be,&rdquo; cut in the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so&mdash;maybe she wouldn't,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I remember now; 'twas
+      'cause she saw you that she ran. And she&mdash;she spoke afterwards about
+      her being seen in that rig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; declared the doctor, under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, I don't see why,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna, &ldquo;&mdash;when she looked so
+      pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they were
+      almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a broken
+      leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. &ldquo;JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <h3>
+      John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+      person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see why
+      I shouldn't be, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+      other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when you
+      found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't think I've
+      ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would admit that you
+      were very forgiving to come and see me, after such ungrateful treatment as
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was glad to find you&mdash;that is, I don't mean I was glad your
+      leg was broken, of course,&rdquo; she corrected hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while, doesn't
+      it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you a very
+      brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for the jelly,
+      too,&rdquo; he added in a lighter voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you like it?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much. I suppose&mdash;there isn't any more to-day that&mdash;that
+      Aunt Polly DIDN'T send, is there?&rdquo; he asked with an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir.&rdquo; She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. &ldquo;Please,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+      Polly did NOT send the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+      straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+      beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and turned
+      to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous fretfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see me
+      moping this time. Listen! Out in the library&mdash;the big room where the
+      telephone is, you know&mdash;you will find a carved box on the lower shelf
+      of the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+      That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated' it to
+      somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too heavy for
+      you to carry, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm awfully strong,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang to
+      her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was full
+      of treasures&mdash;curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+      travel&mdash;and concerning each there was some entertaining story,
+      whether it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a
+      little jade idol from India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+      murmured wistfully:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to bring
+      up&mdash;one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in that
+      doll-thing&mdash;than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+      knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+      Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring straight
+      before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself, and had
+      picked up another curio to talk about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+      Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides the
+      wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking of
+      herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+      talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+      Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm lonesome,
+      and I need you. There's another reason&mdash;and I'm going to tell you
+      that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were, the other
+      day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded me of&mdash;of
+      something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said to myself that
+      I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the doctor asked if I
+      wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that&mdash;that
+      the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+      vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+      Will you&mdash;little girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+      sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. &ldquo;I'd
+      love to come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said John Pendleton, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+      Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+      more wonderful things it contained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ter think,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, &ldquo;that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+      told ye about 'em like that&mdash;him that's so cross he never talks ter
+      no one&mdash;no one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,&rdquo; demurred Pollyanna, with
+      quick loyalty. &ldquo;I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either. They
+      wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him very
+      well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so afraid
+      he'd think she did send it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably she didn't call him no duty,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;But what beats me
+      is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna&mdash;meanin' no
+      offence ter you, of course&mdash;but he ain't the sort o' man what
+      gen'rally takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he did, Nancy,&rdquo; she nodded, &ldquo;only I reckon even he didn't want to&mdash;ALL
+      the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he just felt he never
+      wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of something he wanted to
+      forget. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; interrupted Nancy, excitedly. &ldquo;He said you reminded him of
+      something he wanted to forget?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it?&rdquo; Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;THE MYSTERY!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. &ldquo;That's why he took
+      to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just like a
+      book&mdash;I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+      Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'&mdash;all of 'em had mysteries and things
+      just like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+      right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+      tell me everythin'&mdash;everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a
+      dear! No wonder he took ter you; no wonder&mdash;no wonder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he didn't,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, &ldquo;not till <i>I</i> talked to HIM, first.
+      And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+      had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know&mdash;I KNOW I know!&rdquo; she exulted
+      rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again. &ldquo;Tell
+      me&mdash;now think, and answer straight and true,&rdquo; she urged excitedly.
+      &ldquo;It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+      didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; triumphed Nancy. &ldquo;And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+      jelly herself, would she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you told him she didn't send it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes; I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you was
+      her niece. He did that, didn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer&mdash;over that jelly,&rdquo; admitted
+      Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+      HARRINGTON'S LOVER!&rdquo; she announced impressively, but with a furtive glance
+      over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,&rdquo; objected Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+      happily settled herself to tell the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had had
+      a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't&mdash;her and a lover! But
+      Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+      NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in his
+      life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never speak
+      ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss Polly's
+      niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of somethin' he
+      wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas Miss Polly!&mdash;an'
+      her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why, Miss Pollyanna, it's
+      as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. &ldquo;But, Nancy, I should
+      think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both of 'em all
+      alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to make up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You ain't
+      big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the world that
+      wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n, it'd be a pair
+      o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he cross as sticks,
+      most gen'rally?&mdash;and ain't she&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about whom,
+      she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+      slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it&mdash;so they
+      WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some&mdash;Miss
+      Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+      her face was very thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+      great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her visits
+      were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her there&mdash;he
+      sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was there, he seemed
+      scarcely any the happier for her presence&mdash;at least, so Pollyanna
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+      beautiful things&mdash;books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+      audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+      and &ldquo;regulatings&rdquo; of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+      indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+      talked, Pollyanna liked to talk&mdash;but she was never sure that she
+      would not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white,
+      hurt look that always pained her; and she was never sure which&mdash;if
+      any&mdash;of her words had brought it there. As for telling him the &ldquo;glad
+      game,&rdquo; and trying to get him to play it&mdash;Pollyanna had never seen the
+      time yet when she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice
+      tried to tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of
+      what her father had said&mdash;John Pendleton had on each occasion turned
+      the conversation abruptly to another subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+      one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart, she
+      wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her mind&mdash;miserably
+      lonely lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked to Mr.
+      Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely, sometimes
+      irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually stern lips.
+      She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton&mdash;or rather, she tried to
+      talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly would not
+      listen&mdash;long. She always found something else to talk about. She
+      frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of others&mdash;of
+      Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to the fact that
+      it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor with the rose
+      in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders. Aunt Polly,
+      indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as Pollyanna found
+      out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,&rdquo; Aunt Polly
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,&rdquo; gurgled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I'd love to
+      have Dr. Chilton come to see me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,&rdquo; Miss Polly said sternly. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren&mdash;if
+      you are worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, too,&rdquo; Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. &ldquo;Of
+      course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better, and
+      I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't really
+      to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed you up
+      so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she finished wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr. Chilton&mdash;or
+      his feelings,&rdquo; reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes; then
+      she sighed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+      but I would so like to fix your hair. If&mdash;Why, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; But her
+      aunt was already out of sight down the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+      call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and green
+      edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped short in
+      awed delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow&mdash;a real rainbow come in to
+      pay you a visit!&rdquo; she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly. &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh,
+      how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+      sorts with the world this morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+      thermometer in the window,&rdquo; he said wearily. &ldquo;The sun shouldn't strike it
+      at all but it does in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that? My!
+      if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,&rdquo; laughed the man.
+      &ldquo;How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was, if
+      the thermometer hung in the sun all day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't care,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+      brilliant band of colors across the pillow. &ldquo;Just as if anybody'd care
+      when they were living all the time in a rainbow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little curiously.
+      Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nora,&rdquo; he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, &ldquo;bring me one
+      of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute she
+      had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she advanced
+      wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants encircling the
+      old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,&rdquo; directed the man. &ldquo;Now get
+      a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window there.
+      Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight across the
+      window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,&rdquo; he said, when she
+      had carried out his directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+      pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by side,
+      on the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+      Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow&mdash;I
+      don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+      before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+      then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up the
+      rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a low
+      cry of delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had become a fairyland&mdash;that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+      Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange, gold and
+      blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed itself, were
+      aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+      &ldquo;I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't you?&rdquo;
+       she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not know
+      what she was talking about. &ldquo;Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those things!
+      How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow and&mdash;lots
+      of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think even Aunt
+      Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she lived in a
+      rainbow like that. Don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+      think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight to&mdash;to
+      make her bang many doors&mdash;for gladness. But come, now, really, what
+      do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you tell me, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from the
+      very first&mdash;from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+      talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+      dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that's all,&rdquo; she sighed, when she had finished. &ldquo;And now you know why
+      I said the sun was trying to play it&mdash;that game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+      unsteadily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+      yourself, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+      shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you?&rdquo; smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+      wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: &ldquo;I'm afraid,
+      Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me. Aunt
+      Polly says it DOES make them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh had
+      sounded almost like a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+      that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+      happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+      certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They were
+      soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna confessed
+      that going to school WAS living, after all&mdash;though she had had her
+      doubts before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her old
+      friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of course;
+      but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton, of them
+      all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?&rdquo; he
+      asked, a little impatiently. &ldquo;I don't see anything of you, nowadays.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed&mdash;Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made a wry face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+      yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll be on
+      my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps around,&rdquo;
+       he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and shaking it
+      playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great library
+      to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you are,&rdquo;
+       pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire. &ldquo;You know
+      you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton&mdash;you know you
+      don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's why I want you, little girl&mdash;to help me play it. Will you
+      come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do. I want you. Will you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't&mdash;you know I can't. Why, I'm&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're no more hers than&mdash;Perhaps she would let you come to me,&rdquo; he
+      finished more gently. &ldquo;Would you come&mdash;if she did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly has been so&mdash;good to me,&rdquo; she began slowly; &ldquo;and she
+      took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time, when
+      he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+      her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in our
+      home all the long years to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+      that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been a
+      house&mdash;never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+      presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+      you come, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you&mdash;you mean that you wish you&mdash;you had had
+      that woman's hand and heart all this time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,&rdquo; sighed the little girl. &ldquo;Now you
+      can take us both, and everything will be lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;you&mdash;both?&rdquo; repeated the man, dazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will be
+      if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly come&mdash;HERE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you rather go THERE?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Of course the house isn't quite
+      so pretty, but it's nearer&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?&rdquo; asked the man, very gently now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, about where we're going to live, of course,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, in
+      obvious surprise. &ldquo;I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it was
+      here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years to
+      make a home, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+      began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at his
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor, sir,&rdquo; said the maid in the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you&mdash;yet,&rdquo;
+       he begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her yourself!&rdquo;
+       she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what's up?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on his
+      patient's galloping pulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Overdose of your&mdash;tonic, I guess,&rdquo; he laughed, as he noted the
+      doctor's eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+      Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+      planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook her
+      in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he suggested. &ldquo;I want to
+      speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to tell you,&rdquo;
+       he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton sent
+      a special request for you to go to see him this afternoon, SURE. He says
+      it's very important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,&rdquo; he declared, his eyes
+      twinkling. &ldquo;You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+      lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it wasn't me, truly&mdash;not really, you know; not so much as it was
+      Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned with a quick start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your&mdash;aunt!&rdquo; he ejaculated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know. I&mdash;I'm
+      going to tell you,&rdquo; she burst out, with sudden decision. &ldquo;He said not to
+      mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He meant not to
+      mention it to HER.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HER?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself instead
+      of having me do it&mdash;lovers, so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&rdquo; As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as if
+      the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, happily. &ldquo;That's the story-part, you see. I
+      didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+      ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+      found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to his
+      lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! No; I&mdash;didn't know,&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hurried on&mdash;they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked me to
+      come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly like
+      that&mdash;after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about the
+      woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+      wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up the
+      quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both
+      go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course Aunt Polly
+      doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I suppose that
+      is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does&mdash;want to see
+      you, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's Aunt Polly now in the window,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+      later: &ldquo;Why, no, she isn't&mdash;but I thought I saw her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she isn't there&mdash;now,&rdquo; said the doctor, His lips had suddenly
+      lost their smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+      afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once. &ldquo;I've been trying all night to puzzle out
+      what you meant by all that, yesterday&mdash;about my wanting your Aunt
+      Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you still
+      felt that way now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&mdash;your Aunt Polly and I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man gave a short little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy&mdash;didn't
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you&mdash;weren't lovers?&rdquo; Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;I'd have been so glad to come&mdash;with Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you won't&mdash;now?&rdquo; The man asked the question without turning his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were&mdash;your mother's. And&mdash;it
+      was your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+      that I do&mdash;now.&rdquo; John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He was
+      speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and frightened,
+      and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. &ldquo;I loved your mother; but
+      she&mdash;didn't love me. And after a time she went away with&mdash;your
+      father. I did not know until then how much I did&mdash;care. The whole
+      world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and&mdash;But, never
+      mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable, unloved old
+      man&mdash;though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, One day, like
+      one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my
+      life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the purple and gold
+      and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out, after a time, who
+      you were, and&mdash;and I thought then I never wanted to see you again. I
+      didn't want to be reminded of&mdash;your mother. But&mdash;you know how
+      that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you always.
+      Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;There's Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were
+      blurred with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made an impatient gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about anything&mdash;without
+      you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that I've been even half
+      glad to live! But if I had you for my own little girl, I'd be glad for&mdash;anything;
+      and I'd try to make you glad, too, my dear. You shouldn't have a wish
+      ungratified. All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me&mdash;all that money
+      you've saved for the heathen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna was
+      still talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me to
+      make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving them
+      things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look at those
+      prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her
+      birthday, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes&mdash;never mind about all that,&rdquo; interrupted the man. His face
+      was very, very red now&mdash;and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for
+      &ldquo;giving things&rdquo; that John Pendleton had been best known in the past.
+      &ldquo;That's all nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow&mdash;but what there was, was
+      because of you. YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,&rdquo; he repeated,
+      in answer to the shocked denial in her face. &ldquo;And that only goes to prove
+      all the more how I need you, little girl,&rdquo; he added, his voice softening
+      into tender pleading once more. &ldquo;If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad
+      game,' Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly has been so good to me,&rdquo; she began; but the man interrupted
+      her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+      which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's nature
+      too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll warrant,
+      half so much as I do,&rdquo; he contested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. &ldquo;I'll
+      wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad&mdash;for anything! Oh, she
+      does her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience
+      with her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of
+      friends for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one
+      knows her&mdash;and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know
+      how to be. As for your coming to me&mdash;you just ask her and see if she
+      won't let you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!&rdquo; he
+      finished brokenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll ask her,&rdquo; she said wistfully. &ldquo;Of course I don't mean
+      that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but&mdash;&rdquo; She
+      did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+      added: &ldquo;Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;&mdash;'cause
+      then I supposed SHE was wanted, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention it&mdash;yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't&mdash;only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor!&rdquo; cried John Pendleton, turning quickly. &ldquo;Not&mdash;Dr.&mdash;Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; muttered the man, falling back in his chair.
+      Then he sat up with sudden interest. &ldquo;And what did Dr. Chilton say?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+      imagine you did want to see me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did he, indeed!&rdquo; answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered why
+      he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching thunder
+      shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendleton's house.
+      Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that time, however, the
+      clouds had shifted their position and the shower was not so imminent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,&rdquo; announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+      critically. &ldquo;I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+      come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she?&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter notice what I said,&rdquo; she observed aggrievedly. &ldquo;I said
+      yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so soon
+      to ask her aunt. &ldquo;I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm glad,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. &ldquo;I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the way
+      to play the game&mdash;to be glad for things like that!&rdquo; she objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There wa'n't no game in it,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;Never thought of it. YOU
+      don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+      child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it means worried&mdash;and worried is horrid&mdash;to feel,&rdquo;
+       maintained Pollyanna. &ldquo;What else can it mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy tossed her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+      somewheres near human&mdash;like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+      duty by ye all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy,&rdquo; demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, &ldquo;Aunt Polly always does
+      her duty. She&mdash;she's a very dutiful woman!&rdquo; Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're right she is&mdash;and she always was, I guess! But she's
+      somethin' more, now, since you came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;Do you
+      think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind&mdash;if if I
+      wasn't here any more?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+      expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded it.
+      She had wondered how she should answer it&mdash;how she could answer it
+      honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in the face
+      of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the afternoon's
+      umbrella-sending&mdash;Nancy only welcomed the question with open arms.
+      She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set the
+      love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?&rdquo; cried
+      Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+      Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+      cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+      you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+      remember how at first she hated ter have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,&rdquo; rushed on
+      Nancy, breathlessly. &ldquo;It's little ways she has, that shows how you've been
+      softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down&mdash;the cat, and the dog, and
+      the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+      there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye&mdash;if ye wa'n't here,&rdquo;
+       finished Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to
+      hide the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was
+      not quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad&mdash;glad&mdash;glad! You don't know how glad I
+      am that Aunt Polly&mdash;wants me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I'd leave her now!&rdquo; thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs to
+      her room a little later. &ldquo;I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt Polly&mdash;but
+      I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt Polly&mdash;to
+      want to live with ME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an easy
+      one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+      Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him&mdash;because he seemed to be so
+      sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that had
+      made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of her
+      mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great gray
+      house as it would be after its master was well again, with its silent
+      rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart ached for
+      his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be found who&mdash;And
+      it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a little cry of joy
+      at the thought that had come to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+      Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+      library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+      hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog at
+      his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of my
+      life?&rdquo; asked the man, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+      thing for you to do, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With&mdash;YOU?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern
+      at the corners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!&rdquo; interrupted a voice deep with
+      emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she REFUSE&mdash;to let you&mdash;come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I didn't ask her,&rdquo; stammered the little girl, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved gaze
+      of her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you didn't even ask her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't, sir&mdash;truly,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. &ldquo;You see, I found out&mdash;without
+      asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and&mdash;and I want to stay, too,&rdquo;
+       she confessed bravely. &ldquo;You don't know how good she's been to me; and&mdash;and
+      I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad about things&mdash;lots
+      of things. And you know she never used to be. You said it yourself. Oh,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+      broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her&mdash;now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      won't ask you&mdash;again.&rdquo; The last word was so low it was almost
+      inaudible; but Pollyanna heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,&rdquo; she reminded him eagerly.
+      &ldquo;There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do&mdash;truly there is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not for me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a&mdash;a woman's hand and
+      heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for you&mdash;a
+      child's presence;&mdash;not me, you know, but another one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I would have any but you!&rdquo; resented an indignant voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will&mdash;when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of
+      the prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the
+      heathen, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; interrupted the man, savagely. &ldquo;Once for all let us end that
+      nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There is no
+      money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life. There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected&mdash;the
+      grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+      there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There was
+      only surprised joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh!&rdquo; she cried, clapping her hands. &ldquo;I'm so glad! That is,&rdquo; she
+      corrected, coloring distressfully, &ldquo;I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+      the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want the
+      little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm glad
+      you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;WHO?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+      to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+      wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now&mdash;when he hears
+      of this&mdash;he'll be so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will he? Well, I won't,&rdquo; ejaculated the man, decisively. &ldquo;Pollyanna, this
+      is sheer nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;you won't take him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly do mean just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he'd be a lovely child's presence,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. She was
+      almost crying now. &ldquo;And you COULDN'T be lonesome&mdash;with Jimmy 'round.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined the man; &ldquo;but&mdash;I think I prefer the
+      lonesomeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+      remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+      aggrievedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+      dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SKELETON?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what&mdash;&rdquo; Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+      laughed very heartily indeed&mdash;so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+      from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+      promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I suspect you are right&mdash;more right than you know,&rdquo; he
+      said gently. &ldquo;In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+      better than&mdash;my skeleton in the closet; only&mdash;we aren't always
+      willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to&mdash;our
+      skeletons, Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about
+      this nice little boy.&rdquo; And Pollyanna told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+      story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+      strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night she
+      carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the great
+      house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as she
+      said good-by. &ldquo;I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home&mdash;and folks that
+      care, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+      Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+      that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+      His children of men had wrought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+      conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse; until
+      it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+      wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+      rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had prayed&mdash;earnestly,
+      hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own that matters were no
+      better, but rather worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something that only
+      endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most energetic
+      women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society because a tiny
+      spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a devouring flame
+      of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo work given to a
+      fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor Society was in a
+      ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its officers. As to
+      the Sunday school&mdash;it had been the resignation of its superintendent
+      and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and that had sent
+      the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and meditation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+      squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done&mdash;and
+      done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+      Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+      the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True, a
+      few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+      purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+      of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+      to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+      (God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+      suffering; and must suffer still more unless&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+      next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled into
+      stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on which he
+      had determined to speak:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the
+      kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, neither
+      suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows'
+      houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive
+      the greater damnation.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+      mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+      law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+      leave the other undone.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+      minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+      squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+      vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+      should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His people!&mdash;they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it?
+      Dare he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words
+      that would follow&mdash;his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had
+      pleaded earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed&mdash;oh, how
+      earnestly he longed!&mdash;to take now, in this crisis, the right step.
+      But was this&mdash;the right step?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+      pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down at
+      the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+      found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You&mdash;YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or&mdash;or
+      anything, have you?&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear&mdash;no, indeed! I'm just&mdash;resting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. &ldquo;That's all right, then.
+      You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him&mdash;but he
+      was lying down, though. And you are sitting up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything&mdash;that doctors
+      can mend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+      crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what you mean&mdash;something plagues you. Father used to feel
+      like that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do&mdash;most generally. You
+      see there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+      Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+      don't know all the family histories.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;I mean, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+      tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled some
+      papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at them.
+      He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance away&mdash;and
+      it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead. Pollyanna, looking
+      at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&mdash;it's a nice day,&rdquo; she began hopefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+      start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Oh!&mdash;yes, it is a very nice day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,&rdquo; observed
+      Pollyanna, still more hopefully. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said he
+      didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires, don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+      she tried again&mdash;by a new route.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do You like being a minister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I like&mdash;Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+      used to look like that&mdash;sometimes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+      the dried leaf on the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+      minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;what did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too, that
+      he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing texts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;WHAT?&rdquo; The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+      wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's what father used to call 'em,&rdquo; she laughed. &ldquo;Of course the
+      Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in the
+      Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that, you know&mdash;such
+      a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he counted 'em. There
+      were eight hundred of 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eight hundred!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why
+      father named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen to
+      the words on the top paper in his hands&mdash;&ldquo;But woe unto you, scribes
+      and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; &ldquo;And so your father&mdash;liked those
+      'rejoicing texts,'&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. &ldquo;He said he felt better right
+      away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+      trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+      want us to do it&mdash;SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done
+      it more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+      things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight&mdash;I mean, when
+      they DIDN'T AGREE about something,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Why, it
+      was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the game&mdash;he
+      began with ME on the crutches&mdash;but he said 'twas the rejoicing texts
+      that started him on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what game might that be?&rdquo; asked the minister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As I
+      said, he began with me on the crutches.&rdquo; And once more Pollyanna told her
+      story&mdash;this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+      understanding ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+      hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+      been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+      about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister wanted
+      to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+      and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking. Near
+      him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper&mdash;his sermon notes.
+      Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper, blank&mdash;his
+      sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of what he had
+      written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination he was far
+      away in a little Western town with a missionary minister who was poor,
+      sick, worried, and almost alone in the world&mdash;but who was poring over
+      the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had told him to
+      &ldquo;rejoice and be glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+      back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23,&rdquo; he wrote; then, with a gesture
+      of impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+      on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+      turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to fill
+      his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to go and
+      bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went. Why?
+      Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to do the
+      right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said to your
+      mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill that
+      woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as Tom was
+      concerned!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On and on read the minister&mdash;a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+      somewhere else:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting powers
+      should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always harping on a
+      man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of
+      bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL self that can dare
+      and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful
+      character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town.... People
+      radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a man feels kindly
+      and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too, before long. But if
+      he scolds and scowls and criticizes&mdash;his neighbors will return scowl
+      for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for the bad, expecting it,
+      you will get it. When you know you will find the good&mdash;you will get
+      that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox&mdash;then
+      watch him start, alert and interested!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was on
+      his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth. Later,
+      some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in the chair
+      at his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God helping me, I'll do it!&rdquo; he cried softly. &ldquo;I'll tell all my Toms I
+      KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do, and
+      I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't have
+      TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!&rdquo; And he picked up his sermon
+      notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that
+      on one side of his chair lay &ldquo;But woe unto you,&rdquo; and on the other,
+      &ldquo;scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; while across the smooth white paper
+      before him his pencil fairly flew&mdash;after first drawing one black line
+      through Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was a
+      veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and child
+      that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+      that are upright in heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office to
+      get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it chanced,
+      Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?&rdquo; she
+      said, looking interestedly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;such as 'tis,&rdquo; he answered, as he wrote something on the pad of
+      paper in his hand; &ldquo;but it's a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna.
+      They're just rooms, that's all&mdash;not a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+      understanding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make
+      a home,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again; &ldquo;about the woman's hand
+      and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a woman's
+      hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean&mdash;if Mr.
+      Pendleton doesn't want him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+      does he?&rdquo; he asked evasively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't I&mdash;what?&rdquo; The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh&mdash;and I forgot.&rdquo; Pollyanna's face
+      showed suddenly a painful color. &ldquo;I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn't
+      Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we&mdash;we aren't
+      going there to live. You see, I told you it was&mdash;but I made a
+      mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,&rdquo; she finished anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,&rdquo; replied the doctor, a little
+      queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna in relief. &ldquo;You see you're
+      the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when
+      I said I'd told YOU.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The doctor's lips twitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it&mdash;when
+      'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+      Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're not always to be had&mdash;for the asking, little girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you could get 'em,&rdquo; she argued. The flattering
+      emphasis was unmistakable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+      again: &ldquo;I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite so&mdash;confident.
+      At least, they&mdash;they haven't shown themselves to be so&mdash;obliging,&rdquo;
+       he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean&mdash;you didn't try to get somebody's
+      hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;and couldn't, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+      people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs.
+      Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how
+      she is to take it. Was there anything else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sir; thank you, Sir,&rdquo; she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the
+      door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight:
+      &ldquo;Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you wanted and
+      couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+      hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance
+      in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was there
+      any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it
+      did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp and
+      unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a
+      white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and
+      put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr.
+      Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,&rdquo; Nancy was sobbing
+      to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in
+      the hushed room; &ldquo;ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face ter
+      see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and
+      yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death
+      himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they don't, they don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she hurt&mdash;bad?&rdquo; The old man's voice shook.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't no tellin',&rdquo; sobbed Nancy. &ldquo;She lay back that white an' still
+      she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead&mdash;an' Miss
+      Polly had oughter know, if any one would&mdash;she kept up such a
+      listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?&mdash;that&mdash;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Old Tom's face worked convulsively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an' strong,
+      too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I always
+      hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow&mdash;I did, I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where is she hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy. &ldquo;There's a little cut on her
+      blessed head, but 'tain't bad&mdash;that ain't&mdash;Miss Polly says. She
+      says she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you mean internally, Nancy,&rdquo; he said dryly. &ldquo;She's hurt
+      infernally, all right&mdash;plague take that autymobile!&mdash;but I don't
+      guess Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy, with a shake of her
+      head as she turned away. &ldquo;Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it till that
+      doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do&mdash;the biggest
+      washin' I ever see, I do, I do!&rdquo; she wailed, wringing her hands
+      helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+      Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+      cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+      shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he
+      had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking
+      than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at
+      present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A
+      trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all.
+      And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+      eyes and realized where she was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+      up?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,&rdquo; she moaned, falling
+      back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear, I wouldn't try&mdash;just yet,&rdquo; soothed her aunt quickly, but
+      very quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+      woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young woman nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell her,&rdquo; the lips said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+      scarcely let her speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+      now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, yes; I&mdash;I ran.&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted
+      her hand to her forehead. &ldquo;Why, it's&mdash;done up, and it&mdash;hurts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; but never mind. Just&mdash;just rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so&mdash;so
+      queer&mdash;only they don't FEEL&mdash;at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to her
+      feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me talk to you now,&rdquo; she began cheerily. &ldquo;I'm sure I
+      think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+      introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+      care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+      swallow these little white pills for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I don't want to be taken care of&mdash;that is, not for long! I want
+      to get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow?&rdquo; smiled the nurse, brightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But
+      just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what THEY'LL
+      do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; &ldquo;but I MUST go to
+      school day after to-morrow&mdash;there are examinations then, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+      automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+      into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she had
+      swallowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not go to school &ldquo;to-morrow,&rdquo; nor the &ldquo;day after to-morrow.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily when a brief
+      period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to her lips.
+      Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly until a week had
+      passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened somewhat, and her mind
+      awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be told all over again what
+      had occurred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,&rdquo; she sighed at last. &ldquo;Well, I'm
+      glad of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G-glad, Pollyanna?&rdquo; asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+      life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+      lifelong-invalids don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly&mdash;who had said nothing whatever about broken legs&mdash;got
+      suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+      room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+      down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her face
+      was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+      ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,&rdquo; she murmured contentedly.
+      &ldquo;That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't whooping cough&mdash;I've
+      had that, and it's horrid&mdash;and I'm glad 'tisn't appendicitis nor
+      measles, 'cause they're catching&mdash;measles are, I mean&mdash;and they
+      wouldn't let you stay here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to&mdash;to be glad for a good many things, my dear,&rdquo; faltered
+      Aunt Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. I've been thinking of 'em&mdash;lots of 'em&mdash;all the time I've
+      been looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr.
+      Pendleton gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said
+      yet. I don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+      &ldquo;Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+      times&mdash;and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'&mdash;by
+      folks that belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me
+      that; and of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had
+      belonged to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes were
+      full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room through
+      the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+      harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;You couldn't guess
+      in a thousand years&mdash;you couldn't, you couldn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I cal'late I won't try,&rdquo; retorted the man, grimly, &ldquo;specially as I
+      hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+      first off, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+      mistress? Who, I say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no tellin',&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's&mdash;John Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much I am&mdash;an' me a-lettin' him in myself&mdash;crutches an'
+      all! An' the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him,
+      jest as if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter
+      no one! jest think, Mr. Tom&mdash;HIM a-callin' on HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if you didn't know better'n me!&rdquo; she derided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you needn't be so innercent,&rdquo; she retorted with mock indignation; &ldquo;&mdash;you
+      what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do ye mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a step
+      nearer to the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the first
+      place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and I puts
+      'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five&mdash;an' no
+      four at all, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse sense,&rdquo;
+       he declared testily. &ldquo;I never was no hand for figgers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's this,&rdquo; she explained. &ldquo;I heard somethin' that made me think
+      him an' Miss Polly was lovers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MR. PENDLETON!&rdquo; Old Tom straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he was
+      in love with, and that's why he wanted&mdash;but never mind that part,&rdquo;
+       she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna not
+      to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+      &ldquo;Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+      that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's been
+      hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their names
+      tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom. &ldquo;It was three or four years after Miss
+      Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss Polly
+      knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter be nice
+      to him. Maybe she overdid it a little&mdash;she hated that minister chap
+      so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter make
+      trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Runnin' after any man&mdash;her!&rdquo; interjected Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it; but they did,&rdquo; declared Old Tom, &ldquo;and of course no gal of any
+      spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an' the
+      trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't have
+      nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to turn
+      bitter at the core.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy; &ldquo;an' that's why
+      you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the door&mdash;him,
+      what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went an' told
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did she say?&rdquo; Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin'&mdash;at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and
+      I was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+      Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+      out here an' told you,&rdquo; finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+      toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the ceremonious &ldquo;parlor&rdquo; of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+      Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of Miss
+      Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+      remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was coldly
+      reserved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called to ask for&mdash;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once, a little
+      brusquely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. She is about the same,&rdquo; said Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is&mdash;won't you tell me HOW she is?&rdquo; His voice was not quite
+      steady this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't, I wish I could!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;you don't know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;the doctor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren himself seems&mdash;at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+      New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but what WERE her injuries that you do know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and&mdash;and an injury to
+      the spine which has seemed to cause&mdash;paralysis from the hips down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily, he
+      asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Pollyanna&mdash;how does she&mdash;take it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She doesn't understand&mdash;at all&mdash;how things really are. And I
+      CAN'T tell her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she must know&mdash;something!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture that
+      had become so common to her of late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She knows she can't&mdash;move; but she thinks her legs are&mdash;broken.
+      She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+      'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+      the other&mdash;doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it&mdash;it
+      seems as if I should&mdash;die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+      opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back to
+      what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her presence:
+      &ldquo;Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+      control his voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get Pollyanna
+      to come and live with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With YOU!&mdash;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+      still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I wanted to adopt her&mdash;legally, you understand; making her my
+      heir, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to her,
+      suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for Pollyanna&mdash;this
+      adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough and mercenary
+      enough&mdash;to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very fond of Pollyanna,&rdquo; the man was continuing. &ldquo;I am fond of her
+      both for her own sake, and for&mdash;her mother's. I stood ready to give
+      Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;LOVE.&rdquo; Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child in the
+      first place&mdash;and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+      Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: &ldquo;I love to be called
+      'dear' by folks that belong to you!&rdquo; And it was this love-hungry little
+      girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five years:&mdash;and
+      she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking heart Miss Polly
+      realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized something else: the
+      dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that vibrated
+      through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not come,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She wanted
+      to stay with you&mdash;and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to stay,&rdquo;
+       he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+      the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+      shaking hand thrust toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the specialist comes, and I know anything&mdash;definite about
+      Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,&rdquo; said a trembling voice. &ldquo;Good-by&mdash;and
+      thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+      Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of the
+      specialist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, my dear,&rdquo; she began gently, &ldquo;we have decided that we want
+      another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+      something new to do&mdash;to help you get well faster, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've wanted
+      him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his seeing
+      you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+      anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+      But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+      speak lightly and cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+      doctor&mdash;a very famous doctor from New York, who&mdash;who knows a
+      great deal about&mdash;about hurts like yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg, Aunt
+      Polly. If&mdash;if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+      Chilton&mdash;truly I would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+      speak at all; then she said gently&mdash;though yet with a touch of her
+      old stern decisiveness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything&mdash;almost
+      anything for you, my dear; but I&mdash;for reasons which I do not care to
+      speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on&mdash;on this case.
+      And believe me, he can NOT know so much about&mdash;about your trouble, as
+      this great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT, Pollyanna?&rdquo; Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks were
+      very red, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, &ldquo;seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+      would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her feet
+      abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but I'm afraid
+      you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's already
+      arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come &ldquo;to-morrow.&rdquo; At
+      the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to the
+      sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+      renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton&mdash;&ldquo;which would be
+      so easy now, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said &ldquo;no, dear,&rdquo; very
+      decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+      anything&mdash;anything but that&mdash;to please her dear Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+      Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+      niece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't 'a' believed it&mdash;you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,&rdquo;
+       Nancy said to Old Tom one morning. &ldquo;There don't seem ter be a minute in
+      the day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+      for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat&mdash;an'
+      her what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+      ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+      Miss Pollyanna!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+      danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make the
+      'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy down
+      ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers&mdash;an' that besides
+      all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I didn't
+      find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her hair, an'
+      Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes all shinin'
+      an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't wore her hair
+      like that every day now&mdash;jest ter please that blessed child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the worse&mdash;for
+      wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,&rdquo; he observed dryly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Course she ain't,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;She looks like FOLKS,
+      now. She's actually almost&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keerful, now, Nancy!&rdquo; interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. &ldquo;You
+      know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look like
+      the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss Pollyanna
+      makes her wear 'round her neck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded the man. &ldquo;I told ye she wa'n't&mdash;old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it&mdash;as
+      she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+      lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hain't ye?&rdquo; asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. &ldquo;Well, I
+      guess ye won't then from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,&rdquo; wheedled the girl. &ldquo;Ye see, there ain't many
+      folks here that I CAN ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',&rdquo; grinned Old
+      Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. &ldquo;How is she, ter-day&mdash;the
+      little gal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can see&mdash;or
+      anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some, an' tries
+      ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises, or some
+      other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with achin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; it's the 'game'&mdash;bless her sweet heart!&rdquo; nodded Old Tom,
+      blinking a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She told me long ago.&rdquo; The old man hesitated, then went on, his
+      lips twitching a little. &ldquo;I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so bent up
+      and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT ter
+      be glad about!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+      SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find somethin'.
+      We've been playin' it&mdash;that game&mdash;since almost the first, 'cause
+      there wa'n't no one else she could play it with&mdash;though she did speak
+      of&mdash;her aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MISS POLLY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+      than I have,&rdquo; she bridled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom stiffened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was only thinkin' 'twould be&mdash;some of a surprise&mdash;to her,&rdquo; he
+      explained with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, I guess 'twould be&mdash;THEN,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;I ain't
+      sayin' what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now&mdash;even
+      that she'd take ter playin' it herself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But hain't the little gal told her&mdash;ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+      I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,&rdquo; said
+      Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy. &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna told
+      me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+      have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+      have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I see, I see.&rdquo; The old man nodded his head slowly. &ldquo;They was always
+      bitter against the minister chap&mdash;all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss
+      Jennie away from 'em. An' Miss Polly&mdash;young as she was&mdash;couldn't
+      never forgive him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie&mdash;in them days. I
+      see, I see. 'Twas a bad mess,&rdquo; he sighed, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, 'twas&mdash;all 'round, all 'round,&rdquo; sighed Nancy in her turn, as
+      she went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+      cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+      impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+      about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide the
+      fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna&mdash;Pollyanna
+      petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers and ate
+      the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned innumerable
+      cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that were brought
+      to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the nervous activity
+      of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the pitiful
+      motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying so
+      woefully quiet under the blankets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the game&mdash;Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was
+      going to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to
+      call on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+      realize that all this &ldquo;gladness&rdquo; was in the future, not the present.
+      Nancy, however, did realize it&mdash;and cry about it, when she was alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected, he
+      came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+      cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,&rdquo; she added engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOUR doctor?&rdquo; Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren, talking
+      with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small, brown-eyed man
+      with a pointed brown beard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+      who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+      &ldquo;You see, <i>I</i> wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+      you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about&mdash;about
+      broken legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      translate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only time can tell that, little girl,&rdquo; he said gently; then he turned a
+      grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly, if
+      Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+      unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+      hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+      open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+      Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+      &ldquo;meow&rdquo; of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply Aunt
+      Polly's agonized exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean&mdash;the child&mdash;will
+      NEVER WALK again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+      terrified &ldquo;Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Then Miss Polly, seeing the open door
+      and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan and&mdash;for
+      the first time in her life&mdash;fainted dead away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse, with a choking &ldquo;She heard!&rdquo; stumbled toward the open door. The
+      two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay&mdash;he had
+      caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was not
+      until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the door,
+      that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes, awoke
+      to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to
+      unhappy consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the bed
+      vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed little
+      girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+      please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+      pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&mdash;she can't come just this minute, dear. She will&mdash;a little
+      later. What is it? Can't I&mdash;get it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I want to know what she said&mdash;just now. Did you hear her? I want
+      Aunt Polly&mdash;she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't true&mdash;'tisn't
+      true!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent an
+      added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+      mean I can't ever&mdash;walk again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear&mdash;don't, don't!&rdquo; choked the nurse. &ldquo;Perhaps he
+      didn't know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could
+      happen, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody else
+      about&mdash;about broken legs like mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes. Just&mdash;just
+      don't think any more about it now&mdash;please don't, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. &ldquo;But I can't help thinking about it,&rdquo;
+       she sobbed. &ldquo;It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt, how am
+      I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or&mdash;or
+      anybody?&rdquo; She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+      she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss Hunt, if I
+      can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for&mdash;ANYTHING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not know &ldquo;the game;&rdquo; but she did know that her patient must
+      be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+      heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+      with the quieting powder ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear, just take this,&rdquo; she soothed; &ldquo;and by and by we'll be
+      more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half as
+      bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+      glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; that sounds like things father used to say,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna,
+      blinking off the tears. &ldquo;He said there was always something about
+      everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard he
+      couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+      that, that could be worse&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+      verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+      information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she felt
+      to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then to send
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+      extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and its
+      master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything. She
+      scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few minutes, she
+      waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, sir,&rdquo; she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+      questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. &ldquo;Miss Harrington sent
+      me to tell you about&mdash;Miss Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+      anxiety that lay behind that short &ldquo;well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; she choked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. He says&mdash;she can't walk again&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+      in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl! Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+      that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+      he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems cruel&mdash;never to dance in the sunshine again! My little
+      prism girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She herself doesn't know yet&mdash;of course&mdash;does she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she does, sir.&rdquo; sobbed Nancy, &ldquo;an' that's what makes it all the
+      harder. She found out&mdash;drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,&rdquo; apologized
+      the girl, hurriedly. &ldquo;It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+      Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out&mdash;that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo; sighed the man again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,&rdquo; choked Nancy. &ldquo;I
+      hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up both
+      times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps thinkin' all
+      the time of new things she can't do&mdash;NOW. It worries her, too, 'cause
+      she can't seem ter be glad&mdash;maybe you don't know about her game,
+      though,&rdquo; broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The 'glad game'?&rdquo; asked the man. &ldquo;Oh, yes; she told me of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks. But
+      ye see, now she&mdash;she can't play it herself, an' it worries her. She
+      says she can't think of a thing&mdash;not a thing about this not walkin'
+      again, ter be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why should she?&rdquo; retorted the man, almost savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the way I felt, too&mdash;till I happened ter think&mdash;it WOULD
+      be easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to&mdash;to
+      remind her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To remind her! Of what?&rdquo; John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+      impatient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of&mdash;of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+      know&mdash;and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb
+      just cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy
+      ter TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing
+      when you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+      says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+      folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+      really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+      nicer ter play when&mdash;when it was hard,&rdquo; resumed Nancy, in a dull
+      voice. &ldquo;But she says that, too, is diff'rent&mdash;when it really IS hard.
+      An' I must be goin', now, sir,&rdquo; she broke off abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that&mdash;that you'd seen Jimmy
+      Bean again, I s'pose, sir, could I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see how you could&mdash;as I haven't seen him,&rdquo; observed the man
+      a little shortly. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', sir, only&mdash;well, ye see, that's one of the things that she
+      was feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She
+      said she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well
+      that day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very
+      nice child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that;
+      but I didn't, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know&mdash;what she means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again, she
+      said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And now
+      she&mdash;can't&mdash;drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir.
+      Good-by!&rdquo; And Nancy fled precipitately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+      the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never walk
+      again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred. Everybody
+      knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had always a smile
+      of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the &ldquo;game&rdquo; that Pollyanna was
+      playing. To think that now never again would that smiling face be seen on
+      their streets&mdash;never again would that cheery little voice proclaim
+      the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed unbelievable,
+      impossible, cruel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+      it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+      men talked, too, and wept&mdash;though not so openly. And neither the
+      talking nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news
+      itself, came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what
+      had come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not
+      play the game; that she could not now be glad over&mdash;anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+      Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+      Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+      calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+      women, and children&mdash;many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that
+      her niece knew at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+      awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+      to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+      tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+      their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+      injured girl; and all sent to her some message&mdash;and it was these
+      messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,&rdquo; he began almost harshly. &ldquo;But
+      can&mdash;nothing be done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+      treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying them
+      out to the letter, of course. But&mdash;Dr. Mead held out almost no hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton rose abruptly&mdash;though he had but just come. His face
+      was white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+      him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+      presence. At the door he turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a message for Pollyanna,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Will you tell her, please,
+      that I have seen Jimmy Bean and&mdash;that he's going to be my boy
+      hereafter. Tell her I thought she would be&mdash;GLAD to know. I shall
+      adopt him, probably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will adopt Jimmy Bean!&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lifted his chin a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+      would be&mdash;GLAD!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;of course,&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+      looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+      believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+      Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+      supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy&mdash;and such a little boy?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has just
+      been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his little boy.
+      He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+      find a place for Jimmy&mdash;and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+      so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told her
+      aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her&mdash;and certainly she would
+      not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of leaving
+      her&mdash;this dear Aunt Polly!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The child's presence,&rdquo; stammered Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told
+      me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's presence
+      could make a&mdash;a home. And now he's got it&mdash;the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&mdash;see,&rdquo; said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see&mdash;more
+      than Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was
+      probably brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton
+      was asking HER to be the &ldquo;child's presence,&rdquo; which was to transform his
+      great pile of gray stone into a home. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she finished, her eyes
+      stinging with sudden tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing questions,
+      hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton house and its
+      master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton says so, too&mdash;that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or
+      a child's presence, to make a home, you know,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DR. CHILTON! How do you know&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know&mdash;not
+      a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I asked him why he didn't get 'em&mdash;a woman's hand and heart, and
+      have a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+      color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I did. He looked so&mdash;so sorrowful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he&mdash;say?&rdquo; Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of
+      some force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+      couldn't always get 'em for the asking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+      window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said that
+      low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world if he did
+      have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter?&rdquo; Aunt
+      Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,&rdquo; said Aunt
+      Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow called
+      one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+      homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I came to inquire for the little girl,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?&rdquo; rejoined
+      Miss Polly, wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I came to tell you&mdash;that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+      Pollyanna,&rdquo; hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. &ldquo;We think
+      it's&mdash;so awful&mdash;so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+      ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too&mdash;for mother,
+      you know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard
+      how now she couldn't play it herself&mdash;poor little dear! I'm sure I
+      don't see how she CAN, either, in her condition!&mdash;but when we
+      remembered all the things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only
+      know what she HAD done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own
+      case, about the game, because she could be glad&mdash;that is, a little
+      glad&mdash;&rdquo; Milly stopped helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss
+      Polly to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+      her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+      was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was &ldquo;queer,&rdquo;
+       but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+      she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words. When
+      the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want me
+      to tell my niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,&rdquo; answered the girl, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+      because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I want
+      her to know HOW different she is&mdash;and me, too. I'm different. I've
+      been trying to play it&mdash;the game&mdash;a little.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this &ldquo;game,&rdquo;
+       but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with nervous
+      volubility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know nothing was ever right before&mdash;for mother. She was always
+      wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+      much&mdash;under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades
+      up, and she takes interest in things&mdash;how she looks, and her
+      nightdress, and all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things&mdash;reins
+      and baby blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so
+      GLAD to think she can do it!&mdash;and that was all Miss Pollyanna's
+      doings, you know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her
+      hands and arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she
+      didn't DO something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do
+      something&mdash;to knit, you know. And you can't think what a different
+      room it is now, what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the
+      prisms in the window that SHE gave her&mdash;why, it actually makes you
+      feel BETTER just to go in there now; and before I used to dread it
+      awfully, it was so dark and gloomy, and mother was so&mdash;so unhappy,
+      you know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand it's
+      all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that we
+      thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that she
+      knew us. And&mdash;and that's all,&rdquo; sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+      feet. &ldquo;You'll tell her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+      remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of many;
+      and always there were the messages&mdash;the messages which were in some
+      ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle over
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+      though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew her
+      as the saddest little woman in town&mdash;one who was always in black.
+      To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+      though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror at
+      the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later&mdash;perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+      almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her&mdash;a message,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell her, please, that&mdash;that I've put on THIS,&rdquo; she said,
+      just touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's
+      ill-concealed look of surprise, she added: &ldquo;The little girl has been
+      trying for so long to make me wear&mdash;some color, that I thought she'd
+      be&mdash;glad to know I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to
+      see it, if I would. You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Benton shook her head and turned away. &ldquo;If you'll just tell Pollyanna&mdash;SHE'LL
+      understand.&rdquo; And the door closed after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, that same day, there was the other widow&mdash;at least,
+      she wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She
+      wondered vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her
+      name as &ldquo;Mrs. Tarbell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a stranger to you, of course,&rdquo; she began at once. &ldquo;But I'm not a
+      stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+      summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was on
+      these walks that I've met your niece&mdash;she's such a dear little girl!
+      I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very sad
+      when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me of&mdash;my
+      own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear of the
+      accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never walk
+      again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any longer&mdash;the
+      dear child!&mdash;I just had to come to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is you who are to be kind,&rdquo; demurred the other. &ldquo;I&mdash;I want
+      you to give her a message from me. Will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I know
+      it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But&mdash;if you'll pardon me I'd
+      rather not explain.&rdquo; Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the smile
+      left her eyes. &ldquo;Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt that I
+      must tell&mdash;her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+      rudeness in my call,&rdquo; she begged, as she took her leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's at
+      the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean&mdash;we used to.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you&mdash;but
+      she wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+      is glad now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she say that&mdash;really? Oh, I'm so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's the game, and&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to
+      her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is&mdash;I can't tell it unless I tell
+      other things that&mdash;that I'm not to speak of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+      obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+      were uttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the shape
+      of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks and
+      abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+      jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation&mdash;but
+      whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+      homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been crying.
+      Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the little girl,
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in the
+      woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one was
+      allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was still
+      at a slightly defiant tilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Mrs. Payson&mdash;Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+      me&mdash;most of the good people in the town have&mdash;and maybe some of
+      the things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+      little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and&mdash;and it broke me
+      all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and&mdash;and
+      I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd do
+      more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred years.
+      But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can make the
+      best use of 'em, I notice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+      still husky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl of
+      yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by often&mdash;only
+      she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the kids and talked
+      to me&mdash;and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like it, and to
+      like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks don't
+      generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss Harrington,
+      there wouldn't be so many&mdash;of my kind,&rdquo; she added, with sudden
+      bitterness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+      did do us good&mdash;a lot o' good. How much she won't know&mdash;nor
+      can't know, I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things&mdash;that
+      I don't want her to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more ways
+      than one. We've been blue and discouraged&mdash;my man and me, and ready
+      for&mdash;'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+      and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the kids.
+      Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's never
+      walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and sit on our
+      doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and&mdash;and just be glad.
+      She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she told us
+      why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+      her, because she can't play it no more&mdash;that there's nothing to be
+      glad about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day&mdash;that maybe she
+      can be a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other,
+      and play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+      feel kind of bad&mdash;at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+      going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+      Anyhow, we're going to try&mdash;'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I will tell her,&rdquo; promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then, with
+      sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. &ldquo;And thank you
+      for coming, Mrs. Payson,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+      incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+      outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was confronting
+      Nancy in the kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits of
+      the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary experience
+      of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping point. Not since
+      Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress speak so sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+      seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with it?
+      WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to her
+      that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town are
+      putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to like
+      something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I tried
+      to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make much headway,
+      and of course I don't like to worry her&mdash;now. But from something I
+      heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one of them, too.
+      Now WILL you tell me what it all means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+      makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin' ter
+      make her a little glad, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad of what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just glad! That's the game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+      the eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her ter
+      play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when she was
+      wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would. It seems
+      'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin' but what
+      there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an' that she
+      could be glad about them crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad for&mdash;CRUTCHES!&rdquo; Miss Polly choked back a sob&mdash;she was
+      thinking of the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she said,
+      too. But he told her she COULD be glad&mdash;'cause she DIDN'T NEED 'EM.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; cried Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And after that she said he made a regular game of it&mdash;findin'
+      somethin' in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it,
+      too, and that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause
+      ye was so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest
+      bein' glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, how&mdash;how&mdash;&rdquo; Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,&rdquo;
+       maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. &ldquo;I wish
+      I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out home.
+      She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me glad, too,
+      on such a lot o' things&mdash;little things, an' big things; an' it's made
+      'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for a name half as
+      much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't 'Hephzibah.' An' there's
+      Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so. She's actually made me glad
+      for Monday mornin's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad&mdash;for Monday mornings!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed lamb
+      found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does she up
+      an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should think you
+      could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in the week,
+      because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another one!' An' I'm
+      blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin' since&mdash;an' it
+      HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I thought of it;
+      an' laughin' helps, ye know&mdash;it does, it does!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why hasn't&mdash;she told me&mdash;the game?&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+      &ldquo;Why has she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of&mdash;her
+      father; so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She wanted ter tell ye, first off,&rdquo; continued Nancy, a little unsteadily.
+      &ldquo;She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I begun it, so
+      she could have some one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;and&mdash;these others?&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think they
+      did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she told a
+      lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they gets
+      started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry one, an' so&mdash;so
+      jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't help knowin' it,
+      anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so bad&mdash;specially when
+      they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find anythin' ter be glad
+      about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter tell her how glad she's
+      made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see, she's always wanted ev'rybody
+      ter play the game with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know somebody who'll play it&mdash;now,&rdquo; choked Miss Polly, as
+      she turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll believe anythin'&mdash;anythin' now,&rdquo; she muttered to herself.
+      &ldquo;Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now&mdash;o' Miss
+      Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+      Pollyanna alone together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,&rdquo; announced Miss
+      Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. &ldquo;Do you remember Mrs.
+      Payson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr. Pendleton's,
+      and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three years old, and a boy
+      'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her husband&mdash;only they don't
+      seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes they fight&mdash;I mean,
+      they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say, and of course they
+      don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary minister, you know,
+      like&mdash;well, he isn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated suddenly
+      in those of her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being so
+      poor,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. &ldquo;And she's got perfectly
+      beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+      says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+      and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+      isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+      And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+      that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+      should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+      more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they aren't going 'way off, dear,&rdquo; evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+      &ldquo;They're going to stay right there together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see&mdash;O dear!&rdquo;
+       broke off the little girl, miserably. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+      that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+      Mr. Pendleton again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, don't,&rdquo; choked her aunt. &ldquo;Perhaps you'll drive up sometime.
+      But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson said. She wanted
+      me to tell you that they&mdash;they were going to stay together and to
+      play the game, just as you wanted them to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make you&mdash;GLAD,
+      Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you spoke just as if you knew&mdash;DO you
+      know about the game, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear.&rdquo; Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+      matter-of-fact. &ldquo;Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+      to play it now&mdash;with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly&mdash;YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you
+      most of anybody, all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+      time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+      all the town is playing that game now with you&mdash;even to the minister!
+      I haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+      when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just as
+      soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+      stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told
+      him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it. The whole
+      town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happier&mdash;and
+      all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game, and how
+      to play it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light illumined
+      her face. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be glad about, after
+      all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway&mdash;else I couldn't have
+      done&mdash;that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One by one the short winter days came and went&mdash;but they were not
+      short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+      resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+      toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+      that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+      to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story one day
+      about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a blown-down
+      door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did that didn't have
+      any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the other story that she
+      had heard about the poor old lady who had only two teeth, but who was so
+      glad that those two teeth &ldquo;hit&rdquo;!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of bright
+      colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the white
+      spread, and made Pollyanna&mdash;again like Mrs. Snow&mdash;so glad she
+      had her hands and arms, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+      messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+      something new to think about&mdash;and Pollyanna needed new things to
+      think about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean. John
+      Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and how
+      well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had, and
+      what bang-up &ldquo;folks&rdquo; Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it was all
+      owing to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over Pollyanna's
+      condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed treatment.
+      There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's worst fears
+      would be realized&mdash;that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+      of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into a
+      fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way to
+      procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however, and the
+      news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides anxiety
+      began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged determination,
+      each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged determination won;
+      and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise,
+      received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton,&rdquo; began the doctor, abruptly, &ldquo;I've come to you because you,
+      better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with Miss
+      Polly Harrington.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly&mdash;he
+      did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+      Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+      years, or more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+      sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+      need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+      errand to notice how that errand was received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+      MUST make an examination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;can't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+      for more than fifteen years. You don't know&mdash;but I will tell you&mdash;that
+      the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+      enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+      would be as before&mdash;which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see
+      her summoning me now&mdash;but I don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But couldn't you go&mdash;without a summons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hardly. <i>I</i> have some pride, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you're so anxious&mdash;couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+      the quarrel&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forget the quarrel!&rdquo; interrupted the doctor, savagely. &ldquo;I'm not talking
+      of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here there
+      on my knees&mdash;or on my head&mdash;if that would do any good. It's
+      PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+      doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chilton, what was the quarrel?&rdquo; demanded Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?&rdquo; he snarled,
+      pacing the room angrily. &ldquo;A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or the
+      depth of a river, maybe&mdash;it might as well be, so far as its having
+      any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+      Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+      there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+      or death. It will mean&mdash;I honestly believe&mdash;nine chances out of
+      ten that Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just as
+      the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+      Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached the
+      ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+      green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk! Pollyanna!&rdquo; John Pendleton was saying. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean that from what I can hear and learn&mdash;a mile from her bedside&mdash;that
+      her case is very much like one that a college friend of mine has just
+      helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a special study.
+      I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way. And from what I
+      hear&mdash;but I want to SEE the girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must see her, man! Couldn't you&mdash;say, through Dr. Warren?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me himself
+      that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but&mdash;Miss
+      Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+      even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+      best patients have come over to me&mdash;so of course that ties my hands
+      still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child! Think
+      of what it may mean to her&mdash;if I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and think of what it will mean&mdash;if you don't!&rdquo; retorted
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how can I&mdash;without a direct request from her aunt?&mdash;which
+      I'll never get!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must be made to ask you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I guess you don't&mdash;nor anybody else. She's too proud and too
+      angry to ask me&mdash;after what she said years ago it would mean if she
+      did ask me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and
+      when I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+      confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+      pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again, angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if she could be made to see&mdash;to understand,&rdquo; urged John
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and who's going to do it?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, with a savage turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; groaned the other, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had scarcely
+      breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, by Jinks, I know!&rdquo; he whispered, exultingly. &ldquo;I'M a-goin' ter do
+      it!&rdquo; And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the corner
+      of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,&rdquo; announced Nancy in the
+      doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. &ldquo;Are you sure he did not
+      mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, I'll come down.&rdquo; And Miss Polly arose from her chair a little
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed, flushed-faced
+      boy, who began to speak at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful&mdash;what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+      but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+      her, or face you, or&mdash;or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think
+      you would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+      An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+      et&mdash;et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew
+      you WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wh-at?&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+      changing to one of angry indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+      about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I understand
+      each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as you did before&mdash;and
+      mix everything all up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+      talked in the library. Do you understand that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Jimmy.&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it; an'
+      I heard 'em talk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',&rdquo; bridled Jimmy. &ldquo;And I'm
+      glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make Pollyanna&mdash;walk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what do you mean?&rdquo; Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded Jimmy, contentedly. &ldquo;Well, Dr. Chilton knows
+      some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks&mdash;make her
+      walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+      see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Jimmy, I&mdash;I can't&mdash;I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!&rdquo;
+       Miss Polly was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,&rdquo; asserted
+      Jimmy, eagerly. &ldquo;They said that for some reason&mdash;I didn't rightly
+      catch what&mdash;you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr.
+      Warren so; an' Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him,
+      on account of pride an' professional et&mdash;et&mdash;well, et-somethin
+      anyway. An' they was wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they
+      didn't know who could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself
+      right away, 'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come&mdash;an' have I made ye
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,&rdquo; implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an' he's
+      just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow, they didn't
+      seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they was worryin'
+      about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An' say&mdash;you will
+      let him come, won't you?&mdash;now you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming in
+      little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes, thought
+      she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she said
+      brokenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I'll let&mdash;Dr. Chilton&mdash;see her. Now run home, Jimmy&mdash;quick!
+      I've got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a
+      few minutes ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated, flushed-faced
+      Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to hear the lady say,
+      a little breathlessly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+      consultation, and&mdash;I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+      much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+      once&mdash;please? Thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay watching
+      the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall, broad-shouldered man
+      followed close behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton!&mdash;oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!&rdquo; cried
+      Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+      eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. &ldquo;But, of course, if Aunt
+      Polly doesn't want&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all right, my dear; don't worry,&rdquo; soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+      hurrying forward. &ldquo;I have told Dr. Chilton that&mdash;that I want him to
+      look you over&mdash;with Dr. Warren, this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then you asked him to come,&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear, I asked him. That is&mdash;&rdquo; But it was too late. The adoring
+      happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and Miss
+      Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the room
+      hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+      Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever did
+      has been done to-day,&rdquo; he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+      crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+      to themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you&mdash;the very first one of all.
+      Some day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your&mdash;uncle. And
+      it's you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so&mdash;happy! And so&mdash;glad!&mdash;darling!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small palms
+      together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted so
+      long ago? You were&mdash;I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+      saying I'd done the gladdest job of all&mdash;to-day. I'm so glad! Why,
+      Aunt Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind&mdash;even my
+      legs, now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps, some day, dear&mdash;&rdquo; But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+      did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+      her heart. But she did say this&mdash;and surely this was quite wonderful
+      enough&mdash;to Pollyanna's mind:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+      comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages to
+      a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on purpose
+      for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr. Chilton's, and
+      we're going to see what he can do for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:&mdash;Oh, I can&mdash;I can&mdash;I CAN
+      walk! I did to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six
+      steps. My, how good it was to be on legs again!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood beside
+      of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week first,
+      peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next month,
+      was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and clapped
+      her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through the
+      piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying too much
+      to call me anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see why they cried. <i>I</i> wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+      Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! just think, I can walk&mdash;walk&mdash;WALK! Now I
+      don't mind being here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding,
+      anyhow. Wasn't that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get
+      married right beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of
+      the gladdest things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+      there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any more. It
+      will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for everything.
+      Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never, never know
+      how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them&mdash;that go, I
+      mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With heaps of love to everybody,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;POLLYANNA.&rdquo; <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+    
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1450 ***</div>
+  </body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Pollyanna
+
+Author: Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Posting Date: August 27, 2008 [EBook #1450]
+Release Date: September, 1998
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller for Tina
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Author of "Miss Billy," "Miss Billy's Decision," "Cross Currents," "The
+Turn of the Tides," etc.
+
+
+
+
+               TO
+               My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER
+     I.     MISS POLLY
+     II.    OLD TOM AND NANCY
+     III.   THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+     IV.    THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+     V.     THE GAME
+     VI.    A QUESTION OF DUTY
+     VII.   POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+     VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+     IX.    WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+     X.     A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+     XI.    INTRODUCING JIMMY
+     XII.   BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+     XIII.  IN PENDLETON WOODS
+     XIV.   JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+     XV.    DR. CHILTON
+     XVI.   A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+     XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+     XVIII. PRISMS
+     XIX.   WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+     XX.    WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+     XXI.   A QUESTION ANSWERED
+     XXII.  SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+     XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+     XXIV.  JOHN PENDLETON
+     XXV.   A WAITING GAME
+     XXVI.  A DOOR AJAR
+     XXVII. TWO VISITS
+     XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+     XXIX.  THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+     XXX.   JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+     XXXI.  A NEW UNCLE
+     XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she
+specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was
+hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew
+that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+the pitcher in her hand.
+
+"Nancy,"--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--"when I'm talking to
+you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say."
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the
+cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not add
+to her composure.
+
+"Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am," she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. "I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you
+specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know."
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+"That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+attention."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+she could please this woman. Nancy had never "worked out" before; but
+a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children
+besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward
+their support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in
+the kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from "The
+Corners," six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as
+the mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest
+residents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly
+now as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to
+the floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even when
+knives and doors were still.
+
+"When you've finished your morning work, Nancy," Miss Polly was saying
+now, "you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+after you clear out the trunks and boxes."
+
+"Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?"
+
+"In the front attic." Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: "I suppose I
+may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is
+coming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that
+room."
+
+"A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!"
+cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in the
+home at "The Corners."
+
+"Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use," rejoined Miss
+Polly, stiffly. "However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I
+am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty."
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+"Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you," she faltered.
+
+"Thank you," rejoined the lady, dryly. "I can't say, however, that I see
+any immediate need for that."
+
+"But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child," ventured
+Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+"Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that
+was already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly
+WANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope
+I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy," she finished
+sharply, as she left the room.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now so
+cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+
+"Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,
+he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre
+salary.
+
+"I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child
+and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to
+you.
+
+"The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+"Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+
+"Respectfully yours,
+
+"Jeremiah O. White."
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would
+take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for
+that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time
+when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man
+of wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him to
+the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had married
+the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had
+had little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie
+herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby "Pollyanna"
+for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. This
+had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there
+had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little
+note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of
+the house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were people
+who had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have
+some friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed
+either their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She
+liked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,
+of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew
+her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.
+But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than
+it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+"I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!" she
+muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+pointed cleaning-stick. "There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
+house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!"
+snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
+strain; "I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
+just now!"
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+"Well, it's done--my part, anyhow," she sighed. "There ain't no dirt
+here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
+this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!" she finished, going
+out and closing the door with a bang, "Oh!" she ejaculated, biting
+her lip. Then, doggedly: "Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
+bang,--I do, I do!"
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
+about the place for uncounted years.
+
+"Mr. Tom," began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
+make sure she was unobserved; "did you know a little girl was comin'
+here ter live with Miss Polly?"
+
+"A--what?" demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+"A little girl--to live with Miss Polly."
+
+"Go on with yer jokin'," scoffed unbelieving Tom. "Why don't ye tell me
+the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?"
+
+"But it's true. She told me so herself," maintained Nancy. "It's her
+niece; and she's eleven years old."
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+"Sho!--I wonder, now," he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+faded eyes. "It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
+wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+a-seein' this!"
+
+"Who was Miss Jennie?"
+
+"She was an angel straight out of Heaven," breathed the man, fervently;
+"but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
+was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
+babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one
+what's a-comin'."
+
+"She's eleven years old."
+
+"Yes, she might be," nodded the old man.
+
+"And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!" scolded
+Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind
+her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+"I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house," he
+said.
+
+"Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in
+the house!" snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+"I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly," he grinned.
+
+"As if ever anybody could be fond of her!" scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+"I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair," he said
+slowly.
+
+"Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither."
+
+"Oh, yes they did," nodded the old man. "And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should." The old man drew
+himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was
+the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved
+for long years.
+
+"But it don't seem possible--her and a lover," still maintained Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"You didn't know Miss Polly as I did," he argued. "She used ter be real
+handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be."
+
+"Handsome! Miss Polly!"
+
+"Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with
+posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things--you'd
+see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy."
+
+"Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of
+it--she has, she has!" sniffed Nancy.
+
+"Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her lover,"
+nodded Old Tom; "and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood an'
+thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal with."
+
+"I should say she was," declared Nancy, indignantly. "There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't
+for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some
+day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be
+good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will."
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child; 'tain't
+best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best." And again he bent his old head
+to the work before him.
+
+"Nancy!" called a sharp voice.
+
+"Y-yes, ma'am," stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs,
+a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were
+no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All
+day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room
+was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not
+been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+down, up and down, trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+the room.
+
+"Nancy," she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, "I found a
+fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised
+at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall
+expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive
+to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station.
+Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says
+'light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I
+know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose."
+
+"Yes, ma'am; but--you--"
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+crisply:
+
+"No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+all." And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of
+her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+"'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she knows,
+indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would--and
+her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!"
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
+Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
+friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
+usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
+station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it "light hair, red-checked
+dress, straw hat." Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
+of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+"I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+bang doors," she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+
+"Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,"
+grinned Timothy. "Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+the whistle now!"
+
+"Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me," chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
+she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
+red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
+the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
+her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
+standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+
+"Are you Miss--Pollyanna?" she faltered. The next moment she found
+herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you," cried an eager voice in her
+ear. "Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
+hoped you would."
+
+"You--you did?" stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
+possibly have known her--and wanted her. "You--you did?" she repeated,
+trying to straighten her hat.
+
+"Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
+like," cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
+embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. "And now I know, and
+I'm glad you look just like you do look."
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+had been most confusing.
+
+"This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk," she stammered.
+
+"Yes, I have," nodded Pollyanna, importantly. "I've got a brand-new one.
+The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet
+a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as half an
+aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
+get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here
+'tis," she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had
+to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
+Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During
+the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+
+"There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride,"
+sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. "Of course, if 'tisn't
+far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the
+sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty;
+father told me--"
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+lifting of her head.
+
+"Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
+explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red gingham
+dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think 'twas
+queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn, you know--on
+both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to
+buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought
+to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+course, but not the black part."
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+"Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right."
+
+"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too," nodded Pollyanna, again with
+that choking little breath. "Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
+harder to be glad in black--"
+
+"Glad!" gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+"Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us,
+you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to--to do
+it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him, so; and I couldn't
+help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have
+God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the Ladies' Aid.
+But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm
+so glad I've got you!"
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her
+turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+"Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear," she faltered. "I'm
+only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!"
+
+"You--you AREN'T?" stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+"No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We--we
+ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!"
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+flash from his eyes.
+
+"But who ARE you?" questioned Pollyanna. "You don't look a bit like a
+Ladies' Aider!"
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+"I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an'
+hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that."
+
+"But there IS an Aunt Polly?" demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+"You bet your life there is," cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then." There was a moment's silence, then she
+went on brightly: "And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't
+come to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+besides."
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+"I call that a pretty slick compliment," he said. "Why don't you thank
+the little lady?"
+
+"I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly," faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+"I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me.
+He said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill."
+
+"She does. You can see it now," said Nancy.
+
+"It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead."
+
+"Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+Polly rich, Nancy?"
+
+"Yes, Miss."
+
+"I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some rich. They
+have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+ice-cream Sundays?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+Timothy's eyes.
+
+"No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never
+saw it on her table."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's
+did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got
+the carpets, though."
+
+"Yes, she's got the carpets."
+
+"In every room?"
+
+"Well, in almost every room," answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," exulted Pollyanna. "I love carpets. We didn't have
+any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one
+of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly
+beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some
+lambs and a lion--not together, you know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is,
+I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?"
+
+"I--I don't know," answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+"I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father
+sold it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad
+it fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you
+know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used
+to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?" she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+"Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!"
+
+"Leave! I should say not," grinned the youth.
+
+"You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!"
+
+"Fun!--fun!" repeated Nancy, indignantly, "I guess it'll be somethin'
+more than fun for that blessed child--when them two tries ter live
+tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!" she
+vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up
+from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with "duty" written large
+on every coldly extended finger.
+
+"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that
+you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You don't know how
+perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've
+had just the Ladies' Aid!"
+
+"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the
+small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the
+doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough,
+please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you
+look like."
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows.
+I told Nancy how father said--"
+
+"Yes; well, never mind now what your father said," interrupted Miss
+Polly, crisply. "You had a trunk, I presume?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own, I
+mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them
+lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she
+thought I ought to have those. You see, father--"
+
+"Pollyanna," interrupted her aunt again, sharply, "there is one thing
+that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I
+do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me."
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--" She hesitated, and her aunt filled
+the pause.
+
+"We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may follow
+me, Pollyanna."
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+
+"After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+father," Pollyanna was thinking. "It'll be easier, maybe--if I don't
+talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+about him." And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's "kindness,"
+blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of
+picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace
+curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly," breathed the little girl, rapturously;
+"what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be
+you're so rich!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached
+the head of the stairs. "I'm surprised at you--making a speech like that
+to me!"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?" queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+
+"Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,"
+declared the lady; "certainly not, of RICHES!"
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway
+door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room.
+Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from
+herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness
+would not destroy valuable furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of
+vanity showing thus early--it was all the more fortunate that the room
+planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that
+no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+was waiting now her room--the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her
+aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At
+the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners
+where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were
+stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too.
+Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it seemed so hard to
+breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+
+"There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see.
+Have you your key?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+"When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+not merely with your head."
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you
+need here," she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+pitcher. "I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+o'clock," she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking
+after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare
+floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that
+had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away
+Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on
+her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+"There, there, you poor lamb," she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+drawing the little girl into her arms. "I was just a-fearin! I'd find
+you like this, like this."
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked," she sobbed. "I just can't
+make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+than I did."
+
+"No more they did, neither," declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+"Oh-h!--NANCY!" The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+"There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course," she cried briskly.
+"Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+your dresses in no time, no time."
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+"There aren't very many there, anyway," she faltered.
+
+"Then they're all the sooner unpacked," declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+"That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?" she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+"Why, of--course," she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses.
+Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in
+the closet, stacking the books on the table, and putting away the
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?"
+she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in
+the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully
+at the bare wall above.
+
+"And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles."
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her
+hands joyously.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before," she breathed. "Look--'way off
+there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody
+need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me
+have this room!"
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+"Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?" she cried; then, fearfully: "This
+wasn't--YOUR room, was it?"
+
+"My room!" stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. "If you ain't
+a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt
+before--Oh, land! there's her bell!" After which amazing speech, Nancy
+sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the
+stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her "picture," as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her
+eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about
+the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed.
+Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery--against this window a
+huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms
+outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+"I believe I can do it," she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+ground was--even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little
+fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her
+strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a
+bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an
+open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree
+stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there
+seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in--the top of that
+big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things,
+and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran through the open
+field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the
+bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+
+"Nancy," she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+appeared; "my niece is late. No, you need not call her," she added
+severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. "I told her what
+time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She
+may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down
+she may have bread and milk in the kitchen."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+"Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just cried
+herself to sleep," she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open
+the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. "Where are you?
+Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?" she panted, looking in the
+closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone," she wailed. "She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me
+told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel
+food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!"
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+"Gone? Heaven?" he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. "Well, Nancy, it do look like as
+if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,"
+he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined
+against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on
+top of a huge rock.
+
+"Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my
+say," declared Nancy, doggedly. "If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll," she flung back over her
+shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+"For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,"
+panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+regretfully slid.
+
+"Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they
+found I always came back all right."
+
+"But I didn't even know you'd went," cried Nancy, tucking the little
+girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. "I didn't see
+you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+do, I do."
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+"I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree."
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+"You did--what?"
+
+"Came down the tree, outside my window."
+
+"My stars and stockings!" gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. "I'd like ter
+know what yer aunt would say ter that!"
+
+"Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out," promised
+the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+"Mercy!" gasped Nancy. "No--no!"
+
+"Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!" cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+
+"No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about
+knowin' what she'd say, truly," stammered Nancy, determined to keep one
+scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. "But, say, we better hurry.
+I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know."
+
+"I'll help," promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna!" demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna
+took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+"I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause
+then you came after me," she shivered.
+
+"Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll
+have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't
+like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know."
+
+"But I couldn't. I was up here."
+
+"Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!" observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. "I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am."
+
+"Oh, I'm not. I'm glad."
+
+"Glad! Why?"
+
+"Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see
+any trouble about being glad about that."
+
+"You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',"
+retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's
+brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"Well, that's the game, you know, anyway."
+
+"The--GAME?"
+
+"Yes; the 'just being glad' game."
+
+"Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?"
+
+"Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely," rejoined
+Pollyanna. "We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it--some of them."
+
+"What is it? I ain't much on games, though."
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+"Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel."
+
+"CRUTCHES!"
+
+"Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but
+when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in,
+but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in
+handy for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it."
+
+"Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that," declared
+Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+"Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be
+glad about--no matter what 'twas," rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. "And
+we began right then--on the crutches."
+
+"Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about--gettin' a
+pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There is--there is," she crowed. "But _I_ couldn't see it, either,
+Nancy, at first," she added, with quick honesty. "Father had to tell it
+to me."
+
+"Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME," almost snapped Nancy.
+
+"Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!" exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. "You see it's just as easy--when you know how!"
+
+"Well, of all the queer doin's!" breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna
+with almost fearful eyes.
+
+"Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely," maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. "And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's almost too
+hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't anybody but
+a Ladies' Aid left."
+
+"Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+house with nothin' in it," growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"That was a hard one, at first," she admitted, "specially when I was so
+kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and
+I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I
+hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely
+picture out the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be
+glad about. You see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort
+of forget the other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know."
+
+"Humph!" choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+"Most generally it doesn't take so long," sighed Pollyanna; "and lots of
+times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it
+so much," she faltered. "I suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder
+now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+play it, though," she added, as an after-thought.
+
+"My stars and stockings!--HER!" breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then,
+aloud, she said doggedly: "See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin' that
+I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway; but
+I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I just will, I will!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. "That'll be
+splendid! Won't we have fun?"
+
+"Er--maybe," conceded Nancy, in open doubt. "But you mustn't count too
+much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin' ter
+make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+ter play it with, anyhow," she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+"Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you
+into the kitchen to eat bread and milk."
+
+"But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit."
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+"Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day,
+and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see
+what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be
+careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See
+that you are down to that. Good-night."
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+"I've had such a beautiful time, so far," she sighed happily. "I know
+I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before
+I came. Good-night," she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+
+"Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. "What a most
+extraordinary child!" Then she frowned. "She's 'glad' I punished her,
+and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with
+me! Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her
+book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed
+into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+"I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit
+now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be
+glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
+If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it
+would be easier!"
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work,
+jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+
+"If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches
+when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o'
+refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after
+her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not
+see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and
+she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt
+was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she
+made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+alive!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect
+as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her
+neck. "Is this the usual way you say good morning?"
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+
+"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from
+my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies'
+Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just
+had to come down and hug you!"
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then she turned
+and walked rapidly away.
+
+"Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?" asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as
+if with tears.
+
+"Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener," he answered. Timidly, but as if
+impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+it rest for a moment on her bright hair. "You are so like your mother,
+little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+You see, I used ter work in the garden--then."
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+"You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a little
+earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!" And
+down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's
+side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+the back door.
+
+"Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's," she panted,
+pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+"and other times it means other meals. But it always means that
+you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye
+don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter
+be glad about in that!" she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house
+as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss
+Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies
+darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+"Nancy, where did those flies come from?"
+
+"I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen." Nancy had been
+too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+
+"I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly," observed Pollyanna,
+amiably. "There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+upstairs."
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+"Yours!" gasped Miss Polly. "What do you mean? Where did they come
+from?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+windows. I SAW some of them come in."
+
+"You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?"
+
+"Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly."
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was
+grave, but very red.
+
+"Nancy," directed her mistress, sharply, "you may set the muffins down
+and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the
+doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every
+room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search."
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+"Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+forgotten YOUR duty."
+
+"My--duty?" Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+"Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I
+will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read."
+
+"To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!"
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+
+"Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly," she
+apologized timidly. "I won't raise the windows again."
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out
+a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+
+"This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+things."
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+magnified, cried joyously:
+
+"Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!" The next moment she skipped merrily from
+the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up
+the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why,
+I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet,
+and--"
+
+"That will do," observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. "Pollyanna, you may
+bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course."
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned
+toward the closet.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did--and
+THEY said they were shameful," she sighed. "But there were mostly things
+for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and--did you
+ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?"
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at
+once.
+
+"Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!" she hurried on, with a
+hot blush. "I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in this room, you
+know."
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+hurrying on.
+
+"Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're going
+to--even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every time, too,
+that were hardest to play the game on, for father and--"
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+"They aren't nice, at all," she choked, "and they'd been black if it
+hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've
+got."
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I've got the best ones on," confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. "The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to
+clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they
+won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says;
+but he's got money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the
+carpet--on account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad
+that if he did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?"
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+
+"You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home some,
+too."
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr.
+Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
+Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each
+day."
+
+"I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to
+read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+glad, either, for I like best to read to myself--on account of the big
+words, you know."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. "Have you studied
+music?"
+
+"Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+Polly. I'd rather, truly."
+
+"Very likely," observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+"Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Pollyanna sighed. "The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I
+had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle
+like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought
+backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other
+way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever,
+at all."
+
+"Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+presume."
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+"They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't
+got far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
+They were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made
+it alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to
+take turns at me one forenoon a week--in their own kitchens, you know.
+I'd only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had
+to stop." Her voice broke.
+
+"Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!" scorned Miss Polly. "I think
+we can remedy that very soon." She paused in thought for a minute, then
+went on slowly: "At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you
+will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I
+shall, of course, procure a teacher at once for you," she finished
+decisively, as she arose from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all
+just to--to live."
+
+"To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the
+time!"
+
+"Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing the things you want
+to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing hills,
+talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all about
+the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+"Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if
+I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and
+instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that
+care and instruction are not ungratefully wasted."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I LOVE
+YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!"
+
+"Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful," vouchsafed Miss
+Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+after her:
+
+"Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted
+to--to give away."
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town
+at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my
+niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you
+if I should let you appear out in any one of them."
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please," she called wistfully, "isn't there ANY way you can
+be glad about all that--duty business?"
+
+"What?" Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with
+very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. "Don't be
+impertinent, Pollyanna!"
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+of duty.
+
+"I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that," she
+sighed. "I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be
+glad about in all that duty business."
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
+on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
+began to put away the dresses.
+
+"There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see," she said
+aloud; "unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!" Whereupon she
+laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
+from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
+the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
+last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
+a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
+it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
+keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
+herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
+she expressed it to one of the clerks: "When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
+lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
+that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!"
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
+a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
+very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
+miles away at "The Corners," where lived her own dear mother, and her
+equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
+Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+
+"And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names," sighed
+Nancy. "They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
+hate 'Nancy'!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?"
+
+"Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
+in 'em, then."
+
+"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.
+
+"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,"
+retorted Nancy, "and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+name's just grand!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow," she chuckled, "you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'"
+
+"Hephzibah!"
+
+"Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just
+as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+like to be hurrahed at."
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+"Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never
+hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My,
+I guess I AM glad--" She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the
+little girl. "Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that
+'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+"Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the
+times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots
+of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about,
+you know. And most generally there is something about everything that
+you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it."
+
+"Well, m-maybe," granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet
+come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes
+Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise
+them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew
+out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way
+across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung
+a path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window.
+With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to
+the left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+silvery path, and on to the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to
+hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
+her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
+of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
+a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
+they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
+fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
+fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
+thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
+so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
+in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
+stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
+after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
+roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
+rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
+end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
+her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
+fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
+up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+"I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come," she murmured, blinking
+up at the stars; "else I couldn't have had this!"
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
+to Timothy:
+
+"Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis
+or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the
+east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here--but
+hurry, quick!"
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by
+a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes
+to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting
+through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean?" cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+"Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!" she stammered. "Don't look so scared! It
+isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so
+the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in."
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were gone; then she said
+sternly:
+
+"Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all
+the extraordinary children!" she ejaculated a little later, as, with
+Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into
+the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath
+of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long
+quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+"For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with
+me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my
+duty to keep you where I know where you are."
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+"With you?--in your bed?" she cried rapturously. "Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt
+Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+didn't come! Wouldn't you be?"
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to
+tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna--and for the
+third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had
+at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied
+cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these
+things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time,
+also, to "just live," as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she
+liked--provided she did not "like" to do certain things already
+prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to
+the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a relief to Aunt
+Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate "What an extraordinary
+child!" and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far
+away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's
+age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+"Oh, no, I don't mind it at all," she explained to Nancy. "I'm happy
+just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the
+people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?"
+
+"Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em," retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for "an errand
+to run," so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or
+another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To
+herself Pollyanna always called him "the Man," no matter if she met a
+dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two things
+that the "just men" never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather
+pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked
+erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna
+vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day
+spoke to him.
+
+"How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?" she called cheerily, as she
+approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+
+"Did you speak--to me?" he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?"
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+"'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice," she called
+out cheerfully.
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+the man stopped abruptly.
+
+"See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every
+day?"
+
+"I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your name yet."
+
+"Well, of all the--" The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on
+faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+smiling lips.
+
+"Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an introduction. I
+don't know HIS name, yet," she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and
+a member of her church--it was the duty of all the church members
+to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow
+usually on Thursday afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy.
+To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given
+it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+"And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Nancy had declared in
+private afterwards to Pollyanna; "though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the
+job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!"
+
+"But I'd love to do it, Nancy."
+
+"Well, you won't--after you've done it once," predicted Nancy, sourly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a
+soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All
+is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her."
+
+"But, why, Nancy?"
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened,
+has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't
+run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas
+Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted
+chicken--but if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for
+lamb broth!"
+
+"Why, what a funny woman," laughed Pollyanna. "I think I shall like
+to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and different. I love
+DIFFERENT folks."
+
+"Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the sake
+of the rest of us!" Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at
+the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling,
+indeed, at the prospect of meeting this "different" Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+
+"How do you do?" began Pollyanna politely. "I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please."
+
+"Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,"
+muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at
+the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly."
+
+"Dear me! Jelly?" murmured a fretful voice. "Of course I'm very much
+obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth to-day."
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+"Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,"
+she said.
+
+"What?" The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+"Why, nothing, much," apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; "and of course
+it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+chicken--but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot."
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a most
+unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+
+"Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?" she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too! That
+would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's
+why I'm here with the jelly this morning."
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on
+her pillow listlessly.
+
+"Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--" She
+stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. "I
+never slept a wink last night--not a wink!"
+
+"O dear, I wish _I_ didn't," sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on the
+little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair. "You
+lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?"
+
+"Lose time--sleeping!" exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+"Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+can't live nights, too."
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!" she cried. "Here! do you go
+to that window and pull up the curtain," she directed. "I should like to
+know what you look like!"
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+"O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?" she sighed, as she
+went to the window; "--and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!" she broke off excitedly,
+as she turned back to the bed; "I'm so glad you wanted to see me,
+because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!"
+
+"Me!--pretty!" scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+"Why, yes. Didn't you know it?" cried Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, no, I didn't," retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived
+forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy
+wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they
+were.
+
+"Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too,
+and curly," cooed Pollyanna. "I love black curls. (That's one of the
+things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two
+little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I
+should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass."
+
+"The glass!" snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. "Yes,
+well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days--and you
+wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!"
+
+"Why, no, of course not," agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. "But
+wait--just let me show you," she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau
+and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+critical gaze.
+
+"I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+little before I let you see it," she proposed. "May I fix your hair,
+please?"
+
+"Why, I--suppose so, if you want to," permitted Mrs. Snow, grudgingly;
+"but 'twon't stay, you know."
+
+"Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair," exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. "I sha'n't
+do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty
+you are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+lovely time with it," she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or
+shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better
+pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly
+scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to
+tingle with a feeling perilously near to excitement.
+
+"There!" panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by
+and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect.
+"Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!" And she held out the mirror
+in triumph.
+
+"Humph!" grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. "I like
+red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+night, so what's the difference!"
+
+"But I should think you'd be glad they did fade," laughed Pollyanna,
+"'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+hair fluffed out like that," she finished with a satisfied gaze. "Don't
+you?"
+
+"Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the
+pillow as I do."
+
+"Of course not--and I'm glad, too," nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+"because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+like mine does."
+
+"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray too
+soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+mirror before her face.
+
+"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it," sighed
+Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+"Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black
+hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day as I do!"
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+"Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?" she mused
+aloud.
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Be glad about things."
+
+"Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+should say it would," retorted Mrs. Snow. "If you don't think so, just
+tell me something to be glad about; that's all!"
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come
+I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by," she
+called again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+
+"Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?" ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up
+the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+"That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake," she
+muttered under her breath. "I declare, I didn't know it could look so
+pretty. But then, what's the use?" she sighed, dropping the little glass
+into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+still lay among the bedclothes--thought it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+
+"Why, mother--the curtain is up!" cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare
+between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+
+"Well, what if it is?" snapped the sick woman. "I needn't stay in the
+dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?"
+
+"Why, n-no, of course not," rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as
+she reached for the medicine bottle. "It's only--well, you know very
+well that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+wouldn't."
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+"I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead of lamb
+broth, for a change!"
+
+"Why--mother!"
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer
+behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months
+had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+with a bright smile.
+
+"It isn't so nice to-day, is it?" she called blithesomely. "I'm glad it
+doesn't rain always, anyhow!"
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna
+decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore
+(which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She
+thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man
+was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the
+ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the
+glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a
+special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.
+
+"How do you do?" she chirped. "I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+you?"
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+"See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right
+now, once for all," he began testily. "I've got something besides
+the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not."
+Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+"No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you."
+
+"Yes; well--Eh? What?" he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding of
+her words.
+
+"I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you know--that
+the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you
+only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+thinking of it!"
+
+"Well, of all the--" ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.
+He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back,
+still frowning.
+
+"See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?"
+
+"I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still,
+I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so."
+
+"Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?" The
+man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still
+trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but that
+you're just as good, of course--maybe better," she added in hurried
+politeness. "You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!"
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+"Well, of all the--" he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as
+before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight
+into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really
+pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+"Good afternoon," he greeted her a little stiffly. "Perhaps I'd better
+say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day."
+
+"But you don't have to tell me," nodded Pollyanna, brightly. "I KNEW you
+knew it just as soon as I saw you."
+
+"Oh, you did, did you?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile."
+
+"Humph!" grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+first, though usually he said little but "good afternoon." Even that,
+however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+one day when the greeting was given.
+
+"Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna," she gasped, "did that man SPEAK TO YOU?"
+
+"Why, yes, he always does--now," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+"'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?" demanded Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+"I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+introducing, but he didn't."
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+"But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I guess,
+except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
+He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him--comes down ter the
+hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he
+wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time--only it'll be
+somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'."
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and
+I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally.
+We used to say how glad we were we liked beans--that is, we said it
+specially when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that
+was sixty cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?"
+
+"Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
+There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills,
+if he wanted to--and not know it."
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+"As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+come to try to chew 'em!"
+
+"Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it," shrugged Nancy. "He ain't
+spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it."
+
+"Oh, for the heathen," surmised Pollyanna. "How perfectly splendid!
+That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told
+me."
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+something that prevented the words being spoken.
+
+"Humph!" she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on: "But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss
+Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great
+big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's
+crazy, and some jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his
+closet."
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" shuddered Pollyanna. "How can he keep such a dreadful
+thing? I should think he'd throw it away!"
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead
+of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+correcting the mistake.
+
+"And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious," she went on. "Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know."
+
+"Oh, a missionary," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+"Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+money here--leastways, not for jest livin'."
+
+"Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen," declared Pollyanna.
+"But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs. Snow,
+only he's a different different."
+
+"Well, I guess he is--rather," chuckled Nancy.
+
+"I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me," sighed Pollyanna
+contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as
+at first, in a darkened room.
+
+"It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother," announced Milly, in a
+tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+
+"Oh, it's you, is it?" asked a fretful voice from the bed. "I remember
+you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you
+had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday."
+
+"Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+to-day is, then," laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room,
+and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. "My! but aren't you
+dark here, though? I can't see you a bit," she cried, unhesitatingly
+crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. "I want to see if
+you've fixed your hair like I did--oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm
+glad you haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later.
+But now I want you to see what I've brought you."
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+"Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,"
+she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket. "Well, what is
+it?"
+
+"Guess! What do you want?" Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+"Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of," she sighed. "After all, they
+all taste alike!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?"
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+what she DID want seemed impossible--until she knew what she had.
+Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+waiting.
+
+"Well, of course, there's lamb broth--"
+
+"I've got it!" crowed Pollyanna.
+
+"But that's what I DIDN'T want," sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+her stomach craved. "It was chicken I wanted."
+
+"Oh, I've got that, too," chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+"Both of them?" she demanded.
+
+"Yes--and calf's-foot jelly," triumphed Pollyanna. "I was just bound you
+should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+course, there's only a little of each--but there's some of all of 'em!
+I'm so glad you did want chicken," she went on contentedly, as she
+lifted the three little bowls from her basket. "You see, I got to
+thinking on the way here--what if you should say tripe, or onions,
+or something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a
+shame--when I'd tried so hard?" she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally to find
+something she had lost.
+
+"There! I'm to leave them all," announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+three bowls in a row on the table. "Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?" she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+"Very poorly, thank you," murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her
+usual listless attitude. "I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins
+next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly
+wild. She was at it all the morning--every minute! I'm sure, I don't
+know what I shall do!"
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies' Aiders,
+you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+have. Can you?"
+
+"Can I--what?"
+
+"Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position when the
+music gets too hard to stand."
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+"Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed," she rejoined a little
+irritably.
+
+"Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?" nodded
+Pollyanna. "Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says.
+She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it
+hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being deaf, so."
+
+"Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and she came to visit
+'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they had
+such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White
+felt so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she
+DID hear it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if
+she was deaf and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You
+see, she was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it."
+
+"The--game?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what you can
+be glad about."
+
+"GLAD about! What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though you did have to
+lie here abed all day."
+
+"Oh!" scoffed the woman. "THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't
+suppose you were in earnest any more than I was."
+
+"Oh, yes, I was," nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; "and I found it, too.
+But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard.
+And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for
+a while. Then I got it."
+
+"Did you, really? Well, what is it?" Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know," she announced impressively.
+Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+"Well, really!" she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+voice.
+
+"And now I'll tell you the game," proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. "It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so hard. And
+there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this." And
+she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll
+that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+"Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna," she said with dreary
+listlessness. "She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to make up before
+dark."
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+"All right," she sighed. "I'll hurry." Suddenly she laughed. "I suppose
+I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?"
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+cheeks.
+
+"Good-by," flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+"I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+next time!"
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy;
+but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I should have
+failed signally in my duty."
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but
+one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+"Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they
+should be just happy days?" she asked wistfully.
+
+"That is what I mean, Pollyanna."
+
+"They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?"
+
+"Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to show
+for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!"
+
+"Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?" questioned Pollyanna, a
+little anxiously.
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you
+won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Game? What game?"
+
+"Why, that father--" Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+"N-nothing," she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"That will do for this morning, Pollyanna," she said tersely. And the
+sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room,
+met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!" she cried. "You were coming up
+to see me! Come right in. I love company," she finished, scampering up
+the stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself,
+not in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little
+room sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs--so many, many times
+since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+"I love company," said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+dispensing the hospitality of a palace; "specially since I've had this
+room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas
+a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are
+they? And of course I do own this one, don't I?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna," murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+"And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--" With a painful
+blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+
+"What's that, Pollyanna?"
+
+"N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it."
+
+"Probably not," returned Miss Polly, coldly; "but you did say it, so
+suppose we have the rest of it."
+
+"But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course--"
+
+"PLANNING on them!" interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+"I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly," she apologized. "It was
+only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh,
+we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and
+one had ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those
+two pictures; the one fath--I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+wanted them, so--pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+here, and--and--but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I
+mean, a few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there couldn't
+be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've been so
+good to me, that--"
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," she said stiffly.
+
+"You have said quite enough, I'm sure." The next minute she had swept
+down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor did it
+suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a
+white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+
+"Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there
+for the present."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Nancy aloud.
+
+"O glory!" said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+"And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter
+sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are--you are!"
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+"You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?"
+
+"I guess you'll think it's really and truly," prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+had taken from the closet. "I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind."
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at
+a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her
+goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's
+got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides
+the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt
+Polly!"
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of
+course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will
+take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that
+chair; and you have banged two doors in the last half-minute." Miss
+Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable
+reason, she felt inclined to cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling
+inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+"Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors," she admitted cheerfully. "You
+see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+doors if--" Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new interest.
+"Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?"
+
+"I hope--not, Pollyanna!" Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!" Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+"A shame!" repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+"Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+ever glad over anything--or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't have
+helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!"
+
+"PollyANna!" gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the
+distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had
+gone to help Nancy bring down "her things."
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but then, of
+course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some changes--none
+of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+
+"And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too," she told her
+aunt in happy confidence; "'cause I wanted to bring it home all the
+time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here."
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery
+in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats--not
+even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+"Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+all mangy and fleay."
+
+"I know it, poor little thing," crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking
+into the little creature's frightened eyes. "And it's all trembly, too,
+it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep
+it, of course."
+
+"No--nor anybody else," retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+
+"Oh, yes, they do," nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her
+aunt's words. "I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find
+where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it--poor little lonesome
+thing!"
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+had her now fast in its grip.
+
+"Of course I knew," hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, "that you wouldn't
+let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+anybody. I knew you'd feel that way," she nodded happily, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Miss Polly. "I don't--" But
+Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+"Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going
+to bring up along with me!" And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room--who
+abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay, powerless
+to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy--a role that
+Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+that the woman--who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+possible--found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small,
+ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss
+Polly did have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot
+jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of
+friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna
+had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow
+herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was
+not playing it very well--she had been sorry for everything for so long,
+that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning
+fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she
+was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what
+she had been wanting--she did not know that Milly, at the front door,
+had told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent
+over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+"Hullo," smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+"Hullo yourself," he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly," she
+chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was "used
+to Ladies' Aiders," and "didn't mind," she had sighed at times for some
+companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of
+this one.
+
+"My name's Pollyanna Whittier," she began pleasantly. "What's yours?"
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+settled back.
+
+"Jimmy Bean," he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+"Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some folks
+don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+live?"
+
+"Nowhere."
+
+"Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere," asserted
+Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place."
+
+"Oh! Where is it?"
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+"Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!"
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she
+did not like to be called "silly." Still, he was somebody besides--old
+folks. "Where did you live--before?" she queried.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!" sighed the boy
+impatiently.
+
+"I have to be," retorted Pollyanna calmly, "else I couldn't find out a
+thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much."
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+time.
+
+"All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old goin'
+on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but they've
+got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+somewheres else--but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a
+home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of
+a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks
+since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but--they
+didn't want me--though I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is
+that all you want ter know?" The boy's voice had broken a little over
+the last two sentences.
+
+"Why, what a shame!" sympathized Pollyanna. "And didn't there anybody
+want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after--after my
+father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until
+Aunt Polly said she'd take--" Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of
+a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+
+"Oh, I know just the place for you," she cried. "Aunt Polly'll take
+you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy
+and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to
+go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take
+you! You don't know how good and kind she is!"
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+"Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!"
+He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+"Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the
+world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's
+rooms--heaps of 'em," she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging
+at his arm. "It's an awful big house. Maybe, though," she added a little
+anxiously, as they hurried on, "maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic
+room. I did, at first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so
+hot, and the flies can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on
+their feet. Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll
+let you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And you've
+got freckles, too,"--with a critical glance--"so you'll be glad there
+isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any
+wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm
+sure," panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of
+her breath for purposes other than talking.
+
+"Gorry!" exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added: "I shouldn't think anybody who could talk
+like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time
+with!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that," she retorted; "for when I'm
+talking, YOU don't have to!"
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," she triumphed, "just look a-here! I've got something
+ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up.
+It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at
+first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most
+of the time to play with, I reckon."
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+she thought she understood enough.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+you find him?" she demanded sharply.
+
+The "dirty little boy" fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+"There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy is--just like Fluffy
+and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve all
+right by washing, just as they did, and--Oh, I 'most forgot again," she
+broke off with a laugh. "This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Well, what is he doing here?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!" Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+surprise. "He's for you. I brought him home--so he could live here, you
+know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+course he's even nicer than cats and dogs."
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+erect.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you
+must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who--"
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+fearlessly.
+
+"I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have
+come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me,
+a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter
+take me in. So, there!" And he wheeled about and stalked from the room
+with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," choked Pollyanna. "Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to
+have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The "good and kind" of the boy's
+words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was
+almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom
+of her will power.
+
+"Pollyanna," she cried sharply, "WILL you stop using that everlasting
+word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning till night until I
+think I shall grow wild!"
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly," she breathed, "I should think you'd be glad to have
+me gl--Oh!" she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+him.
+
+"Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am," she
+panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+"Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you," retorted the boy, sullenly. "But I
+ain't no beggar!" he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+"Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie," appealed
+Pollyanna. "Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and
+I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and kind,
+really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do
+wish I could find some place for you, though!"
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+"Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you
+know."
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+illumined.
+
+"Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them.
+That's what father always did, when he wanted anything--educating the
+heathen and new carpets, you know."
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a Ladies'
+Aid?"
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+"Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know what a
+Ladies' Aid is!"
+
+"Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin'," grunted the boy, turning and
+beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+"It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give
+suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies' Aid is.
+They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven't
+seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going to tell
+them about you this afternoon."
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear
+a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!"
+
+"Oh, but you wouldn't be there," argued Pollyanna, quickly. "I'd go
+alone, of course, and tell them."
+
+"You would?"
+
+"Yes; and I'd tell it better this time," hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. "And there'd be some of
+'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home."
+
+"I'd work--don't forget ter say that," cautioned the boy.
+
+"Of course not," promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point
+was gained. "Then I'll let you know to-morrow."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house."
+
+"All right. I'll be there." The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+"Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see
+I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't leave till this
+mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+they'd pretend I couldn't come--though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+They don't CARE!"
+
+"I know," nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. "But I'm sure, when
+I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care
+all ready for you. Good-by!" she called brightly, as she turned back
+toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a
+bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In
+her ears still was the boy's scornful "you was so good and kind." In her
+heart was a curious sense of desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent
+meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried
+to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four
+times she was obliged to break off a "glad" in the middle of it, much
+to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved
+her head wearily.
+
+"There, there, child, say it, if you want to," she sighed. "I'm sure I'd
+rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss."
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+"Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say it. You
+see I've played it so long."
+
+"You've--what?" demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+"Played it--the game, you know, that father--" Pollyanna stopped with a
+painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies'
+Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry
+for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
+not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean
+before the Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called
+Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel
+next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+
+"I want them all to be there," she said to herself; "else the very one
+that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy
+Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really--to
+Ladies' Aiders."
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel
+steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of
+feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a
+brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+Ladies' Aid.
+
+"How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?" she faltered politely. "I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU--only
+I don't know you all together this way."
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+then.
+
+"I--I've come to--to lay the case before you," stammered Pollyanna,
+after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's familiar
+phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+"Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?" asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's
+wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+"Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It
+was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father."
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+"Yes, dear. What is it?"
+
+"Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean," sighed Pollyanna. "He hasn't any home
+except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has
+a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him--to
+live with you, you know."
+
+"Well, did you ever!" murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to say; he will work," she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk
+among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was
+no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to
+think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who
+had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no
+one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's
+wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his
+support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year
+to the little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year.
+Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not
+have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at
+all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their
+society in a certain "report" "headed the list"--and of course that
+could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and
+not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she
+found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was very sorry,
+too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they
+would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than
+to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for
+which they would not get "a bit of credit in the report," according to
+the tall lady who wore spectacles.
+
+"Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there," sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+as she trudged sorrowfully along. "But they acted as if little boys HERE
+weren't any account--only little boys 'way off. I should THINK, though,
+they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow--than just a report!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had
+been a hard day, for all it had been a "vacation one" (as she termed
+the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and
+Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a
+walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill,
+therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+"I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway," she was telling
+herself; "and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the
+woods, even if I do have to climb to get there."
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+to-morrow.
+
+"I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud," sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. "Anyhow, if they were up
+here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little
+boy, all right," she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to
+give a reason for it, even to herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still
+barking.
+
+"Hullo, doggie--hullo!" Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly,
+but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was
+still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at
+once, whining and barking.
+
+"Ho! That isn't the way home," laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth,
+between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining
+pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from
+his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal--so eloquent that at
+last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the
+side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?"
+
+"Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine," snapped the
+man irritably. "See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have
+you got any sense?"
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day--they didn't know
+I heard, though."
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+"There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen." He paused, and with some difficulty
+reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of
+keys, singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. "Straight
+through the path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key
+will admit you to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know
+what a porte-cochere is?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof
+I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me."
+
+"Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk
+in the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to
+use a telephone?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Polly now," cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+move himself a little.
+
+"Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+one!"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+names, and--"
+
+"Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle
+Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a
+stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to
+come by the path from the house."
+
+"A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!" shuddered
+Pollyanna. "But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--"
+
+"Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+and stop talking," moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now
+at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared
+verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she
+sped across the big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door
+under the porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon
+the keys, were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt
+in the lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she
+paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide,
+sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's
+house; the house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master
+entered; the house which sheltered, somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she,
+Pollyanna, was expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and
+telephone the doctor that the master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the
+hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold
+across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the
+fireplace, and touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in
+the middle of the room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly
+tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's
+to "Chilton." In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end
+of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering
+the doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the
+receiver and drew a long breath of relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had
+left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+"Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?" he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+"Why, of course I could! I'm HERE," she answered. "As if I'd be here
+if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as
+possible with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were,
+so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with you."
+
+"Did you?" smiled the man, grimly. "Well, I can't say I admire your
+taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions."
+
+"Do you mean--because you're so--cross?"
+
+"Thanks for your frankness. Yes."
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!"
+
+"Indeed! How do you know that?" asked the man, trying to change the
+position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+"Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the dog," she
+added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the dog's sleek
+head near him. "It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks
+better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your head,"
+she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change
+was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+
+"Well, that is--better," he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if
+his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself
+almost cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there
+so helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west
+and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she
+hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of
+her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost
+under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the
+motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he gave a
+short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna
+knew by sight as "Dr. Chilton"--advanced cheerily.
+
+"Well, my little lady, playing nurse?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "I've only held his head--I haven't
+given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here."
+
+"So am I," nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+"Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you," she sighed in
+obvious relief. "It's half-past six!"
+
+"I know it," admitted Pollyanna anxiously; "but I'm not to blame--truly
+I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either."
+
+"She won't have the chance," retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+"She's gone."
+
+"Gone!" gasped Pollyanna. "You don't mean that I've driven her away?"
+Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories
+of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome
+"glad" and forbidden "father" that would spring to her forgetful little
+tongue. "Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?"
+
+"Not much you did," scoffed Nancy. "Her cousin died suddenly down to
+Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three
+days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house
+tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!"
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?"
+
+"Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--"
+Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. "Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+game," she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+"I can't help it, Nancy," she argued with a shake of her head. "It
+must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game
+on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral
+to be glad about."
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"We can be glad 'tain't our'n," she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+himself.
+
+"Well, maybe 'tis natural," he sighed. "Of course things you don't know
+about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way
+ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody
+over in India wanted ME?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West--but
+that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+come all the way here as I did!"
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+"Do you think they would--truly--take me?" he asked.
+
+"Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring
+up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time.
+I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait.
+I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs.
+White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most--which is
+kind of funny, isn't it?--when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+Aiders will take you."
+
+"All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,"
+put in Jimmy. "I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with
+Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'." He hesitated, then added: "An' I s'pose I
+better stay where I be fur a spell yet--till you hear."
+
+"Of course," nodded Pollyanna emphatically. "Then I'll know just where
+to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far enough away for
+that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!" she broke off, suddenly, "DO you
+suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?"
+
+"Well, if you ain't the queerest kid," grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+said to her aunt one morning:
+
+"Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow
+wouldn't--this once."
+
+"Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?" sighed her aunt. "You ARE
+the most extraordinary child!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+can't be ORdinary, can you?"
+
+"You certainly can not."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary," sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. "You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs.
+Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+awful. They were always fight--I mean, father had--that is, I mean, WE
+had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between any of
+the rest of the Aiders," corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from
+her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in
+regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+"Yes, yes; well, never mind," interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. "You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're
+talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!"
+
+"Yes'm," smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, "I reckon I do, maybe. But you
+see they used to bring me up, and--"
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," interrupted a cold voice. "Now what is it
+about this jelly?"
+
+"Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this once. You see,
+broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+after just once or twice."
+
+"'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?"
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods,
+you know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and
+the doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came
+away and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs.
+Snow this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him
+instead of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I suppose so," acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. "Who
+did you say he was?"
+
+"The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton."
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+"JOHN PENDLETON!"
+
+"Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+"Do YOU know him?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross OUTSIDE, you
+know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+in," finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+
+"Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've
+changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as
+usual. That is all. You may go now."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I
+mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now."
+
+"Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,"
+said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; "but--I do not care to be sending
+jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna."
+
+"I know, he is cross--outside," admitted Pollyanna, sadly, "so I suppose
+you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas
+me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly."
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped,
+and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+"Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?"
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+"I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never."
+
+"Does he know where you--live?"
+
+"Oh, no. I never told him that."
+
+"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna
+with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+Polly roused herself with a start.
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna," she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+unlike her own; "you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does
+not think I do!"
+
+"Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly," exulted Pollyanna, as she flew
+through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when
+she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows
+were open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard,
+and the doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch
+of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but
+there was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the
+clothes opened the door.
+
+"If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,"
+smiled Pollyanna.
+
+"Thank you," said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+hand. "Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?"
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+forward.
+
+"Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?" he asked genially. "That will be fine!
+Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+"But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any one?"
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded the doctor, imperturbably. "But I'm giving orders
+now. I'll take the risk." Then he added whimsically: "You don't know, of
+course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton
+this afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+"She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients
+do--I'm thankful to say!"
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+"Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?"
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated
+to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor
+of most of them. All is," he added, with another whimsical smile, as
+he stepped out on to the porch, "I wish I could prescribe her--and buy
+her--as I would a box of pills;--though if there gets to be many of
+her in the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and
+ditch-digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,"
+he laughed, picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk,
+and not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in
+its proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+"If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+doctor said I was to--to bring her in."
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+"See here, didn't I say--" began an angry voice. "Oh, it's you!" it
+broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+
+"Yes, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see,
+at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't
+going to see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might.
+Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?"
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he
+said was "Humph!"
+
+"And I've brought you some jelly," resumed Pollyanna; "--calf's-foot. I
+hope you like it?" There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+
+"Never ate it." The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but
+it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+"Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if
+you knew--"
+
+"Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that
+I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay
+here--till doomsday, I guess."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it
+will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than
+we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of course I believe the
+Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would
+if it should come now, and--"
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in at that
+moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very silent--retreat.
+He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath
+of cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+"Aren't you getting a little mixed?" asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+"Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones, you
+know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours won't
+last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of that."
+
+"Oh, I am," retorted the man grimly.
+
+"And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two." Pollyanna
+was warming to her task.
+
+"Of course! So fortunate," sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+"looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't
+a centipede and didn't break fifty!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"Oh, that's the best yet," she crowed. "I know what a centipede is;
+they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--"
+
+"Oh, of course," interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+coming back to his voice; "I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I
+suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the
+kitchen!"
+
+"Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have them!"
+
+"Well, I--eh?" he demanded sharply.
+
+"Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em--and
+you lying here like this!"
+
+"As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+matter," retorted the man, testily, "because I am lying here like
+this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who
+aids and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the
+doctor who eggs 'em both on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+"Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've been
+saving it, too, all this time."
+
+"When--eh?"
+
+"Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+cents?"
+
+"Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?"
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+"About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for the
+heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one
+of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me."
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+"Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire who
+Nancy is?"
+
+"Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly."
+
+"Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?"
+
+"She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her."
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+"Miss--Polly--Harrington!" he breathed. "You live with--HER!"
+
+"Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know," faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. "She was her
+sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of us in
+Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid;
+so she took me."
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose uncertainly
+to her feet.
+
+"I reckon maybe I'd better go now," she proposed. "I--I hope you'll
+like--the jelly."
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a
+curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at
+which she marvelled.
+
+"And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece," he said gently.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+"I--I suppose you know--her."
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+"Oh, yes; I know her." He hesitated, then went on, still with that
+curious smile. "But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it was Miss
+Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?" he said slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you
+think she did send it. But I--"
+
+"I thought as much," vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The
+nurse stood on the steps.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?"
+asked the doctor smilingly. "I started to drive on a few minutes ago;
+then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride," beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+"Do you?" smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young
+man on the steps. "Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many
+things you 'love' to do--eh?" he added, as they drove briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are," she admitted. "I like
+to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other
+things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+aren't LIVING."
+
+"No? What are they, then?"
+
+"Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'" sighed Pollyanna, with a
+rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+"Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that."
+
+"Yes," responded Pollyanna. "But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow."
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+"After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl," he said.
+Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at
+his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished,
+uneasily, that she could "do something." It was this, perhaps, that
+caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+"Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+kind of a business there was."
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+"'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?" he
+cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course you're
+glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us, all
+the time."
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was
+a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room
+office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking
+now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been
+suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again
+would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without
+that new-found exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"God bless you, little girl," he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: "And I'm thinking,
+after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+needed a draft of that tonic!" All of which puzzled Pollyanna very
+much--until a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter
+from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+"I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor," announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. "He's lovely, Nancy!"
+
+"Is he?"
+
+"Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+gladdest one there was."
+
+"What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but thinks
+they is, which is worse?" Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad,
+even then. Guess!"
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this
+game of "being glad" quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+studying out Pollyanna's "posers," too, as she called some of the little
+girl's questions.
+
+"Oh, I know," she chuckled. "It's just the opposite from what you told
+Mis' Snow."
+
+"Opposite?" repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+"Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like
+her--all sick, you know."
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks--the
+sick ones, I mean, what he doctors," finished Nancy in triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+"Why, y-yes," she admitted. "Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it. It
+isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but--You do play
+the game so funny, sometimes Nancy," she sighed, as she went into the
+house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+"Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?"
+questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?"
+
+"Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?"
+
+"He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and--"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+"Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?"
+
+"Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't."
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+"You TOLD him I didn't!"
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+voice.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!"
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+"I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different matter from
+TELLING him outright that I did not send it." And she turned vexedly
+away.
+
+"Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is," sighed Pollyanna,
+as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by
+the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened
+pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+"Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too," she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+sitting room.
+
+"Got what, you impossible child?"
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+"And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
+mean," she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
+above her ears. "But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
+can't hide the black part."
+
+"Pollyanna, what does all this mean?" demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+
+"No, no--please, Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
+of distressed appeal. "Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
+about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
+pretty!"
+
+"Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?"
+
+"But it isn't nonsense," urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
+her aunt's remarks. "You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
+like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+be ever so much prettier than she was!"
+
+"Pollyanna!" (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
+because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+"loved" to see her "pretty"?) "Pollyanna, you did not answer my
+question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?"
+
+"Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
+and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
+I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
+you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
+as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
+let me do your hair, won't you?"
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
+upon her, she knew.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+them, I was so ashamed! I--"
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+"You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair," she crowed
+triumphantly; "and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
+sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
+didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
+wait just where you are. I'll get a comb."
+
+"But Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the
+little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+"Oh, did you come up here?" Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+Polly's own room. "That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit
+down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, I--I--"
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her
+hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle
+fingers.
+
+"Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got," prattled Pollyanna; "and there's
+so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need
+more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks
+can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it--and
+surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make
+you so pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!"
+
+"Pollyanna!" gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair.
+"I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing."
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to
+look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much
+happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other
+kind I'm so sorry for them."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+"And I just love to do folks' hair," purred Pollyanna, contentedly. "I
+did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there wasn't any of them so
+nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked
+just lovely one day when I dressed her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell.
+Now your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you
+just a minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!" she finished, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+hair up properly again. As for "peeking" just as if she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in
+the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a flush of
+rosy color to her cheeks that--she only flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay
+in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the ears in
+wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+
+"Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?" she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+take but just a minute, then I'll let you see."
+
+"But, Pollyanna," began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, "you
+must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you doing?" she gasped,
+as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she
+was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful
+lace shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+should not be "dressed up."
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled
+her aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose
+blooming on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+
+"Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?" recoiled
+Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. "Pollyanna, I shall
+not--"
+
+"It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time," panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and
+thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. "There!"
+she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit
+of linen far from her. "Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I
+dressed you up!"
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through
+the open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+she leaned forward.
+
+"Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here."
+
+"Yes," smiled the doctor, a little gravely. "Will you come down,
+please?"
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+"Pollyanna, how could you?" moaned the woman. "To think of your rigging
+me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!"
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+"But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--"
+
+"'Lovely'!" scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!"
+
+"Stay? Like this? As if I would!" And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+fingers.
+
+"O dear! And you did look so pretty," almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+"I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled," announced the doctor. "Will you go?"
+
+"You mean--an errand--to the drug store?" asked Pollyanna, a little
+uncertainly. "I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders."
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+"Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day,
+if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down
+after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before
+six o'clock."
+
+"I'd love to!" exclaimed Pollyanna. "Let me ask Aunt Polly."
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober
+face.
+
+"Didn't--your aunt want you to go?" asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+"Y-yes," sighed Pollyanna. "She--she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+afraid."
+
+"Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!"
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+"Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone before.'"
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For
+some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+"Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the window of
+the sun parlor?"
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed
+her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed
+her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think
+she looked just lovely?"
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was
+so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+"Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely."
+
+"Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her," nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+"Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+her--that."
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+"But she might not be," cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+"That's so--maybe she wouldn't," she sighed. "I remember now; 'twas
+'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke afterwards about her
+being seen in that rig."
+
+"I thought as much," declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+"Still, I don't see why," maintained Pollyanna, "--when she looked so
+pretty!"
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they
+were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a
+broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day."
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see
+why I shouldn't be, either."
+
+"Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when
+you found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't
+think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would
+admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such
+ungrateful treatment as that!"
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+"But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad your leg
+was broken, of course," she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+"I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while,
+doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you
+a very brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for
+the jelly, too," he added in a lighter voice.
+
+"Did you like it?" asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+"Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that Aunt Polly
+DIDN'T send, is there?" he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir." She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. "Please,
+Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+Polly did NOT send the jelly."
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and
+turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous
+fretfulness.
+
+"Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see
+me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room where the
+telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of
+the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated'
+it to somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too
+heavy for you to carry, I think."
+
+"Oh, I'm awfully strong," declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang
+to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was
+full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+travel--and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether
+it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little
+jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+murmured wistfully:
+
+"Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to
+bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in
+that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys."
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself,
+and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides
+the wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking
+of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western
+town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+"Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going to tell
+you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were,
+the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded
+me of--of something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said
+to myself that I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the
+doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+
+"But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that--that
+the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+Will you--little girl?"
+
+"Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton," breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. "I'd
+love to come!"
+
+"Thank you," said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+more wonderful things it contained.
+
+"And ter think," sighed Nancy, "that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he never talks ter no
+one--no one!"
+
+"Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside," demurred Pollyanna, with
+quick loyalty. "I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either.
+They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him
+very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so
+afraid he'd think she did send it!"
+
+"Probably she didn't call him no duty," shrugged Nancy. "But what beats
+me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna--meanin' no
+offence ter you, of course--but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally
+takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't."
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+"But he did, Nancy," she nodded, "only I reckon even he didn't want
+to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he
+just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of
+something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--"
+
+"What's that?" interrupted Nancy, excitedly. "He said you reminded him
+of something he wanted to forget?"
+
+"Yes. But afterwards--"
+
+"What was it?" Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+"He didn't tell me. He just said it was something."
+
+"THE MYSTERY!" breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. "That's why he
+took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just
+like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em had mysteries and things just
+like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+tell me everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!"
+
+"But he didn't," cried Pollyanna, "not till _I_ talked to HIM, first.
+And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and--"
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!" she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again.
+"Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true," she urged excitedly.
+"It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+to-day."
+
+"I thought as much," triumphed Nancy. "And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+jelly herself, would she?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And you told him she didn't send it?"
+
+"Why, yes; I--"
+
+"And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you
+was her niece. He did that, didn't he?"
+
+"Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly," admitted
+Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+"Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+HARRINGTON'S LOVER!" she announced impressively, but with a furtive
+glance over her shoulder.
+
+"Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him," objected Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+"Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!"
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+"It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had
+had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a lover! But
+Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in
+his life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never
+speak ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss
+Polly's niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of
+somethin' he wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas
+Miss Polly!--an' her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why,
+Miss Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!"
+
+"Oh-h!" breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. "But, Nancy, I
+should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both
+of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to
+make up!"
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+"I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You
+ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the
+world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n,
+it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he
+cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't she--"
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about
+whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+"I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it--so they
+WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some--Miss
+Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!"
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her
+visits were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her
+there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was
+there, he seemed scarcely any the happier for her presence--at least, so
+Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+and "regulatings" of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she was never sure that she would
+not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt
+look that always pained her; and she was never sure which--if any--of
+her words had brought it there. As for telling him the "glad game," and
+trying to get him to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when
+she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
+her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
+conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
+she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
+mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
+to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
+sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
+stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
+tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
+would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
+about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
+the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
+with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
+Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
+Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+"If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor," Aunt Polly
+said.
+
+"Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse," gurgled Pollyanna. "I'd love to
+have Dr. Chilton come to see me!"
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+"It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna," Miss Polly said sternly. "Dr.
+Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
+are worse."
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+
+"And I'm so glad, too," Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. "Of
+course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
+and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
+really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
+you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly," she finished wistfully.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings," reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
+then she sighed:
+
+"I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt Polly!" But her aunt
+was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and
+green edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped
+short in awed delight.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in to
+pay you a visit!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly.
+"Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?" she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+sorts with the world this morning.
+
+"Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+thermometer in the window," he said wearily. "The sun shouldn't strike
+it at all but it does in the morning."
+
+"Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that?
+My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!"
+
+"Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then," laughed the man.
+"How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was,
+if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?"
+
+"I shouldn't care," breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+brilliant band of colors across the pillow. "Just as if anybody'd care
+when they were living all the time in a rainbow!"
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at
+his side.
+
+"Nora," he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, "bring
+me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front
+drawing-room."
+
+"Yes, sir," murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute
+she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she
+advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants
+encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+
+"Thank you. You may set it here on the stand," directed the man. "Now
+get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window
+there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight
+across the window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you," he
+said, when she had carried out his directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+"Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna."
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by
+side, on the bed.
+
+"Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow--I
+don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!"
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up
+the rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a
+low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed
+itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!" breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+"I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't
+you?" she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not
+know what she was talking about. "Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those
+things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow
+and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think
+even Aunt Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she
+lived in a rainbow like that. Don't you?"
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+"Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight
+to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come, now, really,
+what do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now."
+
+"Suppose you tell me, then."
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from
+the very first--from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+window.
+
+"And that's all," she sighed, when she had finished. "And now you know
+why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+unsteadily:
+
+"Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+yourself, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!"
+
+"Don't you?" smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+"No," she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: "I'm afraid,
+Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
+Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!"
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
+had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
+were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
+confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
+her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
+old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
+course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
+of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+"See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?" he
+asked, a little impatiently. "I don't see anything of you, nowadays."
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+"I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round," she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+"Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
+be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
+around," he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
+shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
+library to-day.
+
+"Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
+are," pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
+"You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
+you don't!"
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+"That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?"
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?"
+
+"But I do. I want you. Will you come?"
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!"
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+"You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me," he
+finished more gently. "Would you come--if she did?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+"But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me," she began slowly; "and she
+took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--"
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time,
+when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+"Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in
+our home all the long years to come."
+
+"Yes," pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+"But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been
+a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+you come, my dear?"
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right," sighed the little girl. "Now you
+can take us both, and everything will be lovely."
+
+"Take--you--both?" repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+"Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will
+be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come,
+of course."
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+"Aunt Polly come--HERE!"
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+"Would you rather go THERE?" she asked. "Of course the house isn't quite
+so pretty, but it's nearer--"
+
+"Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?" asked the man, very gently now.
+
+"Why, about where we're going to live, of course," rejoined Pollyanna,
+in obvious surprise. "I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it
+was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years
+to make a home, and--"
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at
+his side.
+
+"The doctor, sir," said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+"Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you--yet," he
+begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+
+"Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!" she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+"Why, what's up?" demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on
+his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+"Overdose of your--tonic, I guess," he laughed, as he noted the doctor's
+eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook
+her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+
+"Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna," he suggested. "I want
+to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to
+tell you," he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.
+"Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this
+afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important."
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+"Yes, it is, I know. I'll go."
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+"I'm not sure I shall let you, after all," he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. "You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+lady."
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it was
+Aunt Polly."
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+"Your--aunt!" he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+"Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.
+I--I'm going to tell you," she burst out, with sudden decision. "He
+said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He
+meant not to mention it to HER."
+
+"HER?"
+
+"Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself
+instead of having me do it--lovers, so!"
+
+"Lovers!" As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as
+if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna, happily. "That's the story-part, you see. I
+didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know."
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to
+his lap.
+
+"Oh! No; I--didn't know," he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+"Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked
+me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly
+like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about
+the woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up
+the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will
+both go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course
+Aunt Polly doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure."
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+
+"Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to see you,
+Pollyanna," he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.
+
+"There's Aunt Polly now in the window," cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+later: "Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!"
+
+"No; she isn't there--now," said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost
+their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+afternoon.
+
+"Pollyanna," he began at once. "I've been trying all night to puzzle
+out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my wanting your Aunt
+Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?"
+
+"Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you
+still felt that way now."
+
+"Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?"
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+eyes.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!"
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+"Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't know."
+
+"Then you--weren't lovers?" Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+
+"Never!"
+
+"And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?"
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+
+"O dear! And it was all going so splendidly," almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+"I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly."
+
+"And you won't--now?" The man asked the question without turning his
+head.
+
+"Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's."
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+"Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's. And--it was
+your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago."
+
+"My mother's!"
+
+"Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+that I do--now." John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He
+was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and
+frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. "I loved
+your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after a time she went away
+with--your father. I did not know until then how much I did--care. The
+whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and--But,
+never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable,
+unloved old man--though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then,
+One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you
+danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
+purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never wanted to
+see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your mother. But--you
+know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you
+always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?"
+
+"But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna's eyes were
+blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+"What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that
+I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little
+girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make you glad, too, my
+dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last
+cent, should go to make you happy."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that money
+you've saved for the heathen!"
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna
+was still talking.
+
+"Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me
+to make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving
+them things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look
+at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
+Nancy on her birthday, and--"
+
+"Yes, yes--never mind about all that," interrupted the man. His face
+was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for "giving
+things" that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. "That's all
+nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what there was, was because of you.
+YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did," he repeated, in answer to
+the shocked denial in her face. "And that only goes to prove all the
+more how I need you, little girl," he added, his voice softening into
+tender pleading once more. "If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me."
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+"Aunt Polly has been so good to me," she began; but the man interrupted
+her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's
+nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+
+"Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do," he contested.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--"
+
+"Glad!" interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. "I'll
+wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything! Oh, she does
+her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience with
+her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of friends
+for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one knows
+her--and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to
+be. As for your coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let
+you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!" he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+"All right. I'll ask her," she said wistfully. "Of course I don't mean
+that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but--" She
+did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+added: "Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;--'cause then
+I supposed SHE was wanted, too."
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+"Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention
+it--yesterday."
+
+"I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count."
+
+"The doctor!" cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+"Not--Dr.--Chilton?"
+
+"Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know."
+
+"Well, of all the--" muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then
+he sat up with sudden interest. "And what did Dr. Chilton say?" he
+asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+imagine you did want to see me."
+
+"Oh, did he, indeed!" answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered
+why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching
+thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John
+Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that
+time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was
+not so imminent.
+
+"Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north," announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+critically. "I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Was she?" murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her
+turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+"You don't seem ter notice what I said," she observed aggrievedly. "I
+said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so
+soon to ask her aunt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her."
+
+"Well, I'm glad," retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. "I am, I am."
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+"GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the
+way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!" she objected.
+
+"There wa'n't no game in it," retorted Nancy. "Never thought of it. YOU
+don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+child!"
+
+"Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel," maintained
+Pollyanna. "What else can it mean?"
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+"Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+duty by ye all the time."
+
+"Why, Nancy," demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, "Aunt Polly always
+does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!" Unconsciously Pollyanna
+repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's somethin'
+more, now, since you came."
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+"There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy," she sighed. "Do you
+think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind--if if I wasn't
+here any more?"
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded
+it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how she could answer it
+honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in
+the face of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the
+afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy only welcomed the question with open
+arms. She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set
+the love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+
+"Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?" cried
+Nancy, indignantly. "As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+remember how at first she hated ter have--"
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+"And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither," rushed on
+Nancy, breathlessly. "It's little ways she has, that shows how you've
+been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down--the cat, and the dog, and
+the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here," finished
+Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide
+the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was not
+quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am that
+Aunt Polly--wants me!"
+
+"As if I'd leave her now!" thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs
+to her room a little later. "I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt
+Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt
+Polly--to want to live with ME!"
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an
+easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because he seemed to be so
+sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that
+had made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of
+her mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great
+gray house as it would be after its master was well again, with its
+silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart
+ached for his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be
+found who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog
+at his feet.
+
+"Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of
+my life?" asked the man, gently.
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+thing for you to do, and--"
+
+"With--YOU?" asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern at
+the corners.
+
+"N-no; but--"
+
+"Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!" interrupted a voice deep with
+emotion.
+
+"I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?"
+
+"I--I didn't ask her," stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved
+gaze of her friend.
+
+"So you didn't even ask her!"
+
+"I couldn't, sir--truly," faltered Pollyanna. "You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I want to
+stay, too," she confessed bravely. "You don't know how good she's been
+to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad
+about things--lots of things. And you know she never used to be. You
+said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+"No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now," he said. "I won't
+ask you--again." The last word was so low it was almost inaudible; but
+Pollyanna heard.
+
+"Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it," she reminded him eagerly.
+"There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there is!"
+
+"Not for me, Pollyanna."
+
+"Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for
+you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another one."
+
+"As if I would have any but you!" resented an indignant voice.
+
+"But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of the
+prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the heathen,
+and--"
+
+"Pollyanna!" interrupted the man, savagely. "Once for all let us end
+that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There
+is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life.
+There!"
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected--the
+grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There
+was only surprised joy.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad! That is," she
+corrected, coloring distressfully, "I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want
+the little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm
+glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!"
+
+"Take--WHO?"
+
+"Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now--when he hears of
+this--he'll be so glad!"
+
+"Will he? Well, I won't," ejaculated the man, decisively. "Pollyanna,
+this is sheer nonsense!"
+
+"You don't mean--you won't take him?"
+
+"I certainly do mean just that."
+
+"But he'd be a lovely child's presence," faltered Pollyanna. She was
+almost crying now. "And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy 'round."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined the man; "but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness."
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+"Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!"
+
+"SKELETON?"
+
+"Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere."
+
+"Why, what--" Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+"Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know," he said
+gently. "In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we aren't always willing
+to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to--our skeletons,
+Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about this nice
+little boy." And Pollyanna told him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night
+she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the
+great house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+
+"And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him," sighed Pollyanna, as
+she said good-by. "I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home--and folks
+that care, you know."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+His children of men had wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse;
+until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had
+prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own
+that matters were no better, but rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most
+energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society
+because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a
+devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo
+work given to a fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor
+Society was in a ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its
+officers. As to the Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its
+superintendent and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and
+that had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done--and
+done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True,
+a few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+(God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+suffering; and must suffer still more unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled
+into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on
+which he had determined to speak:
+
+"'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut
+up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves,
+neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+"'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall
+receive the greater damnation.'
+
+"'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+leave the other undone.'"
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it? Dare
+he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words that
+would follow--his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had pleaded
+earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed--oh, how earnestly he
+longed!--to take now, in this crisis, the right step. But was this--the
+right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down
+at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+"Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or anything,
+have you?" she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to
+smile.
+
+"No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting."
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. "That's all right, then.
+You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him--but he was
+lying down, though. And you are sitting up."
+
+"Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that doctors can
+mend."
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+"I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel like
+that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally. You see
+there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow."
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+"Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother."
+
+"Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+don't know all the family histories."
+
+"Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled
+some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at
+them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance
+away--and it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead.
+Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+
+"It--it's a nice day," she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+start.
+
+"What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day."
+
+"And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October," observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. "Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said
+he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires,
+don't you?"
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+she tried again--by a new route.
+
+"Do You like being a minister?"
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+"Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?"
+
+"Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+used to look like that--sometimes."
+
+"Did he?" The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+"Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+minister."
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Well--what did he say?"
+
+"Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too,
+that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing
+texts."
+
+"The--WHAT?" The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+"Well, that's what father used to call 'em," she laughed. "Of course the
+Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in
+the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that,
+you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he
+counted 'em. There were eight hundred of 'em."
+
+"Eight hundred!"
+
+"Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why father
+named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'"
+
+"Oh!" There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen
+to the words on the top paper in his hands--"But woe unto you, scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!" "And so your father--liked those 'rejoicing
+texts,'" he murmured.
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. "He said he felt better right
+away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+want us to do it--SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done it
+more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when
+they DIDN'T AGREE about something," corrected Pollyanna, hastily.
+"Why, it was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the
+game--he began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it."
+
+"And what game might that be?" asked the minister.
+
+"About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As
+I said, he began with me on the crutches." And once more Pollyanna
+told her story--this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister
+wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking.
+Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper--his sermon notes.
+Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper,
+blank--his sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of
+what he had written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination
+he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister
+who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was
+poring over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to "rejoice and be glad."
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under
+his hand.
+
+"Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23," he wrote; then, with a gesture of
+impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+
+"A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to
+fill his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to
+go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went.
+Why? Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to
+do the right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said
+to your mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill
+that woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as
+Tom was concerned!"
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+somewhere else:
+
+"What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting
+powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always
+harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out
+of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL
+self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful,
+helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole
+town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If
+a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too,
+before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his neighbors
+will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for
+the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the
+good--you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to
+fill that woodbox--then watch him start, alert and interested!"
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was
+on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth.
+Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in
+the chair at his desk.
+
+"God helping me, I'll do it!" he cried softly. "I'll tell all my Toms
+I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do,
+and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't
+have TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!" And he picked up his
+sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him,
+so that on one side of his chair lay "But woe unto you," and on the
+other, "scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" while across the smooth
+white paper before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one
+black line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23.
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was
+a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and
+child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight
+hundred:
+
+"Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+that are upright in heart."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office
+to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it
+chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's
+office.
+
+"I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?" she
+said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Yes--such as 'tis," he answered, as he wrote something on the pad
+of paper in his hand; "but it's a pretty poor apology for a home,
+Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home."
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+understanding.
+
+"I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to
+make a home," she said.
+
+"Eh?" The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton told me," nodded Pollyanna, again; "about the woman's
+hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a
+woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean--if
+Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him."
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+"So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+does he?" he asked evasively.
+
+"Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?"
+
+"Why don't I--what?" The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+"Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot." Pollyanna's face
+showed suddenly a painful color. "I suppose I ought to tell you. It
+wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we--we
+aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was--but I made a
+mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one," she finished anxiously.
+
+"No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna," replied the doctor, a little
+queerly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then," sighed Pollyanna in relief. "You see
+you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of
+funny when I said I'd told YOU."
+
+"Did he?" The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+"Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+Chilton?"
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+"They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl."
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"But I should think you could get 'em," she argued. The flattering
+emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+"Thank you," laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+again: "I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite
+so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown themselves to be
+so--obliging," he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get somebody's hand
+and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and couldn't, did you?"
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+"There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now
+to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the
+directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"No, Sir; thank you, Sir," she murmured soberly, as she turned toward
+the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly
+alight: "Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you
+wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!"
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe
+distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was
+there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame
+that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp
+and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by
+a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly
+and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone,
+Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+"And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face," Nancy was
+sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was
+closeted in the hushed room; "ye didn't need ter more'n look at her
+aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands
+don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back
+the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom
+they don't, they don't!"
+
+"Is she hurt--bad?" The old man's voice shook.
+
+"There ain't no tellin'," sobbed Nancy. "She lay back that white an'
+still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead--an'
+Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept up such a
+listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!"
+
+"Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--" Old Tom's
+face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+"I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an'
+strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I
+always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I did, I did!"
+
+"But where is she hurt?"
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy. "There's a little cut on
+her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly says. She says
+she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt."
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+"I guess you mean internally, Nancy," he said dryly. "She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't guess
+Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same."
+
+"Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy, with a shake of
+her head as she turned away. "Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it
+till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do--the
+biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!" she wailed, wringing her hands
+helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After
+he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn
+looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness,
+but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be
+expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night.
+That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+eyes and realized where she was.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+up?" she cried. "Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up," she moaned, falling
+back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+
+"No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet," soothed her aunt quickly, but very
+quietly.
+
+"But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?"
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+"Tell her," the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+scarcely let her speak.
+
+"You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again."
+
+"Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran." Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her
+hand to her forehead. "Why, it's--done up, and it--hurts!"
+
+"Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest."
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so--so
+queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!"
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to
+her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+
+"Suppose you let me talk to you now," she began cheerily. "I'm sure
+I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+swallow these little white pills for me."
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+"But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I want to
+get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?"
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled
+cry.
+
+"To-morrow?" smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+"Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna.
+But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what
+THEY'LL do."
+
+"All right," agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; "but I MUST go to
+school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then, you know."
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she
+had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school "to-morrow," nor the "day after
+to-morrow." Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily
+when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to
+her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly
+until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened
+somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be
+told all over again what had occurred.
+
+"And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick," she sighed at last. "Well,
+I'm glad of that."
+
+"G-glad, Pollyanna?" asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+"Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+lifelong-invalids don't."
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her
+face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+"I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too," she murmured
+contentedly. "That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't
+whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm glad 'tisn't
+appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're catching--measles are, I
+mean--and they wouldn't let you stay here."
+
+"You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear," faltered Aunt
+Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've been
+looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr. Pendleton
+gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said yet. I
+don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt."
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+"Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+times--and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'--by folks that
+belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me that; and
+of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged
+to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!"
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes
+were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room
+through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened," she panted. "You couldn't
+guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!"
+
+"Then I cal'late I won't try," retorted the man, grimly, "specially as
+I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+first off, Nancy."
+
+"Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+mistress? Who, I say?"
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"There's no tellin'," he declared.
+
+"Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!"
+
+"Sho, now! You're jokin', girl."
+
+"Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all! An'
+the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him, jest as
+if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter no
+one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on HER!"
+
+"Well, why not?" demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+"As if you didn't know better'n me!" she derided.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Oh, you needn't be so innercent," she retorted with mock indignation;
+"--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!"
+
+"What do ye mean?"
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a
+step nearer to the old man.
+
+"Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the
+first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and
+I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five--an'
+no four at all, at all!"
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+"If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense," he declared testily. "I never was no hand for figgers."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, it's this," she explained. "I heard somethin' that made me think
+him an' Miss Polly was lovers."
+
+"MR. PENDLETON!" Old Tom straightened up.
+
+"Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he
+was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never mind that part,"
+she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna
+not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+"Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's
+been hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their
+names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty."
+
+"Yes, I remember," nodded Old Tom. "It was three or four years after
+Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss
+Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter
+be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a little--she hated that minister
+chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter
+make trouble. They said she was runnin' after him."
+
+"Runnin' after any man--her!" interjected Nancy.
+
+"I know it; but they did," declared Old Tom, "and of course no gal of
+any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an'
+the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't
+have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to
+turn bitter at the core."
+
+"Yes, I know. I've heard about that now," rejoined Nancy; "an' that's
+why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the
+door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went
+an' told her."
+
+"What did she say?" Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+"Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and I
+was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+out here an' told you," finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+toward the house.
+
+"Humph!" grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious "parlor" of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of
+Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was
+coldly reserved.
+
+"I called to ask for--Pollyanna," he began at once, a little brusquely.
+
+"Thank you. She is about the same," said Miss Polly.
+
+"And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?" His voice was not quite
+steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+"I can't, I wish I could!"
+
+"You mean--you don't know?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But--the doctor?"
+
+"Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once."
+
+"But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?"
+
+"A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury to the
+spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips down."
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily,
+he asked:
+
+"And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?"
+
+"She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I CAN'T tell
+her."
+
+"But she must know--something!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture
+that had become so common to her of late.
+
+"Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+the other--doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it--it seems
+as if I should--die!"
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back
+to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her
+presence: "Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+control his voice:
+
+"I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me."
+
+"With YOU!--Pollyanna!"
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+"Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her my
+heir, of course."
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to
+her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough
+and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+
+"I am very fond of Pollyanna," the man was continuing. "I am fond of
+her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood ready to give
+Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage."
+
+"LOVE." Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child
+in the first place--and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: "I love to be called
+'dear' by folks that belong to you!" And it was this love-hungry little
+girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five
+years:--and she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking
+heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized
+something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+"Well?" she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+"She would not come," he answered.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She
+wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to
+stay," he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+"When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me," said a trembling voice.
+"Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
+the specialist.
+
+"Pollyanna, my dear," she began gently, "we have decided that we want
+another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know."
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+"Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
+wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
+seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!"
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+"Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
+about--about hurts like yours."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton."
+
+"Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear."
+
+"But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+Chilton--truly I would!"
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
+stern decisiveness:
+
+"But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
+anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
+speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
+believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
+great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow."
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--"
+
+"WHAT, Pollyanna?" Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
+were very red, too.
+
+"I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one," sighed
+Pollyanna, "seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+would do; and I love Dr. Chilton."
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
+feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+"I am very sorry, Pollyanna," she said, a little stiffly; "but I'm
+afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
+already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow."
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come "to-morrow."
+At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
+the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--"which would be so
+easy now, you know."
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said "no, dear," very
+decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+niece.
+
+"I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it," Nancy
+said to Old Tom one morning. "There don't seem ter be a minute in the
+day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
+what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+Miss Pollyanna!
+
+"An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
+the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
+down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
+besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
+didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
+hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
+all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
+wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
+child!"
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+"Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead," he observed
+dryly.
+
+"'Course she ain't," retorted Nancy, indignantly. "She looks like
+FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--"
+
+"Keerful, now, Nancy!" interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. "You
+know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once."
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
+like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
+Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck."
+
+"I told ye so," nodded the man. "I told ye she wa'n't--old."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
+she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!"
+
+"Hain't ye?" asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. "Well, I
+guess ye won't then from me."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now," wheedled the girl. "Ye see, there ain't
+many folks here that I CAN ask."
+
+"Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin'," grinned
+Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. "How is she,
+ter-day--the little gal?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+"Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
+see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
+an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
+or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
+achin'."
+
+"I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!" nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+"She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?"
+
+"Oh, yes. She told me long ago." The old man hesitated, then went on,
+his lips twitching a little. "I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
+bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?"
+
+"I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
+ter be glad about!"
+
+"She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over."
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+"Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
+'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
+speak of--her aunt."
+
+"MISS POLLY!"
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+than I have," she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+"I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her," he
+explained with dignity.
+
+"Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN," retorted Nancy. "I ain't sayin'
+what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
+she'd take ter playin' it herself!"
+
+"But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted," said
+Tom.
+
+"Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly," rejoined Nancy. "Miss Pollyanna told
+me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her."
+
+"Oh, I see, I see." The old man nodded his head slowly. "They was always
+bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
+away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
+him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
+a bad mess," he sighed, as he turned away.
+
+"Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round," sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
+went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
+the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
+petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
+and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
+innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
+were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
+pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
+so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
+to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
+on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+realize that all this "gladness" was in the future, not the present.
+Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected,
+he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+
+"You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see," she added engagingly.
+
+"YOUR doctor?" Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren,
+talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small,
+brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my doctor," smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. "Dr.
+Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton."
+
+"Oh-h!" said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+"Yes." Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+"You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about--about broken
+legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+you?"
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite translate.
+
+"Only time can tell that, little girl," he said gently; then he turned a
+grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly,
+if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+"meow" of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply
+Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+"Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will NEVER WALK
+again!"
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+terrified "Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!" Then Miss Polly, seeing the open
+door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan
+and--for the first time in her life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking "She heard!" stumbled toward the open door.
+The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay--he had
+caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was
+not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the
+door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes,
+awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms
+back to unhappy consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the
+bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed
+little girl.
+
+"Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+please!"
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+pale.
+
+"She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little later.
+What is it? Can't I--get it?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't
+true--'tisn't true!"
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent
+an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+mean I can't ever--walk again?"
+
+"There, there, dear--don't, don't!" choked the nurse. "Perhaps he didn't
+know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could happen,
+you know."
+
+"But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody
+else about--about broken legs like mine!"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't, dear."
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. "But I can't help thinking about
+it," she sobbed. "It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt,
+how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or
+anybody?" She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. "Why, Miss Hunt, if
+I can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not know "the game;" but she did know that her patient
+must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+with the quieting powder ready.
+
+"There, there, dear, just take this," she soothed; "and by and by we'll
+be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half
+as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know."
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+"I know; that sounds like things father used to say," faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. "He said there was always something
+about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard
+he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+that, that could be worse--do you?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she
+felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then
+to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and
+its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.
+She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few
+minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+
+"I'm Nancy, sir," she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. "Miss Harrington
+sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna."
+
+"Well?"
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+anxiety that lay behind that short "well?"
+
+"It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton," she choked.
+
+"You don't mean--" He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+"Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never."
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+"Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!"
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+
+"It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism
+girl!"
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+"She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?"
+
+"But she does, sir." sobbed Nancy, "an' that's what makes it all the
+harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon," apologized the
+girl, hurriedly. "It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way."
+
+"Poor--little--girl!" sighed the man again.
+
+"Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her," choked Nancy. "I
+hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up
+both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps
+thinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,
+too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about her
+game, though," broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+
+"The 'glad game'?" asked the man. "Oh, yes; she told me of that."
+
+"Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.
+But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.
+She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'
+again, ter be glad about."
+
+"Well, why should she?" retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+"That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD be
+easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remind
+her."
+
+"To remind her! Of what?" John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+impatient.
+
+"Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb just
+cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy ter
+TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing when
+you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again."
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+eyes.
+
+"Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+nicer ter play when--when it was hard," resumed Nancy, in a dull voice.
+"But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' I
+must be goin', now, sir," she broke off abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+"I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Bean
+again, I s'pose, sir, could I?"
+
+"I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him," observed the man a
+little shortly. "Why?"
+
+"Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she was
+feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She said
+she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well that
+day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nice
+child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; but
+I didn't, sir."
+
+"Yes, I know--what she means."
+
+"All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,
+she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And
+now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!"
+And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never
+walk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.
+Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had
+always a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the "game" that
+Pollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smiling
+face be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery little
+voice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed
+unbelievable, impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+men talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talking
+nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,
+came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what had
+come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play
+the game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that her
+niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+injured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was these
+messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+
+"I don't need to tell you how shocked I am," he began almost harshly.
+"But can--nothing be done?"
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+"Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying
+them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost no
+hope."
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face was
+white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+presence. At the door he turned.
+
+"I have a message for Pollyanna," he said. "Will you tell her, please,
+that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.
+Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,
+probably."
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+
+"You will adopt Jimmy Bean!" she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+"Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+would be--GLAD!"
+
+"Why, of--of course," faltered Miss Polly.
+
+"Thank you," bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+"Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has
+just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his
+little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it."
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+"Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+presence."
+
+"The--what?"
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told
+her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly she
+would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of
+leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+"The child's presence," stammered Pollyanna, hastily. "Mr. Pendleton
+told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's
+presence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child's
+presence."
+
+"Oh, I--see," said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more than
+Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probably
+brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was
+asking HER to be the "child's presence," which was to transform his
+great pile of gray stone into a home. "I see," she finished, her eyes
+stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton
+house and its master.
+
+"Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or a
+child's presence, to make a home, you know," she remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+"DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?"
+
+"He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--not
+a home."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+"So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, and
+have a home."
+
+"Pollyanna!" Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+color.
+
+"Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful."
+
+"What did he--say?" Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of some
+force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+"He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+couldn't always get 'em for the asking."
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one."
+
+"Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?"
+
+"Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said
+that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world
+if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the
+matter?" Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+
+"Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism," said Aunt
+Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow
+called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly
+entered the room.
+
+"I--I came to inquire for the little girl," she stammered.
+
+"You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?" rejoined
+Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+"That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+Pollyanna," hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. "We
+think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too--for mother, you
+know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how
+now she couldn't play it herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see
+how she CAN, either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the
+things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about the
+game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--" Milly stopped
+helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was "queer,"
+but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words.
+When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+"I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want
+me to tell my niece?"
+
+"Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her," answered the girl, feverishly.
+"Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I
+want her to know HOW different she is--and me, too. I'm different. I've
+been trying to play it--the game--a little."
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+"game," but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with
+nervous volubility.
+
+"You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was always
+wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+much--under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up,
+and she takes interest in things--how she looks, and her nightdress, and
+all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things--reins and baby
+blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD
+to think she can do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you
+know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didn't DO
+something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do something--to
+knit, you know. And you can't think what a different room it is now,
+what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the
+window that SHE gave her--why, it actually makes you feel BETTER just to
+go in there now; and before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark
+and gloomy, and mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+"And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand
+it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that
+we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that
+she knew us. And--and that's all," sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+feet. "You'll tell her?"
+
+"Why, of course," murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of
+many; and always there were the messages--the messages which were in
+some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle
+over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew
+her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was always in black.
+To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror
+at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+"I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps."
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+"Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message," she stammered.
+
+"Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to."
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+"Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS," she said, just
+touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's ill-concealed
+look of surprise, she added: "The little girl has been trying for so
+long to make me wear--some color, that I thought she'd be--glad to know
+I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would.
+You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all--" Mrs. Benton
+shook her head and turned away. "If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand." And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at least, she
+wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered
+vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as
+"Mrs. Tarbell."
+
+"I'm a stranger to you, of course," she began at once. "But I'm not a
+stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was
+on these walks that I've met your niece--she's such a dear little girl!
+I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very
+sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me
+of--my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear
+of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never
+walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any
+longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you."
+
+"You are very kind," murmured Miss Polly.
+
+"But it is you who are to be kind," demurred the other. "I--I want you
+to give her a message from me. Will you?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I
+know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if you'll pardon me
+I'd rather not explain." Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the
+smile left her eyes. "Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt
+that I must tell--her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+rudeness in my call," she begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+"Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's
+at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean--we used to."
+Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+"We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you--but she
+wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+is glad now."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+"Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?"
+
+"Why, it's the game, and--" Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her
+lips.
+
+"What game?"
+
+"N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I tell
+other things that--that I'm not to speak of."
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the
+shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks
+and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation--but
+whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been
+crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the
+little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in
+the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one
+was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was
+still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+"My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some of the
+things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and--and it broke me
+all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and--and
+I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd
+do more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred
+years. But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can
+make the best use of 'em, I notice."
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+still husky.
+
+"Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl
+of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by
+often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the
+kids and talked to me--and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like
+it, and to like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks
+don't generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss
+Harrington, there wouldn't be so many--of my kind," she added, with
+sudden bitterness.
+
+"Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't know--nor can't know,
+I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things--that I don't want
+her to know.
+
+"But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more
+ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and me, and ready
+for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the
+kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's
+never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and
+sit on our doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be
+glad. She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she
+told us why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play
+it.
+
+"Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+her, because she can't play it no more--that there's nothing to be glad
+about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day--that maybe she can be
+a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other, and
+play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+feel kind of bad--at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+Anyhow, we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?"
+
+"Yes, I will tell her," promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then,
+with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. "And
+thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson," she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits
+of the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary
+experience of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping
+point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress
+speak so sternly.
+
+"Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with
+it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to
+her that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town
+are putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to
+like something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I
+tried to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make
+much headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one
+of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?"
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+"It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin'
+ter make her a little glad, too."
+
+"Glad of what?"
+
+"Just glad! That's the game."
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+"There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?"
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+the eye.
+
+"I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her
+ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when
+she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would.
+It seems 'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin'
+but what there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an'
+that she could be glad about them crutches."
+
+"Glad for--CRUTCHES!" Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was thinking of
+the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+"Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she
+said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she DIDN'T NEED
+'EM."
+
+"Oh-h!" cried Miss Polly.
+
+"And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin' somethin'
+in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it, too, and
+that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause ye was
+so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest bein'
+glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since."
+
+"But, how--how--" Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+"An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,"
+maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. "I
+wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out
+home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me
+glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things, an' big things; an'
+it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for
+a name half as much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't
+'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so.
+She's actually made me glad for Monday mornin's."
+
+"Glad--for Monday mornings!"
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed
+lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does
+she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should
+think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in
+the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another
+one!' An' I'm blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin'
+since--an' it HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I
+thought of it; an' laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!"
+
+"But why hasn't--she told me--the game?" faltered Miss Polly. "Why has
+she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?"
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her father;
+so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see."
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+"She wanted ter tell ye, first off," continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. "She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I
+begun it, so she could have some one."
+
+"And--and--these others?" Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+"Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think
+they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she
+told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they
+gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry
+one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't
+help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so
+bad--specially when they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find
+anythin' ter be glad about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter
+tell her how glad she's made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see,
+she's always wanted ev'rybody ter play the game with her."
+
+"Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now," choked Miss Polly, as she
+turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+"Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now," she muttered to herself.
+"Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now--o' Miss
+Polly!"
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+Pollyanna alone together.
+
+"And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear," announced Miss
+Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. "Do you remember Mrs.
+Payson?"
+
+"Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes
+they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say,
+and of course they don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary
+minister, you know, like--well, he isn't."
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+"But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being
+so poor," resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. "And she's got perfectly
+beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?"
+
+"But they aren't going 'way off, dear," evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+"They're going to stay right there together."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O dear!"
+broke off the little girl, miserably. "Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+Mr. Pendleton again?"
+
+"There, there, don't," choked her aunt. "Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson
+said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going to stay
+together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to."
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+"Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!"
+
+"Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make
+you--GLAD, Pollyanna."
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know about
+the game, Aunt Polly?"
+
+"Yes, dear." Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+matter-of-fact. "Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+to play it now--with you."
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you most
+of anybody, all the time."
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+"Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+all the town is playing that game now with you--even to the minister! I
+haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just
+as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you
+told him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it.
+The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully
+happier--and all because of one little girl who taught the people a new
+game, and how to play it."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. "Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway--else I
+couldn't have done--that!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story
+one day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a
+blown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did
+that didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the
+other story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two
+teeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth "hit"!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of
+bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the
+white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she had
+her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to think
+about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.
+John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and
+how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,
+and what bang-up "folks" Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it
+was all owing to her.
+
+"Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,"
+Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed
+treatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's
+worst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into
+a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way
+to procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,
+and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides
+anxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged
+determination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat
+to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas
+Chilton.
+
+"Pendleton," began the doctor, abruptly, "I've come to you because you,
+better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with
+Miss Polly Harrington."
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--he
+did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+years, or more.
+
+"Yes," he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+"Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+MUST make an examination."
+
+"Well--can't you?"
+
+"CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--that
+the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+would be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her
+summoning me now--but I don't!"
+
+"But couldn't you go--without a summons?"
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+"Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know."
+
+"But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+the quarrel--"
+
+"Forget the quarrel!" interrupted the doctor, savagely. "I'm not talking
+of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here
+there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It's
+PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me!'can I?"
+
+"Chilton, what was the quarrel?" demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+"What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?" he snarled,
+pacing the room angrily. "A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or
+the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its having
+any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+or death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!"
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just
+as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached
+the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground
+outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+
+"Walk! Pollyanna!" John Pendleton was saying. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend of
+mine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a
+special study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.
+And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!"
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+"You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?"
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--Miss
+Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+best patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my hands
+still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!
+Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!"
+
+"Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!" retorted Pendleton.
+
+"But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'll
+never get!"
+
+"She must be made to ask you!"
+
+"How?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angry
+to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did ask
+me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when
+I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--" He
+did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,
+angrily.
+
+"But if she could be made to see--to understand," urged John Pendleton.
+
+"Yes; and who's going to do it?" demanded the doctor, with a savage
+turn.
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+"Well, by Jinks, I know!" he whispered, exultingly. "I'M a-goin' ter
+do it!" And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the
+corner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+"It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am," announced Nancy in the
+doorway.
+
+"Me?" rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. "Are you sure he did not
+mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes."
+
+"Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted."
+
+"Very well, I'll come down." And Miss Polly arose from her chair a
+little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+"Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think you
+would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+et--et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you
+WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood--"
+
+"Wh-at?" interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+"There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that."
+
+"Jimmy, what are you talking about?"
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+"That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye."
+
+"Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as
+you did before--and mix everything all up!"
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+"Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+talked in the library. Do you understand that?"
+
+"Yes, Jimmy." Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+"Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it;
+an' I heard 'em talk."
+
+"Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?"
+
+"'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin'," bridled Jimmy.
+"And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make
+Pollyanna--walk!"
+
+"Jimmy, what do you mean?" Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+
+"There, I told ye so," nodded Jimmy, contentedly. "Well, Dr. Chilton
+knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks--make her
+walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+him."
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+"But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!" Miss Polly
+was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+"Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know," asserted
+Jimmy, eagerly. "They said that for some reason--I didn't rightly catch
+what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr. Warren so; an'
+Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him, on account of
+pride an' professional et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was
+wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they didn't know who
+could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away,
+'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?"
+
+"Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor," implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+"Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna
+walk?"
+
+"I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an'
+he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow,
+they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they
+was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An'
+say--you will let him come, won't you?--now you understand?"
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming
+in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes,
+thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she
+said brokenly:
+
+"Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick! I've
+got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a few
+minutes ago."
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to
+hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+"Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+once--please? Thank you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+"Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!" cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. "But, of course, if Aunt
+Polly doesn't want--"
+
+"It is all right, my dear; don't worry," soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+hurrying forward. "I have told Dr. Chilton that--that I want him to look
+you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning."
+
+"Oh, then you asked him to come," murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+
+"Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--" But it was too late. The adoring
+happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and
+Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the
+room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+"Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever
+did has been done to-day," he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+to themselves.
+
+"Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of all. Some
+day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your--uncle. And it's
+you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so--happy! And
+so--glad!--darling!"
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small
+palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+
+"Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted
+so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so glad! Why, Aunt
+Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind--even my legs,
+now!"
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+"Perhaps, some day, dear--" But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was quite wonderful
+enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+"Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages
+to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on
+purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr.
+Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do for you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+"Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I did
+to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six steps. My, how
+good it was to be on legs again!
+
+"All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood
+beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week
+first, peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next
+month, was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and
+clapped her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through
+the piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying
+too much to call me anything.
+
+"I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't mind being
+here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding, anyhow. Wasn't
+that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get married right
+beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of the gladdest
+things!
+
+"Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any
+more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for
+everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never,
+never know how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them--that
+go, I mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+
+"With heaps of love to everybody,
+
+"POLLYANNA."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA ***
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Pollyanna
+
+Author: Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Posting Date: August 27, 2008 [EBook #1450]
+Release Date: September, 1998
+Last Updated: March 9, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller for Tina
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Author of “Miss Billy,” “Miss Billy's Decision,” “Cross Currents,” “The
+Turn of the Tides,” etc.
+
+
+
+
+               TO
+               My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER
+     I.     MISS POLLY
+     II.    OLD TOM AND NANCY
+     III.   THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+     IV.    THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+     V.     THE GAME
+     VI.    A QUESTION OF DUTY
+     VII.   POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+     VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+     IX.    WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+     X.     A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+     XI.    INTRODUCING JIMMY
+     XII.   BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+     XIII.  IN PENDLETON WOODS
+     XIV.   JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+     XV.    DR. CHILTON
+     XVI.   A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+     XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+      XVIII. PRISMS
+     XIX.   WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+     XX.    WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+     XXI.   A QUESTION ANSWERED
+     XXII.  SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+     XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+     XXIV.  JOHN PENDLETON
+     XXV.   A WAITING GAME
+     XXVI.  A DOOR AJAR
+     XXVII. TWO VISITS
+     XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+     XXIX.  THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+     XXX.   JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+     XXXI.  A NEW UNCLE
+     XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she
+specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was
+hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew
+that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+the pitcher in her hand.
+
+“Nancy,”--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--“when I'm talking to
+you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say.”
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the
+cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not add
+to her composure.
+
+“Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,” she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. “I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you
+specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.”
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+“That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+attention.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+she could please this woman. Nancy had never “worked out” before; but
+a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children
+besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward
+their support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in
+the kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from “The
+Corners,” six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as
+the mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest
+residents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly
+now as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to
+the floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even when
+knives and doors were still.
+
+“When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,” Miss Polly was saying
+now, “you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+after you clear out the trunks and boxes.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?”
+
+“In the front attic.” Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: “I suppose I
+may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is
+coming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that
+room.”
+
+“A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!”
+ cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in the
+home at “The Corners.”
+
+“Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,” rejoined Miss
+Polly, stiffly. “However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I
+am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.”
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+“Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you,” she faltered.
+
+“Thank you,” rejoined the lady, dryly. “I can't say, however, that I see
+any immediate need for that.”
+
+“But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child,” ventured
+Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+“Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that
+was already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly
+WANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope
+I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,” she finished
+sharply, as she left the room.
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now so
+cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+
+“Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,
+he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre
+salary.
+
+“I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child
+and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to
+you.
+
+“The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+“Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+
+“Respectfully yours,
+
+“Jeremiah O. White.”
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would
+take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for
+that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time
+when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man
+of wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him to
+the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had married
+the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had
+had little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie
+herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby “Pollyanna”
+ for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. This
+had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there
+had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little
+note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of
+the house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were people
+who had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have
+some friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed
+either their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She
+liked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,
+of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew
+her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.
+But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than
+it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+“I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!” she
+muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+pointed cleaning-stick. “There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
+house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!”
+ snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
+strain; “I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
+just now!”
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+“Well, it's done--my part, anyhow,” she sighed. “There ain't no dirt
+here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
+this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!” she finished, going
+out and closing the door with a bang, “Oh!” she ejaculated, biting
+her lip. Then, doggedly: “Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
+bang,--I do, I do!”
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
+about the place for uncounted years.
+
+“Mr. Tom,” began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
+make sure she was unobserved; “did you know a little girl was comin'
+here ter live with Miss Polly?”
+
+“A--what?” demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+“A little girl--to live with Miss Polly.”
+
+“Go on with yer jokin',” scoffed unbelieving Tom. “Why don't ye tell me
+the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?”
+
+“But it's true. She told me so herself,” maintained Nancy. “It's her
+niece; and she's eleven years old.”
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+“Sho!--I wonder, now,” he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+faded eyes. “It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
+wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+a-seein' this!”
+
+“Who was Miss Jennie?”
+
+“She was an angel straight out of Heaven,” breathed the man, fervently;
+“but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
+was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
+babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one
+what's a-comin'.”
+
+“She's eleven years old.”
+
+“Yes, she might be,” nodded the old man.
+
+“And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!” scolded
+Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind
+her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+“I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,” he
+said.
+
+“Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in
+the house!” snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+“I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,” he grinned.
+
+“As if ever anybody could be fond of her!” scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+“I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,” he said
+slowly.
+
+“Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither.”
+
+“Oh, yes they did,” nodded the old man. “And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.” The old man drew
+himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was
+the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved
+for long years.
+
+“But it don't seem possible--her and a lover,” still maintained Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,” he argued. “She used ter be real
+handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.”
+
+“Handsome! Miss Polly!”
+
+“Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with
+posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things--you'd
+see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.”
+
+“Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of
+it--she has, she has!” sniffed Nancy.
+
+“Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her lover,”
+ nodded Old Tom; “and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood an'
+thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal with.”
+
+“I should say she was,” declared Nancy, indignantly. “There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't
+for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some
+day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be
+good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will.”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child; 'tain't
+best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.” And again he bent his old head
+to the work before him.
+
+“Nancy!” called a sharp voice.
+
+“Y-yes, ma'am,” stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs,
+a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were
+no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All
+day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room
+was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not
+been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+down, up and down, trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+the room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, “I found a
+fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised
+at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall
+expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive
+to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station.
+Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says
+'light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I
+know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am; but--you--”
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+crisply:
+
+“No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+all.” And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of
+her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+“'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she knows,
+indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would--and
+her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!”
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
+Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
+friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
+usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
+station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it “light hair, red-checked
+dress, straw hat.” Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
+of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+“I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+bang doors,” she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+
+“Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,”
+ grinned Timothy. “Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+the whistle now!”
+
+“Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me,” chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
+she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
+red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
+the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
+her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
+standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+
+“Are you Miss--Pollyanna?” she faltered. The next moment she found
+herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,” cried an eager voice in her
+ear. “Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
+hoped you would.”
+
+“You--you did?” stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
+possibly have known her--and wanted her. “You--you did?” she repeated,
+trying to straighten her hat.
+
+“Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
+like,” cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
+embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. “And now I know, and
+I'm glad you look just like you do look.”
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+had been most confusing.
+
+“This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,” she stammered.
+
+“Yes, I have,” nodded Pollyanna, importantly. “I've got a brand-new one.
+The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet
+a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as half an
+aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
+get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here
+'tis,” she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had
+to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
+Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During
+the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+
+“There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride,”
+ sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. “Of course, if 'tisn't
+far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the
+sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty;
+father told me--”
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+lifting of her head.
+
+“Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
+explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red gingham
+dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think 'twas
+queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn, you know--on
+both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to
+buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought
+to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+course, but not the black part.”
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+“Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right.”
+
+“I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,” nodded Pollyanna, again with
+that choking little breath. “Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
+harder to be glad in black--”
+
+“Glad!” gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+“Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us,
+you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to--to do
+it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him, so; and I couldn't
+help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have
+God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the Ladies' Aid.
+But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm
+so glad I've got you!”
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her
+turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+“Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,” she faltered. “I'm
+only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!”
+
+“You--you AREN'T?” stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+“No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We--we
+ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!”
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+flash from his eyes.
+
+“But who ARE you?” questioned Pollyanna. “You don't look a bit like a
+Ladies' Aider!”
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+“I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an'
+hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.”
+
+“But there IS an Aunt Polly?” demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+“You bet your life there is,” cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then.” There was a moment's silence, then she
+went on brightly: “And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't
+come to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+besides.”
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+“I call that a pretty slick compliment,” he said. “Why don't you thank
+the little lady?”
+
+“I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly,” faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+“I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me.
+He said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.”
+
+“She does. You can see it now,” said Nancy.
+
+“It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.”
+
+“Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+Polly rich, Nancy?”
+
+“Yes, Miss.”
+
+“I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some rich. They
+have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+ice-cream Sundays?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+Timothy's eyes.
+
+“No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never
+saw it on her table.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's
+did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got
+the carpets, though.”
+
+“Yes, she's got the carpets.”
+
+“In every room?”
+
+“Well, in almost every room,” answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” exulted Pollyanna. “I love carpets. We didn't have
+any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one
+of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly
+beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some
+lambs and a lion--not together, you know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is,
+I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?”
+
+“I--I don't know,” answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+“I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father
+sold it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad
+it fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you
+know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used
+to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?” she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+“Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!”
+
+“Leave! I should say not,” grinned the youth.
+
+“You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!”
+
+“Fun!--fun!” repeated Nancy, indignantly, “I guess it'll be somethin'
+more than fun for that blessed child--when them two tries ter live
+tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!” she
+vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up
+from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with “duty” written large
+on every coldly extended finger.
+
+“How do you do, Pollyanna? I--” She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that
+you let me come to live with you,” she was sobbing. “You don't know how
+perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've
+had just the Ladies' Aid!”
+
+“Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+acquaintance,” rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the
+small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the
+doorway. “Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough,
+please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you
+look like.”
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+“No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows.
+I told Nancy how father said--”
+
+“Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,” interrupted Miss
+Polly, crisply. “You had a trunk, I presume?”
+
+“Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own, I
+mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them
+lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she
+thought I ought to have those. You see, father--”
+
+“Pollyanna,” interrupted her aunt again, sharply, “there is one thing
+that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I
+do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me.”
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--” She hesitated, and her aunt filled
+the pause.
+
+“We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may follow
+me, Pollyanna.”
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+
+“After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+father,” Pollyanna was thinking. “It'll be easier, maybe--if I don't
+talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+about him.” And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's “kindness,”
+ blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of
+picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace
+curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,” breathed the little girl, rapturously;
+“what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be
+you're so rich!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached
+the head of the stairs. “I'm surprised at you--making a speech like that
+to me!”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?” queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+
+“Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,”
+ declared the lady; “certainly not, of RICHES!”
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway
+door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room.
+Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from
+herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness
+would not destroy valuable furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of
+vanity showing thus early--it was all the more fortunate that the room
+planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that
+no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+was waiting now her room--the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her
+aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At
+the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners
+where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were
+stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too.
+Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it seemed so hard to
+breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+
+“There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see.
+Have you your key?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+“When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+not merely with your head.”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you
+need here,” she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+pitcher. “I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+o'clock,” she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking
+after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare
+floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that
+had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away
+Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on
+her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+“There, there, you poor lamb,” she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+drawing the little girl into her arms. “I was just a-fearin! I'd find
+you like this, like this.”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked,” she sobbed. “I just can't
+make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+than I did.”
+
+“No more they did, neither,” declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+“Oh-h!--NANCY!” The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+“There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,” she cried briskly.
+“Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+your dresses in no time, no time.”
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+“There aren't very many there, anyway,” she faltered.
+
+“Then they're all the sooner unpacked,” declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+“That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?” she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+“Why, of--course,” she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses.
+Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in
+the closet, stacking the books on the table, and putting away the
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?”
+ she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in
+the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully
+at the bare wall above.
+
+“And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.”
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her
+hands joyously.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,” she breathed. “Look--'way off
+there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody
+need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me
+have this room!”
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+“Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?” she cried; then, fearfully: “This
+wasn't--YOUR room, was it?”
+
+“My room!” stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. “If you ain't
+a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt
+before--Oh, land! there's her bell!” After which amazing speech, Nancy
+sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the
+stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her “picture,” as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her
+eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about
+the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed.
+Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery--against this window a
+huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms
+outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+“I believe I can do it,” she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+ground was--even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little
+fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her
+strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a
+bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an
+open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree
+stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there
+seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in--the top of that
+big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things,
+and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran through the open
+field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the
+bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+
+“Nancy,” she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+appeared; “my niece is late. No, you need not call her,” she added
+severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. “I told her what
+time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She
+may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down
+she may have bread and milk in the kitchen.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+“Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just cried
+herself to sleep,” she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open
+the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. “Where are you?
+Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?” she panted, looking in the
+closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,” she wailed. “She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me
+told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel
+food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!”
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+“Gone? Heaven?” he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. “Well, Nancy, it do look like as
+if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,”
+ he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined
+against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on
+top of a huge rock.
+
+“Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my
+say,” declared Nancy, doggedly. “If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,” she flung back over her
+shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+“For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,”
+ panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+regretfully slid.
+
+“Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they
+found I always came back all right.”
+
+“But I didn't even know you'd went,” cried Nancy, tucking the little
+girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. “I didn't see
+you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+do, I do.”
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+“I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.”
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+“You did--what?”
+
+“Came down the tree, outside my window.”
+
+“My stars and stockings!” gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. “I'd like ter
+know what yer aunt would say ter that!”
+
+“Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,” promised
+the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+“Mercy!” gasped Nancy. “No--no!”
+
+“Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!” cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+
+“No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about
+knowin' what she'd say, truly,” stammered Nancy, determined to keep one
+scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. “But, say, we better hurry.
+I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.”
+
+“I'll help,” promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna
+took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+“I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause
+then you came after me,” she shivered.
+
+“Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll
+have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't
+like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.”
+
+“But I couldn't. I was up here.”
+
+“Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!” observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. “I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.”
+
+“Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.”
+
+“Glad! Why?”
+
+“Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see
+any trouble about being glad about that.”
+
+“You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',”
+ retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's
+brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.”
+
+“The--GAME?”
+
+“Yes; the 'just being glad' game.”
+
+“Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?”
+
+“Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,” rejoined
+Pollyanna. “We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it--some of them.”
+
+“What is it? I ain't much on games, though.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+“Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.”
+
+“CRUTCHES!”
+
+“Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but
+when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in,
+but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in
+handy for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.”
+
+“Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,” declared
+Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+“Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be
+glad about--no matter what 'twas,” rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. “And
+we began right then--on the crutches.”
+
+“Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about--gettin' a
+pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There is--there is,” she crowed. “But _I_ couldn't see it, either,
+Nancy, at first,” she added, with quick honesty. “Father had to tell it
+to me.”
+
+“Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,” almost snapped Nancy.
+
+“Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!” exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. “You see it's just as easy--when you know how!”
+
+“Well, of all the queer doin's!” breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna
+with almost fearful eyes.
+
+“Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely,” maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. “And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's almost too
+hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't anybody but
+a Ladies' Aid left.”
+
+“Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+house with nothin' in it,” growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“That was a hard one, at first,” she admitted, “specially when I was so
+kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and
+I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I
+hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely
+picture out the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be
+glad about. You see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort
+of forget the other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know.”
+
+“Humph!” choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+“Most generally it doesn't take so long,” sighed Pollyanna; “and lots of
+times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it
+so much,” she faltered. “I suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder
+now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+play it, though,” she added, as an after-thought.
+
+“My stars and stockings!--HER!” breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then,
+aloud, she said doggedly: “See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin' that
+I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway; but
+I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I just will, I will!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. “That'll be
+splendid! Won't we have fun?”
+
+“Er--maybe,” conceded Nancy, in open doubt. “But you mustn't count too
+much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin' ter
+make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+ter play it with, anyhow,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you
+into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.”
+
+“But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.”
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+“Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day,
+and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see
+what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be
+careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See
+that you are down to that. Good-night.”
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+“I've had such a beautiful time, so far,” she sighed happily. “I know
+I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before
+I came. Good-night,” she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+
+“Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. “What a most
+extraordinary child!” Then she frowned. “She's 'glad' I punished her,
+and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with
+me! Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her
+book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed
+into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+“I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit
+now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be
+glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
+If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it
+would be easier!”
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work,
+jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+
+“If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches
+when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o'
+refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after
+her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not
+see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and
+she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt
+was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she
+made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+alive!”
+
+“PollyANNA!” remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect
+as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her
+neck. “Is this the usual way you say good morning?”
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+
+“No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from
+my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies'
+Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just
+had to come down and hug you!”
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+“Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+understand--about those rose-bushes,” she said stiffly. Then she turned
+and walked rapidly away.
+
+“Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?” asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as
+if with tears.
+
+“Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,” he answered. Timidly, but as if
+impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+it rest for a moment on her bright hair. “You are so like your mother,
+little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+You see, I used ter work in the garden--then.”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+“You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a little
+earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!” And
+down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's
+side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+the back door.
+
+“Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's,” she panted,
+pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+“and other times it means other meals. But it always means that
+you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye
+don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter
+be glad about in that!” she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house
+as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss
+Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies
+darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+“Nancy, where did those flies come from?”
+
+“I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.” Nancy had been
+too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+
+“I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,” observed Pollyanna,
+amiably. “There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+upstairs.”
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+“Yours!” gasped Miss Polly. “What do you mean? Where did they come
+from?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+windows. I SAW some of them come in.”
+
+“You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?”
+
+“Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.”
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was
+grave, but very red.
+
+“Nancy,” directed her mistress, sharply, “you may set the muffins down
+and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the
+doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every
+room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.”
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+“Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+forgotten YOUR duty.”
+
+“My--duty?” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+“Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I
+will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.”
+
+“To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!”
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+
+“Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,” she
+apologized timidly. “I won't raise the windows again.”
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out
+a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+
+“This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+things.”
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+magnified, cried joyously:
+
+“Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!” The next moment she skipped merrily from
+the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up
+the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why,
+I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet,
+and--”
+
+“That will do,” observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. “Pollyanna, you may
+bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.”
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned
+toward the closet.
+
+“I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did--and
+THEY said they were shameful,” she sighed. “But there were mostly things
+for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and--did you
+ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?”
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at
+once.
+
+“Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!” she hurried on, with a
+hot blush. “I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in this room, you
+know.”
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+hurrying on.
+
+“Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're going
+to--even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every time, too,
+that were hardest to play the game on, for father and--”
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+“They aren't nice, at all,” she choked, “and they'd been black if it
+hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've
+got.”
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+“I've got the best ones on,” confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. “The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to
+clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they
+won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says;
+but he's got money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the
+carpet--on account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad
+that if he did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?”
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+
+“You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home some,
+too.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr.
+Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
+Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each
+day.”
+
+“I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to
+read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+glad, either, for I like best to read to myself--on account of the big
+words, you know.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. “Have you studied
+music?”
+
+“Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+Polly. I'd rather, truly.”
+
+“Very likely,” observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+“Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am.” Pollyanna sighed. “The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I
+had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle
+like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought
+backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other
+way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever,
+at all.”
+
+“Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+presume.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+“They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't
+got far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
+They were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made
+it alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to
+take turns at me one forenoon a week--in their own kitchens, you know.
+I'd only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had
+to stop.” Her voice broke.
+
+“Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!” scorned Miss Polly. “I think
+we can remedy that very soon.” She paused in thought for a minute, then
+went on slowly: “At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you
+will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I
+shall, of course, procure a teacher at once for you,” she finished
+decisively, as she arose from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all
+just to--to live.”
+
+“To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the
+time!”
+
+“Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing the things you want
+to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing hills,
+talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all about
+the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+“Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if
+I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and
+instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that
+care and instruction are not ungratefully wasted.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I LOVE
+YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!”
+
+“Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,” vouchsafed Miss
+Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+after her:
+
+“Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted
+to--to give away.”
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town
+at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my
+niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you
+if I should let you appear out in any one of them.”
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please,” she called wistfully, “isn't there ANY way you can
+be glad about all that--duty business?”
+
+“What?” Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with
+very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. “Don't be
+impertinent, Pollyanna!”
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+of duty.
+
+“I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,” she
+sighed. “I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be
+glad about in all that duty business.”
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
+on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
+began to put away the dresses.
+
+“There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,” she said
+aloud; “unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!” Whereupon she
+laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
+from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
+the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
+last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
+a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
+it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
+keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
+herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
+she expressed it to one of the clerks: “When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
+lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
+that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!”
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
+a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
+very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
+miles away at “The Corners,” where lived her own dear mother, and her
+equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
+Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+
+“And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,” sighed
+Nancy. “They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
+hate 'Nancy'!”
+
+“Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?”
+
+“Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
+in 'em, then.”
+
+“But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,” declared Pollyanna.
+
+“Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,”
+ retorted Nancy, “and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+name's just grand!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow,” she chuckled, “you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'”
+
+“Hephzibah!”
+
+“Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just
+as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+like to be hurrahed at.”
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+“Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never
+hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My,
+I guess I AM glad--” She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the
+little girl. “Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that
+'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+“Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the
+times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots
+of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about,
+you know. And most generally there is something about everything that
+you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.”
+
+“Well, m-maybe,” granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet
+come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes
+Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise
+them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew
+out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way
+across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung
+a path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window.
+With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to
+the left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+silvery path, and on to the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to
+hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
+her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
+of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
+a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
+they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
+fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
+fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
+thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
+so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
+in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
+stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
+after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
+roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
+rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
+end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
+her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
+fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
+up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+“I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,” she murmured, blinking
+up at the stars; “else I couldn't have had this!”
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
+to Timothy:
+
+“Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis
+or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the
+east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here--but
+hurry, quick!”
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by
+a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes
+to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting
+through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean?” cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+“Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!” she stammered. “Don't look so scared! It
+isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so
+the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.”
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were gone; then she said
+sternly:
+
+“Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all
+the extraordinary children!” she ejaculated a little later, as, with
+Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into
+the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath
+of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long
+quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+“For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with
+me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my
+duty to keep you where I know where you are.”
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+“With you?--in your bed?” she cried rapturously. “Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt
+Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+didn't come! Wouldn't you be?”
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to
+tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna--and for the
+third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had
+at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied
+cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these
+things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time,
+also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she
+liked--provided she did not “like” to do certain things already
+prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to
+the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a relief to Aunt
+Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate “What an extraordinary
+child!” and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far
+away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's
+age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+“Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,” she explained to Nancy. “I'm happy
+just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the
+people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?”
+
+“Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em,” retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for “an errand
+to run,” so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or
+another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To
+herself Pollyanna always called him “the Man,” no matter if she met a
+dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two things
+that the “just men” never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather
+pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked
+erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna
+vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day
+spoke to him.
+
+“How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?” she called cheerily, as she
+approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+
+“Did you speak--to me?” he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+“Yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna. “I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+“'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,” she called
+out cheerfully.
+
+“Eh? Oh! Humph!” grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+the man stopped abruptly.
+
+“See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every
+day?”
+
+“I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your name yet.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on
+faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+smiling lips.
+
+“Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an introduction. I
+don't know HIS name, yet,” she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and
+a member of her church--it was the duty of all the church members
+to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow
+usually on Thursday afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy.
+To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given
+it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+“And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,” Nancy had declared in
+private afterwards to Pollyanna; “though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the
+job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!”
+
+“But I'd love to do it, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, you won't--after you've done it once,” predicted Nancy, sourly.
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a
+soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All
+is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.”
+
+“But, why, Nancy?”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened,
+has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't
+run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas
+Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted
+chicken--but if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for
+lamb broth!”
+
+“Why, what a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like
+to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and different. I love
+DIFFERENT folks.”
+
+“Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the sake
+of the rest of us!” Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at
+the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling,
+indeed, at the prospect of meeting this “different” Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+
+“How do you do?” began Pollyanna politely. “I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.”
+
+“Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,”
+ muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at
+the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+
+“How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.”
+
+“Dear me! Jelly?” murmured a fretful voice. “Of course I'm very much
+obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth to-day.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+“Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,”
+ she said.
+
+“What?” The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+“Why, nothing, much,” apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; “and of course
+it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+chicken--but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.”
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a most
+unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+
+“Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?” she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too! That
+would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's
+why I'm here with the jelly this morning.”
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on
+her pillow listlessly.
+
+“Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--” She
+stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. “I
+never slept a wink last night--not a wink!”
+
+“O dear, I wish _I_ didn't,” sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on the
+little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair. “You
+lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?”
+
+“Lose time--sleeping!” exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+“Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+can't live nights, too.”
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!” she cried. “Here! do you go
+to that window and pull up the curtain,” she directed. “I should like to
+know what you look like!”
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+“O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?” she sighed, as she
+went to the window; “--and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!” she broke off excitedly,
+as she turned back to the bed; “I'm so glad you wanted to see me,
+because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!”
+
+“Me!--pretty!” scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+“Why, yes. Didn't you know it?” cried Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, no, I didn't,” retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived
+forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy
+wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they
+were.
+
+“Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too,
+and curly,” cooed Pollyanna. “I love black curls. (That's one of the
+things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two
+little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I
+should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.”
+
+“The glass!” snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. “Yes,
+well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days--and you
+wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!”
+
+“Why, no, of course not,” agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. “But
+wait--just let me show you,” she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau
+and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+critical gaze.
+
+“I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+little before I let you see it,” she proposed. “May I fix your hair,
+please?”
+
+“Why, I--suppose so, if you want to,” permitted Mrs. Snow, grudgingly;
+“but 'twon't stay, you know.”
+
+“Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,” exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. “I sha'n't
+do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty
+you are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+lovely time with it,” she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or
+shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better
+pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly
+scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to
+tingle with a feeling perilously near to excitement.
+
+“There!” panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by
+and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect.
+“Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!” And she held out the mirror
+in triumph.
+
+“Humph!” grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. “I like
+red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+night, so what's the difference!”
+
+“But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,” laughed Pollyanna,
+“'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+hair fluffed out like that,” she finished with a satisfied gaze. “Don't
+you?”
+
+“Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the
+pillow as I do.”
+
+“Of course not--and I'm glad, too,” nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+“because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+like mine does.”
+
+“Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray too
+soon,” retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+mirror before her face.
+
+“Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,” sighed
+Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+“Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black
+hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day as I do!”
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+“Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?” she mused
+aloud.
+
+“Do what?”
+
+“Be glad about things.”
+
+“Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+should say it would,” retorted Mrs. Snow. “If you don't think so, just
+tell me something to be glad about; that's all!”
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come
+I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,” she
+called again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+
+“Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?” ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up
+the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+“That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,” she
+muttered under her breath. “I declare, I didn't know it could look so
+pretty. But then, what's the use?” she sighed, dropping the little glass
+into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+still lay among the bedclothes--thought it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+
+“Why, mother--the curtain is up!” cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare
+between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+
+“Well, what if it is?” snapped the sick woman. “I needn't stay in the
+dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?”
+
+“Why, n-no, of course not,” rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as
+she reached for the medicine bottle. “It's only--well, you know very
+well that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+wouldn't.”
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+“I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead of lamb
+broth, for a change!”
+
+“Why--mother!”
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer
+behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months
+had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+with a bright smile.
+
+“It isn't so nice to-day, is it?” she called blithesomely. “I'm glad it
+doesn't rain always, anyhow!”
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna
+decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore
+(which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She
+thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man
+was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the
+ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the
+glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a
+special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.
+
+“How do you do?” she chirped. “I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+you?”
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+“See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right
+now, once for all,” he began testily. “I've got something besides
+the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.”
+ Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+“No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.”
+
+“Yes; well--Eh? What?” he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding of
+her words.
+
+“I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you know--that
+the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you
+only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+thinking of it!”
+
+“Well, of all the--” ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.
+He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back,
+still frowning.
+
+“See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?”
+
+“I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still,
+I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.”
+
+“Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?” The
+man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still
+trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but that
+you're just as good, of course--maybe better,” she added in hurried
+politeness. “You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!”
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+“Well, of all the--” he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as
+before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight
+into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really
+pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+“Good afternoon,” he greeted her a little stiffly. “Perhaps I'd better
+say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.”
+
+“But you don't have to tell me,” nodded Pollyanna, brightly. “I KNEW you
+knew it just as soon as I saw you.”
+
+“Oh, you did, did you?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.”
+
+“Humph!” grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+first, though usually he said little but “good afternoon.” Even that,
+however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+one day when the greeting was given.
+
+“Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,” she gasped, “did that man SPEAK TO YOU?”
+
+“Why, yes, he always does--now,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?” demanded Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+“I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+introducing, but he didn't.”
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+“But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I guess,
+except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
+He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him--comes down ter the
+hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he
+wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time--only it'll be
+somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and
+I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally.
+We used to say how glad we were we liked beans--that is, we said it
+specially when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that
+was sixty cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?”
+
+“Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
+There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills,
+if he wanted to--and not know it.”
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+“As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+come to try to chew 'em!”
+
+“Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,” shrugged Nancy. “He ain't
+spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.”
+
+“Oh, for the heathen,” surmised Pollyanna. “How perfectly splendid!
+That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told
+me.”
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+something that prevented the words being spoken.
+
+“Humph!” she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on: “But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss
+Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great
+big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's
+crazy, and some jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his
+closet.”
+
+“Oh, Nancy!” shuddered Pollyanna. “How can he keep such a dreadful
+thing? I should think he'd throw it away!”
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead
+of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+correcting the mistake.
+
+“And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,” she went on. “Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.”
+
+“Oh, a missionary,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+“Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+money here--leastways, not for jest livin'.”
+
+“Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen,” declared Pollyanna.
+“But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs. Snow,
+only he's a different different.”
+
+“Well, I guess he is--rather,” chuckled Nancy.
+
+“I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,” sighed Pollyanna
+contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as
+at first, in a darkened room.
+
+“It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,” announced Milly, in a
+tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+
+“Oh, it's you, is it?” asked a fretful voice from the bed. “I remember
+you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you
+had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.”
+
+“Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+to-day is, then,” laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room,
+and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. “My! but aren't you
+dark here, though? I can't see you a bit,” she cried, unhesitatingly
+crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. “I want to see if
+you've fixed your hair like I did--oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm
+glad you haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later.
+But now I want you to see what I've brought you.”
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+“Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,”
+ she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket. “Well, what is
+it?”
+
+“Guess! What do you want?” Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+“Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,” she sighed. “After all, they
+all taste alike!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?”
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+what she DID want seemed impossible--until she knew what she had.
+Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+waiting.
+
+“Well, of course, there's lamb broth--”
+
+“I've got it!” crowed Pollyanna.
+
+“But that's what I DIDN'T want,” sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+her stomach craved. “It was chicken I wanted.”
+
+“Oh, I've got that, too,” chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+“Both of them?” she demanded.
+
+“Yes--and calf's-foot jelly,” triumphed Pollyanna. “I was just bound you
+should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+course, there's only a little of each--but there's some of all of 'em!
+I'm so glad you did want chicken,” she went on contentedly, as she
+lifted the three little bowls from her basket. “You see, I got to
+thinking on the way here--what if you should say tripe, or onions,
+or something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a
+shame--when I'd tried so hard?” she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally to find
+something she had lost.
+
+“There! I'm to leave them all,” announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+three bowls in a row on the table. “Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?” she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+“Very poorly, thank you,” murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her
+usual listless attitude. “I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins
+next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly
+wild. She was at it all the morning--every minute! I'm sure, I don't
+know what I shall do!”
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies' Aiders,
+you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+have. Can you?”
+
+“Can I--what?”
+
+“Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position when the
+music gets too hard to stand.”
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+“Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed,” she rejoined a little
+irritably.
+
+“Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?” nodded
+Pollyanna. “Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says.
+She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it
+hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being deaf, so.”
+
+“Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and she came to visit
+'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they had
+such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White
+felt so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she
+DID hear it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if
+she was deaf and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You
+see, she was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.”
+
+“The--game?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what you can
+be glad about.”
+
+“GLAD about! What do you mean?”
+
+“Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though you did have to
+lie here abed all day.”
+
+“Oh!” scoffed the woman. “THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't
+suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I was,” nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; “and I found it, too.
+But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard.
+And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for
+a while. Then I got it.”
+
+“Did you, really? Well, what is it?” Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know,” she announced impressively.
+Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+“Well, really!” she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+voice.
+
+“And now I'll tell you the game,” proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. “It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so hard. And
+there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.” And
+she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll
+that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+“Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,” she said with dreary
+listlessness. “She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to make up before
+dark.”
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+“All right,” she sighed. “I'll hurry.” Suddenly she laughed. “I suppose
+I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?”
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+cheeks.
+
+“Good-by,” flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+“I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+next time!”
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy;
+but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I should have
+failed signally in my duty.”
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but
+one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+“Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they
+should be just happy days?” she asked wistfully.
+
+“That is what I mean, Pollyanna.”
+
+“They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?”
+
+“Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to show
+for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!”
+
+“Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?” questioned Pollyanna, a
+little anxiously.
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you
+won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Game? What game?”
+
+“Why, that father--” Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+“N-nothing,” she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+“That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,” she said tersely. And the
+sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room,
+met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!” she cried. “You were coming up
+to see me! Come right in. I love company,” she finished, scampering up
+the stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself,
+not in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little
+room sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs--so many, many times
+since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+“I love company,” said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+dispensing the hospitality of a palace; “specially since I've had this
+room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas
+a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are
+they? And of course I do own this one, don't I?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,” murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+“And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--” With a painful
+blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+
+“What's that, Pollyanna?”
+
+“N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.”
+
+“Probably not,” returned Miss Polly, coldly; “but you did say it, so
+suppose we have the rest of it.”
+
+“But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course--”
+
+“PLANNING on them!” interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+“I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,” she apologized. “It was
+only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh,
+we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and
+one had ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those
+two pictures; the one fath--I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+wanted them, so--pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+here, and--and--but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I
+mean, a few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there couldn't
+be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've been so
+good to me, that--”
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” she said stiffly.
+
+“You have said quite enough, I'm sure.” The next minute she had swept
+down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor did it
+suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a
+white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+
+“Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there
+for the present.”
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” said Nancy aloud.
+
+“O glory!” said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+“And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter
+sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are--you are!”
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+“You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?”
+
+“I guess you'll think it's really and truly,” prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+had taken from the closet. “I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.”
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at
+a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her
+goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's
+got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides
+the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt
+Polly!”
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of
+course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will
+take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that
+chair; and you have banged two doors in the last half-minute.” Miss
+Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable
+reason, she felt inclined to cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling
+inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+“Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors,” she admitted cheerfully. “You
+see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+doors if--” Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new interest.
+“Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?”
+
+“I hope--not, Pollyanna!” Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!” Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+“A shame!” repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+“Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+ever glad over anything--or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't have
+helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!”
+
+“PollyANna!” gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the
+distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had
+gone to help Nancy bring down “her things.”
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but then, of
+course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some changes--none
+of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+
+“And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,” she told her
+aunt in happy confidence; “'cause I wanted to bring it home all the
+time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.”
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery
+in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats--not
+even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+“Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+all mangy and fleay.”
+
+“I know it, poor little thing,” crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking
+into the little creature's frightened eyes. “And it's all trembly, too,
+it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep
+it, of course.”
+
+“No--nor anybody else,” retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+
+“Oh, yes, they do,” nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her
+aunt's words. “I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find
+where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it--poor little lonesome
+thing!”
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+had her now fast in its grip.
+
+“Of course I knew,” hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, “that you wouldn't
+let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,” she nodded happily, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Miss Polly. “I don't--” But
+Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+“Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going
+to bring up along with me!” And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room--who
+abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay, powerless
+to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy--a role that
+Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+that the woman--who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+possible--found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small,
+ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss
+Polly did have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot
+jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of
+friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna
+had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow
+herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was
+not playing it very well--she had been sorry for everything for so long,
+that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning
+fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she
+was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what
+she had been wanting--she did not know that Milly, at the front door,
+had told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent
+over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+“Hullo,” smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+“Hullo yourself,” he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,” she
+chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was “used
+to Ladies' Aiders,” and “didn't mind,” she had sighed at times for some
+companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of
+this one.
+
+“My name's Pollyanna Whittier,” she began pleasantly. “What's yours?”
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+settled back.
+
+“Jimmy Bean,” he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+“Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some folks
+don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+live?”
+
+“Nowhere.”
+
+“Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere,” asserted
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.”
+
+“Oh! Where is it?”
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+“Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!”
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she
+did not like to be called “silly.” Still, he was somebody besides--old
+folks. “Where did you live--before?” she queried.
+
+“Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!” sighed the boy
+impatiently.
+
+“I have to be,” retorted Pollyanna calmly, “else I couldn't find out a
+thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.”
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+time.
+
+“All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old goin'
+on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but they've
+got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+somewheres else--but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a
+home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of
+a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks
+since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but--they
+didn't want me--though I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is
+that all you want ter know?” The boy's voice had broken a little over
+the last two sentences.
+
+“Why, what a shame!” sympathized Pollyanna. “And didn't there anybody
+want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after--after my
+father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until
+Aunt Polly said she'd take--” Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of
+a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+
+“Oh, I know just the place for you,” she cried. “Aunt Polly'll take
+you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy
+and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to
+go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take
+you! You don't know how good and kind she is!”
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+“Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!”
+ He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+“Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the
+world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's
+rooms--heaps of 'em,” she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging
+at his arm. “It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,” she added a little
+anxiously, as they hurried on, “maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic
+room. I did, at first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so
+hot, and the flies can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on
+their feet. Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll
+let you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And you've
+got freckles, too,”--with a critical glance--“so you'll be glad there
+isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any
+wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm
+sure,” panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of
+her breath for purposes other than talking.
+
+“Gorry!” exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added: “I shouldn't think anybody who could talk
+like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time
+with!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,” she retorted; “for when I'm
+talking, YOU don't have to!”
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” she triumphed, “just look a-here! I've got something
+ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up.
+It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at
+first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most
+of the time to play with, I reckon.”
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+she thought she understood enough.
+
+“Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+you find him?” she demanded sharply.
+
+The “dirty little boy” fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+“There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy is--just like Fluffy
+and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve all
+right by washing, just as they did, and--Oh, I 'most forgot again,” she
+broke off with a laugh. “This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Well, what is he doing here?”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!” Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+surprise. “He's for you. I brought him home--so he could live here, you
+know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.”
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+erect.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you
+must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who--”
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+fearlessly.
+
+“I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have
+come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me,
+a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter
+take me in. So, there!” And he wheeled about and stalked from the room
+with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly,” choked Pollyanna. “Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to
+have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The “good and kind” of the boy's
+words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was
+almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom
+of her will power.
+
+“Pollyanna,” she cried sharply, “WILL you stop using that everlasting
+word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning till night until I
+think I shall grow wild!”
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly,” she breathed, “I should think you'd be glad to have
+me gl--Oh!” she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+him.
+
+“Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am,” she
+panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+“Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,” retorted the boy, sullenly. “But I
+ain't no beggar!” he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+“Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,” appealed
+Pollyanna. “Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and
+I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and kind,
+really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do
+wish I could find some place for you, though!”
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+“Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you
+know.”
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+illumined.
+
+“Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them.
+That's what father always did, when he wanted anything--educating the
+heathen and new carpets, you know.”
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a Ladies'
+Aid?”
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+“Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know what a
+Ladies' Aid is!”
+
+“Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin',” grunted the boy, turning and
+beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+“It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give
+suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies' Aid is.
+They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven't
+seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going to tell
+them about you this afternoon.”
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+“Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear
+a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!”
+
+“Oh, but you wouldn't be there,” argued Pollyanna, quickly. “I'd go
+alone, of course, and tell them.”
+
+“You would?”
+
+“Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,” hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. “And there'd be some of
+'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home.”
+
+“I'd work--don't forget ter say that,” cautioned the boy.
+
+“Of course not,” promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point
+was gained. “Then I'll let you know to-morrow.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.”
+
+“All right. I'll be there.” The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+“Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see
+I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't leave till this
+mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+they'd pretend I couldn't come--though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+They don't CARE!”
+
+“I know,” nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. “But I'm sure, when
+I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care
+all ready for you. Good-by!” she called brightly, as she turned back
+toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a
+bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In
+her ears still was the boy's scornful “you was so good and kind.” In her
+heart was a curious sense of desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent
+meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried
+to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four
+times she was obliged to break off a “glad” in the middle of it, much
+to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved
+her head wearily.
+
+“There, there, child, say it, if you want to,” she sighed. “I'm sure I'd
+rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.”
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+“Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say it. You
+see I've played it so long.”
+
+“You've--what?” demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+“Played it--the game, you know, that father--” Pollyanna stopped with a
+painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies'
+Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry
+for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
+not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean
+before the Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called
+Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel
+next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+
+“I want them all to be there,” she said to herself; “else the very one
+that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy
+Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really--to
+Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel
+steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of
+feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a
+brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+Ladies' Aid.
+
+“How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?” she faltered politely. “I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU--only
+I don't know you all together this way.”
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+then.
+
+“I--I've come to--to lay the case before you,” stammered Pollyanna,
+after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's familiar
+phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+“Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?” asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's
+wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+“Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It
+was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father.”
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+“Yes, dear. What is it?”
+
+“Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean,” sighed Pollyanna. “He hasn't any home
+except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has
+a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him--to
+live with you, you know.”
+
+“Well, did you ever!” murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+“Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,” she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk
+among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was
+no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to
+think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who
+had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no
+one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's
+wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his
+support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year
+to the little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year.
+Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not
+have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at
+all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their
+society in a certain “report” “headed the list”--and of course that
+could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and
+not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she
+found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was very sorry,
+too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they
+would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than
+to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for
+which they would not get “a bit of credit in the report,” according to
+the tall lady who wore spectacles.
+
+“Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,” sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+as she trudged sorrowfully along. “But they acted as if little boys HERE
+weren't any account--only little boys 'way off. I should THINK, though,
+they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow--than just a report!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had
+been a hard day, for all it had been a “vacation one” (as she termed
+the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and
+Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a
+walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill,
+therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+“I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,” she was telling
+herself; “and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the
+woods, even if I do have to climb to get there.”
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+to-morrow.
+
+“I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud,” sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. “Anyhow, if they were up
+here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little
+boy, all right,” she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to
+give a reason for it, even to herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still
+barking.
+
+“Hullo, doggie--hullo!” Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly,
+but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was
+still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at
+once, whining and barking.
+
+“Ho! That isn't the way home,” laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth,
+between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining
+pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from
+his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal--so eloquent that at
+last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the
+side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,” snapped the
+man irritably. “See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have
+you got any sense?”
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day--they didn't know
+I heard, though.”
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+“There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen.” He paused, and with some difficulty
+reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of
+keys, singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. “Straight
+through the path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key
+will admit you to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know
+what a porte-cochere is?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof
+I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.”
+
+“Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk
+in the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to
+use a telephone?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Never mind Aunt Polly now,” cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+move himself a little.
+
+“Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+one!”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+names, and--”
+
+“Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle
+Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a
+stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to
+come by the path from the house.”
+
+“A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!” shuddered
+Pollyanna. “But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--”
+
+“Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+and stop talking,” moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now
+at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared
+verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she
+sped across the big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door
+under the porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon
+the keys, were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt
+in the lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she
+paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide,
+sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's
+house; the house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master
+entered; the house which sheltered, somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she,
+Pollyanna, was expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and
+telephone the doctor that the master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the
+hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold
+across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the
+fireplace, and touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in
+the middle of the room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly
+tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's
+to “Chilton.” In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end
+of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering
+the doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the
+receiver and drew a long breath of relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had
+left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+“Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?” he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+“Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,” she answered. “As if I'd be here
+if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as
+possible with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were,
+so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.”
+
+“Did you?” smiled the man, grimly. “Well, I can't say I admire your
+taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions.”
+
+“Do you mean--because you're so--cross?”
+
+“Thanks for your frankness. Yes.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!”
+
+“Indeed! How do you know that?” asked the man, trying to change the
+position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+“Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the dog,” she
+added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the dog's sleek
+head near him. “It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks
+better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your head,”
+ she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change
+was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+
+“Well, that is--better,” he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if
+his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself
+almost cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there
+so helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west
+and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she
+hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of
+her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost
+under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the
+motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he gave a
+short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna
+knew by sight as “Dr. Chilton”--advanced cheerily.
+
+“Well, my little lady, playing nurse?”
+
+“Oh, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “I've only held his head--I haven't
+given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.”
+
+“So am I,” nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+“Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,” she sighed in
+obvious relief. “It's half-past six!”
+
+“I know it,” admitted Pollyanna anxiously; “but I'm not to blame--truly
+I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.”
+
+“She won't have the chance,” retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+“She's gone.”
+
+“Gone!” gasped Pollyanna. “You don't mean that I've driven her away?”
+ Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories
+of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome
+“glad” and forbidden “father” that would spring to her forgetful little
+tongue. “Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?”
+
+“Not much you did,” scoffed Nancy. “Her cousin died suddenly down to
+Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three
+days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house
+tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?”
+
+“Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--”
+ Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. “Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+game,” she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+“I can't help it, Nancy,” she argued with a shake of her head. “It
+must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game
+on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral
+to be glad about.”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“We can be glad 'tain't our'n,” she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+himself.
+
+“Well, maybe 'tis natural,” he sighed. “Of course things you don't know
+about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way
+ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody
+over in India wanted ME?”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West--but
+that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+come all the way here as I did!”
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+“Do you think they would--truly--take me?” he asked.
+
+“Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring
+up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time.
+I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait.
+I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs.
+White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most--which is
+kind of funny, isn't it?--when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+Aiders will take you.”
+
+“All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,”
+ put in Jimmy. “I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with
+Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.” He hesitated, then added: “An' I s'pose I
+better stay where I be fur a spell yet--till you hear.”
+
+“Of course,” nodded Pollyanna emphatically. “Then I'll know just where
+to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far enough away for
+that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!” she broke off, suddenly, “DO you
+suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?”
+
+“Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,” grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+said to her aunt one morning:
+
+“Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow
+wouldn't--this once.”
+
+“Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?” sighed her aunt. “You ARE
+the most extraordinary child!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+“Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+can't be ORdinary, can you?”
+
+“You certainly can not.”
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,” sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. “You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs.
+Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+awful. They were always fight--I mean, father had--that is, I mean, WE
+had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between any of
+the rest of the Aiders,” corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from
+her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in
+regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+“Yes, yes; well, never mind,” interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. “You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're
+talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!”
+
+“Yes'm,” smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, “I reckon I do, maybe. But you
+see they used to bring me up, and--”
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna,” interrupted a cold voice. “Now what is it
+about this jelly?”
+
+“Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this once. You see,
+broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+after just once or twice.”
+
+“'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?”
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods,
+you know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and
+the doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came
+away and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs.
+Snow this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him
+instead of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?”
+
+“Yes, yes, I suppose so,” acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. “Who
+did you say he was?”
+
+“The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.”
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+“JOHN PENDLETON!”
+
+“Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+“Do YOU know him?”
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+“Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross OUTSIDE, you
+know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+in,” finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+
+“Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've
+changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as
+usual. That is all. You may go now.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I
+mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,”
+ said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; “but--I do not care to be sending
+jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.”
+
+“I know, he is cross--outside,” admitted Pollyanna, sadly, “so I suppose
+you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas
+me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.”
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped,
+and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+“Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?”
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+“I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never.”
+
+“Does he know where you--live?”
+
+“Oh, no. I never told him that.”
+
+“Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?”
+
+“I don't think so.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna
+with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+Polly roused herself with a start.
+
+“Very well, Pollyanna,” she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+unlike her own; “you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does
+not think I do!”
+
+“Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly,” exulted Pollyanna, as she flew
+through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when
+she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows
+were open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard,
+and the doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch
+of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but
+there was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the
+clothes opened the door.
+
+“If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,”
+ smiled Pollyanna.
+
+“Thank you,” said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+hand. “Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?”
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+forward.
+
+“Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?” he asked genially. “That will be fine!
+Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?”
+
+“Oh, yes, sir,” beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+“But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any one?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded the doctor, imperturbably. “But I'm giving orders
+now. I'll take the risk.” Then he added whimsically: “You don't know, of
+course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton
+this afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.”
+
+“Who is she?”
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+“She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients
+do--I'm thankful to say!”
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+“Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?”
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+“I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated
+to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor
+of most of them. All is,” he added, with another whimsical smile, as
+he stepped out on to the porch, “I wish I could prescribe her--and buy
+her--as I would a box of pills;--though if there gets to be many of
+her in the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and
+ditch-digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,”
+ he laughed, picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk,
+and not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in
+its proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+“If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+doctor said I was to--to bring her in.”
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+“See here, didn't I say--” began an angry voice. “Oh, it's you!” it
+broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+
+“Yes, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see,
+at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't
+going to see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might.
+Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?”
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he
+said was “Humph!”
+
+“And I've brought you some jelly,” resumed Pollyanna; “--calf's-foot. I
+hope you like it?” There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+
+“Never ate it.” The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but
+it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+“Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if
+you knew--”
+
+“Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that
+I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay
+here--till doomsday, I guess.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it
+will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than
+we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of course I believe the
+Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would
+if it should come now, and--”
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in at that
+moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very silent--retreat.
+He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath
+of cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+“Aren't you getting a little mixed?” asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+“Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones, you
+know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours won't
+last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of that.”
+
+“Oh, I am,” retorted the man grimly.
+
+“And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.” Pollyanna
+was warming to her task.
+
+“Of course! So fortunate,” sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+“looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't
+a centipede and didn't break fifty!”
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“Oh, that's the best yet,” she crowed. “I know what a centipede is;
+they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--”
+
+“Oh, of course,” interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+coming back to his voice; “I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I
+suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the
+kitchen!”
+
+“Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have them!”
+
+“Well, I--eh?” he demanded sharply.
+
+“Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em--and
+you lying here like this!”
+
+“As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+matter,” retorted the man, testily, “because I am lying here like
+this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who
+aids and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the
+doctor who eggs 'em both on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!”
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+“Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've been
+saving it, too, all this time.”
+
+“When--eh?”
+
+“Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+cents?”
+
+“Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?”
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+“About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for the
+heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one
+of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.”
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+“Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire who
+Nancy is?”
+
+“Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.”
+
+“Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?”
+
+“She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.”
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+“Miss--Polly--Harrington!” he breathed. “You live with--HER!”
+
+“Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know,” faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. “She was her
+sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of us in
+Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid;
+so she took me.”
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose uncertainly
+to her feet.
+
+“I reckon maybe I'd better go now,” she proposed. “I--I hope you'll
+like--the jelly.”
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a
+curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at
+which she marvelled.
+
+“And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece,” he said gently.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+“I--I suppose you know--her.”
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+“Oh, yes; I know her.” He hesitated, then went on, still with that
+curious smile. “But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it was Miss
+Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?” he said slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you
+think she did send it. But I--”
+
+“I thought as much,” vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The
+nurse stood on the steps.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?”
+ asked the doctor smilingly. “I started to drive on a few minutes ago;
+then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,” beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+“Do you?” smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young
+man on the steps. “Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many
+things you 'love' to do--eh?” he added, as they drove briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,” she admitted. “I like
+to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other
+things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+aren't LIVING.”
+
+“No? What are they, then?”
+
+“Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'” sighed Pollyanna, with a
+rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+“Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that.”
+
+“Yes,” responded Pollyanna. “But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.”
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+“After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl,” he said.
+Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at
+his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished,
+uneasily, that she could “do something.” It was this, perhaps, that
+caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+“Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+kind of a business there was.”
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+“'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?” he
+cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+“I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course you're
+glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us, all
+the time.”
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was
+a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room
+office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking
+now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been
+suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again
+would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without
+that new-found exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“God bless you, little girl,” he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: “And I'm thinking,
+after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+needed a draft of that tonic!” All of which puzzled Pollyanna very
+much--until a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter
+from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+“I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,” announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. “He's lovely, Nancy!”
+
+“Is he?”
+
+“Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+gladdest one there was.”
+
+“What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but thinks
+they is, which is worse?” Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+“Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad,
+even then. Guess!”
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this
+game of “being glad” quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+studying out Pollyanna's “posers,” too, as she called some of the little
+girl's questions.
+
+“Oh, I know,” she chuckled. “It's just the opposite from what you told
+Mis' Snow.”
+
+“Opposite?” repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+“Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like
+her--all sick, you know.”
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna.
+
+“Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks--the
+sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,” finished Nancy in triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+“Why, y-yes,” she admitted. “Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it. It
+isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but--You do play
+the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,” she sighed, as she went into the
+house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+“Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?”
+ questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?”
+
+“Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?”
+
+“He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and--”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+“Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?”
+
+“Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.”
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+“You TOLD him I didn't!”
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+voice.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!”
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+“I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different matter from
+TELLING him outright that I did not send it.” And she turned vexedly
+away.
+
+“Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,” sighed Pollyanna,
+as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by
+the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened
+pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+“Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,” she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+sitting room.
+
+“Got what, you impossible child?”
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+“And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
+mean,” she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
+above her ears. “But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
+can't hide the black part.”
+
+“Pollyanna, what does all this mean?” demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+
+“No, no--please, Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
+of distressed appeal. “Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
+about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
+pretty!”
+
+“Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?”
+
+“But it isn't nonsense,” urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
+her aunt's remarks. “You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
+like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+be ever so much prettier than she was!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
+because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+“loved” to see her “pretty”?) “Pollyanna, you did not answer my
+question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?”
+
+“Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
+and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
+I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
+you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
+as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
+let me do your hair, won't you?”
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
+upon her, she knew.
+
+“But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+them, I was so ashamed! I--”
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+“You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,” she crowed
+triumphantly; “and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
+sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
+didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
+wait just where you are. I'll get a comb.”
+
+“But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the
+little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+“Oh, did you come up here?” Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+Polly's own room. “That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit
+down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, I--I--”
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her
+hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle
+fingers.
+
+“Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,” prattled Pollyanna; “and there's
+so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need
+more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks
+can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it--and
+surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make
+you so pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!”
+
+“Pollyanna!” gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair.
+“I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.”
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to
+look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much
+happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other
+kind I'm so sorry for them.”
+
+“But--but--”
+
+“And I just love to do folks' hair,” purred Pollyanna, contentedly. “I
+did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there wasn't any of them so
+nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked
+just lovely one day when I dressed her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell.
+Now your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you
+just a minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!” she finished, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+hair up properly again. As for “peeking” just as if she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in
+the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a flush of
+rosy color to her cheeks that--she only flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay
+in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the ears in
+wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+
+“Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?” she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+“That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.”
+
+“But, Pollyanna,” began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, “you
+must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you doing?” she gasped,
+as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she
+was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful
+lace shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+should not be “dressed up.”
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled
+her aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose
+blooming on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+
+“Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?” recoiled
+Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. “Pollyanna, I shall
+not--”
+
+“It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time,” panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and
+thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. “There!”
+ she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit
+of linen far from her. “Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I
+dressed you up!”
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through
+the open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+she leaned forward.
+
+“Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.”
+
+“Yes,” smiled the doctor, a little gravely. “Will you come down,
+please?”
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+“Pollyanna, how could you?” moaned the woman. “To think of your rigging
+me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!”
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+“But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--”
+
+“'Lovely'!” scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!”
+
+“Stay? Like this? As if I would!” And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+fingers.
+
+“O dear! And you did look so pretty,” almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+“I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled,” announced the doctor. “Will you go?”
+
+“You mean--an errand--to the drug store?” asked Pollyanna, a little
+uncertainly. “I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders.”
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+“Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day,
+if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down
+after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before
+six o'clock.”
+
+“I'd love to!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober
+face.
+
+“Didn't--your aunt want you to go?” asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+“Y-yes,” sighed Pollyanna. “She--she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+afraid.”
+
+“Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!”
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+“Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone before.'”
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For
+some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+“Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the window of
+the sun parlor?”
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+“Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed
+her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed
+her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think
+she looked just lovely?”
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was
+so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+“Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely.”
+
+“Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,” nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+“Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+her--that.”
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--”
+
+“But she might not be,” cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+“That's so--maybe she wouldn't,” she sighed. “I remember now; 'twas
+'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke afterwards about her
+being seen in that rig.”
+
+“I thought as much,” declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+“Still, I don't see why,” maintained Pollyanna, “--when she looked so
+pretty!”
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they
+were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a
+broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. “JUST LIKE A BOOK”
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+“Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.”
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see
+why I shouldn't be, either.”
+
+“Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when
+you found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't
+think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would
+admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such
+ungrateful treatment as that!”
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+“But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad your leg
+was broken, of course,” she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+“I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while,
+doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you
+a very brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for
+the jelly, too,” he added in a lighter voice.
+
+“Did you like it?” asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+“Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that Aunt Polly
+DIDN'T send, is there?” he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+“N-no, sir.” She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. “Please,
+Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+Polly did NOT send the jelly.”
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and
+turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous
+fretfulness.
+
+“Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see
+me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room where the
+telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of
+the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated'
+it to somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too
+heavy for you to carry, I think.”
+
+“Oh, I'm awfully strong,” declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang
+to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was
+full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+travel--and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether
+it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little
+jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+murmured wistfully:
+
+“Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to
+bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in
+that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.”
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself,
+and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides
+the wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking
+of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western
+town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+“Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going to tell
+you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were,
+the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded
+me of--of something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said
+to myself that I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the
+doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+
+“But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that--that
+the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+Will you--little girl?”
+
+“Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,” breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. “I'd
+love to come!”
+
+“Thank you,” said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+more wonderful things it contained.
+
+“And ter think,” sighed Nancy, “that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he never talks ter no
+one--no one!”
+
+“Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,” demurred Pollyanna, with
+quick loyalty. “I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either.
+They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him
+very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so
+afraid he'd think she did send it!”
+
+“Probably she didn't call him no duty,” shrugged Nancy. “But what beats
+me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna--meanin' no
+offence ter you, of course--but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally
+takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+“But he did, Nancy,” she nodded, “only I reckon even he didn't want
+to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he
+just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of
+something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--”
+
+“What's that?” interrupted Nancy, excitedly. “He said you reminded him
+of something he wanted to forget?”
+
+“Yes. But afterwards--”
+
+“What was it?” Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+“He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.”
+
+“THE MYSTERY!” breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. “That's why he
+took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just
+like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em had mysteries and things just
+like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+tell me everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!”
+
+“But he didn't,” cried Pollyanna, “not till _I_ talked to HIM, first.
+And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and--”
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+“Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!” she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again.
+“Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true,” she urged excitedly.
+“It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+to-day.”
+
+“I thought as much,” triumphed Nancy. “And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+jelly herself, would she?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“And you told him she didn't send it?”
+
+“Why, yes; I--”
+
+“And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you
+was her niece. He did that, didn't he?”
+
+“Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly,” admitted
+Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+“Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+HARRINGTON'S LOVER!” she announced impressively, but with a furtive
+glance over her shoulder.
+
+“Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,” objected Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+“Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!”
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+“It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had
+had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a lover! But
+Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in
+his life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never
+speak ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss
+Polly's niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of
+somethin' he wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas
+Miss Polly!--an' her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why,
+Miss Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!”
+
+“Oh-h!” breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. “But, Nancy, I
+should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both
+of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to
+make up!”
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+“I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You
+ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the
+world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n,
+it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he
+cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't she--”
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about
+whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+“I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it--so they
+WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some--Miss
+Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!”
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her
+visits were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her
+there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was
+there, he seemed scarcely any the happier for her presence--at least, so
+Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+and “regulatings” of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she was never sure that she would
+not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt
+look that always pained her; and she was never sure which--if any--of
+her words had brought it there. As for telling him the “glad game,” and
+trying to get him to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when
+she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
+her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
+conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
+she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
+mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
+to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
+sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
+stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
+tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
+would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
+about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
+the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
+with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
+Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
+Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+“If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,” Aunt Polly
+said.
+
+“Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,” gurgled Pollyanna. “I'd love to
+have Dr. Chilton come to see me!”
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+“It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,” Miss Polly said sternly. “Dr.
+Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
+are worse.”
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+
+“And I'm so glad, too,” Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. “Of
+course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
+and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
+really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
+you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,” she finished wistfully.
+
+“That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings,” reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
+then she sighed:
+
+“I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt Polly!” But her aunt
+was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and
+green edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped
+short in awed delight.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in to
+pay you a visit!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly.
+“Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?” she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+sorts with the world this morning.
+
+“Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+thermometer in the window,” he said wearily. “The sun shouldn't strike
+it at all but it does in the morning.”
+
+“Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that?
+My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!”
+
+“Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,” laughed the man.
+“How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was,
+if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?”
+
+“I shouldn't care,” breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+brilliant band of colors across the pillow. “Just as if anybody'd care
+when they were living all the time in a rainbow!”
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at
+his side.
+
+“Nora,” he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, “bring
+me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front
+drawing-room.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute
+she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she
+advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants
+encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+
+“Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,” directed the man. “Now
+get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window
+there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight
+across the window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,” he
+said, when she had carried out his directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+“Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.”
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by
+side, on the bed.
+
+“Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow--I
+don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!”
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up
+the rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a
+low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed
+itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+“Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!” breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+“I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't
+you?” she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not
+know what she was talking about. “Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those
+things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow
+and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think
+even Aunt Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she
+lived in a rainbow like that. Don't you?”
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+“Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight
+to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come, now, really,
+what do you mean?”
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.”
+
+“Suppose you tell me, then.”
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from
+the very first--from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+window.
+
+“And that's all,” she sighed, when she had finished. “And now you know
+why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game.”
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+unsteadily:
+
+“Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+yourself, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!”
+
+“Don't you?” smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+“No,” she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: “I'm afraid,
+Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
+Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!”
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
+had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
+were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
+confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
+her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
+old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
+course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
+of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+“See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?” he
+asked, a little impatiently. “I don't see anything of you, nowadays.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+“I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,” she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+“Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
+be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
+around,” he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
+shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
+library to-day.
+
+“Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
+are,” pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
+“You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
+you don't!”
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+“That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?”
+
+“But I do. I want you. Will you come?”
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!”
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+“You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me,” he
+finished more gently. “Would you come--if she did?”
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+“But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me,” she began slowly; “and she
+took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--”
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time,
+when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+“Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in
+our home all the long years to come.”
+
+“Yes,” pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+“But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been
+a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+you come, my dear?”
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?”
+
+“Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,” sighed the little girl. “Now you
+can take us both, and everything will be lovely.”
+
+“Take--you--both?” repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+“Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will
+be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come,
+of course.”
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+“Aunt Polly come--HERE!”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+“Would you rather go THERE?” she asked. “Of course the house isn't quite
+so pretty, but it's nearer--”
+
+“Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?” asked the man, very gently now.
+
+“Why, about where we're going to live, of course,” rejoined Pollyanna,
+in obvious surprise. “I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it
+was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years
+to make a home, and--”
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at
+his side.
+
+“The doctor, sir,” said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+“Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you--yet,” he
+begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+
+“Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!” she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+“Why, what's up?” demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on
+his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+“Overdose of your--tonic, I guess,” he laughed, as he noted the doctor's
+eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook
+her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+
+“Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,” he suggested. “I want
+to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to
+tell you,” he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.
+“Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this
+afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+“Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.”
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+“I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,” he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. “You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+lady.”
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+“Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it was
+Aunt Polly.”
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+“Your--aunt!” he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+“Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.
+I--I'm going to tell you,” she burst out, with sudden decision. “He
+said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He
+meant not to mention it to HER.”
+
+“HER?”
+
+“Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself
+instead of having me do it--lovers, so!”
+
+“Lovers!” As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as
+if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+
+“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna, happily. “That's the story-part, you see. I
+didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.”
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to
+his lap.
+
+“Oh! No; I--didn't know,” he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+“Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked
+me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly
+like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about
+the woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up
+the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will
+both go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course
+Aunt Polly doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.”
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+
+“Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to see you,
+Pollyanna,” he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.
+
+“There's Aunt Polly now in the window,” cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+later: “Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!”
+
+“No; she isn't there--now,” said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost
+their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+afternoon.
+
+“Pollyanna,” he began at once. “I've been trying all night to puzzle
+out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my wanting your Aunt
+Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?”
+
+“Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you
+still felt that way now.”
+
+“Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?”
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+eyes.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!”
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+“Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't know.”
+
+“Then you--weren't lovers?” Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+
+“Never!”
+
+“And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?”
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+
+“O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,” almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+“I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly.”
+
+“And you won't--now?” The man asked the question without turning his
+head.
+
+“Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.”
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+“Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's. And--it was
+your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.”
+
+“My mother's!”
+
+“Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+that I do--now.” John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He
+was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and
+frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. “I loved
+your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after a time she went away
+with--your father. I did not know until then how much I did--care. The
+whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and--But,
+never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable,
+unloved old man--though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then,
+One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you
+danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
+purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never wanted to
+see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your mother. But--you
+know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you
+always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?”
+
+“But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!” Pollyanna's eyes were
+blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+“What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that
+I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little
+girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make you glad, too, my
+dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last
+cent, should go to make you happy.”
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that money
+you've saved for the heathen!”
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna
+was still talking.
+
+“Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me
+to make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving
+them things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look
+at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
+Nancy on her birthday, and--”
+
+“Yes, yes--never mind about all that,” interrupted the man. His face
+was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for “giving
+things” that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. “That's all
+nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what there was, was because of you.
+YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,” he repeated, in answer to
+the shocked denial in her face. “And that only goes to prove all the
+more how I need you, little girl,” he added, his voice softening into
+tender pleading once more. “If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.”
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+“Aunt Polly has been so good to me,” she began; but the man interrupted
+her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's
+nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+
+“Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do,” he contested.
+
+“Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--”
+
+“Glad!” interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. “I'll
+wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything! Oh, she does
+her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience with
+her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of friends
+for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one knows
+her--and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to
+be. As for your coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let
+you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!” he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+“All right. I'll ask her,” she said wistfully. “Of course I don't mean
+that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but--” She
+did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+added: “Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;--'cause then
+I supposed SHE was wanted, too.”
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+“Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention
+it--yesterday.”
+
+“I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.”
+
+“The doctor!” cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+“Not--Dr.--Chilton?”
+
+“Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.”
+
+“Well, of all the--” muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then
+he sat up with sudden interest. “And what did Dr. Chilton say?” he
+asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+imagine you did want to see me.”
+
+“Oh, did he, indeed!” answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered
+why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching
+thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John
+Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that
+time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was
+not so imminent.
+
+“Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,” announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+critically. “I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Was she?” murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her
+turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+“You don't seem ter notice what I said,” she observed aggrievedly. “I
+said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so
+soon to ask her aunt. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.”
+
+“Well, I'm glad,” retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. “I am, I am.”
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+“GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the
+way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!” she objected.
+
+“There wa'n't no game in it,” retorted Nancy. “Never thought of it. YOU
+don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+child!”
+
+“Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel,” maintained
+Pollyanna. “What else can it mean?”
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+“Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+duty by ye all the time.”
+
+“Why, Nancy,” demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, “Aunt Polly always
+does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!” Unconsciously Pollyanna
+repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's somethin'
+more, now, since you came.”
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+“There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,” she sighed. “Do you
+think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind--if if I wasn't
+here any more?”
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded
+it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how she could answer it
+honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in
+the face of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the
+afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy only welcomed the question with open
+arms. She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set
+the love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+
+“Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?” cried
+Nancy, indignantly. “As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+remember how at first she hated ter have--”
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+“And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,” rushed on
+Nancy, breathlessly. “It's little ways she has, that shows how you've
+been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down--the cat, and the dog, and
+the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here,” finished
+Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide
+the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was not
+quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am that
+Aunt Polly--wants me!”
+
+“As if I'd leave her now!” thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs
+to her room a little later. “I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt
+Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt
+Polly--to want to live with ME!”
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an
+easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because he seemed to be so
+sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that
+had made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of
+her mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great
+gray house as it would be after its master was well again, with its
+silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart
+ached for his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be
+found who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog
+at his feet.
+
+“Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of
+my life?” asked the man, gently.
+
+“Oh, yes,” cried Pollyanna. “I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+thing for you to do, and--”
+
+“With--YOU?” asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern at
+the corners.
+
+“N-no; but--”
+
+“Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!” interrupted a voice deep with
+emotion.
+
+“I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--”
+
+“Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?”
+
+“I--I didn't ask her,” stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved
+gaze of her friend.
+
+“So you didn't even ask her!”
+
+“I couldn't, sir--truly,” faltered Pollyanna. “You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I want to
+stay, too,” she confessed bravely. “You don't know how good she's been
+to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad
+about things--lots of things. And you know she never used to be. You
+said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+“No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now,” he said. “I won't
+ask you--again.” The last word was so low it was almost inaudible; but
+Pollyanna heard.
+
+“Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,” she reminded him eagerly.
+“There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there is!”
+
+“Not for me, Pollyanna.”
+
+“Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for
+you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another one.”
+
+“As if I would have any but you!” resented an indignant voice.
+
+“But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of the
+prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the heathen,
+and--”
+
+“Pollyanna!” interrupted the man, savagely. “Once for all let us end
+that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There
+is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life.
+There!”
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected--the
+grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There
+was only surprised joy.
+
+“Oh, oh!” she cried, clapping her hands. “I'm so glad! That is,” she
+corrected, coloring distressfully, “I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want
+the little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm
+glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!”
+
+“Take--WHO?”
+
+“Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now--when he hears of
+this--he'll be so glad!”
+
+“Will he? Well, I won't,” ejaculated the man, decisively. “Pollyanna,
+this is sheer nonsense!”
+
+“You don't mean--you won't take him?”
+
+“I certainly do mean just that.”
+
+“But he'd be a lovely child's presence,” faltered Pollyanna. She was
+almost crying now. “And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy 'round.”
+
+“I don't doubt it,” rejoined the man; “but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness.”
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+“Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!”
+
+“SKELETON?”
+
+“Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.”
+
+“Why, what--” Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+“Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know,” he said
+gently. “In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we aren't always willing
+to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to--our skeletons,
+Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about this nice
+little boy.” And Pollyanna told him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night
+she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the
+great house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+
+“And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,” sighed Pollyanna, as
+she said good-by. “I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home--and folks
+that care, you know.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+His children of men had wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse;
+until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had
+prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own
+that matters were no better, but rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most
+energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society
+because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a
+devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo
+work given to a fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor
+Society was in a ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its
+officers. As to the Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its
+superintendent and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and
+that had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done--and
+done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True,
+a few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+(God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+suffering; and must suffer still more unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled
+into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on
+which he had determined to speak:
+
+“'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut
+up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves,
+neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall
+receive the greater damnation.'
+
+“'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+leave the other undone.'”
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it? Dare
+he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words that
+would follow--his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had pleaded
+earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed--oh, how earnestly he
+longed!--to take now, in this crisis, the right step. But was this--the
+right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down
+at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+“Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or anything,
+have you?” she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to
+smile.
+
+“No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting.”
+
+“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. “That's all right, then.
+You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him--but he was
+lying down, though. And you are sitting up.”
+
+“Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that doctors can
+mend.”
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+“I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel like
+that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally. You see
+there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+“Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.”
+
+“Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+don't know all the family histories.”
+
+“Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled
+some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at
+them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance
+away--and it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead.
+Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+
+“It--it's a nice day,” she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+start.
+
+“What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day.”
+
+“And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,” observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. “Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said
+he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires,
+don't you?”
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+she tried again--by a new route.
+
+“Do You like being a minister?”
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+“Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?”
+
+“Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+used to look like that--sometimes.”
+
+“Did he?” The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+“Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+minister.”
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Well--what did he say?”
+
+“Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too,
+that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing
+texts.”
+
+“The--WHAT?” The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+“Well, that's what father used to call 'em,” she laughed. “Of course the
+Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in
+the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that,
+you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he
+counted 'em. There were eight hundred of 'em.”
+
+“Eight hundred!”
+
+“Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why father
+named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'”
+
+“Oh!” There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen
+to the words on the top paper in his hands--“But woe unto you, scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!” “And so your father--liked those 'rejoicing
+texts,'” he murmured.
+
+“Oh, yes,” nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. “He said he felt better right
+away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+want us to do it--SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done it
+more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when
+they DIDN'T AGREE about something,” corrected Pollyanna, hastily.
+“Why, it was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the
+game--he began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it.”
+
+“And what game might that be?” asked the minister.
+
+“About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As
+I said, he began with me on the crutches.” And once more Pollyanna
+told her story--this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister
+wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking.
+Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper--his sermon notes.
+Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper,
+blank--his sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of
+what he had written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination
+he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister
+who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was
+poring over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to “rejoice and be glad.”
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under
+his hand.
+
+“Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23,” he wrote; then, with a gesture of
+impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+
+“A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to
+fill his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to
+go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went.
+Why? Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to
+do the right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said
+to your mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill
+that woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as
+Tom was concerned!”
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+somewhere else:
+
+“What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting
+powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always
+harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out
+of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL
+self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful,
+helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole
+town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If
+a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too,
+before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his neighbors
+will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for
+the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the
+good--you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to
+fill that woodbox--then watch him start, alert and interested!”
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was
+on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth.
+Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in
+the chair at his desk.
+
+“God helping me, I'll do it!” he cried softly. “I'll tell all my Toms
+I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do,
+and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't
+have TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!” And he picked up his
+sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him,
+so that on one side of his chair lay “But woe unto you,” and on the
+other, “scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” while across the smooth
+white paper before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one
+black line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23.
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was
+a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and
+child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight
+hundred:
+
+“Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+that are upright in heart.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office
+to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it
+chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's
+office.
+
+“I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?” she
+said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+“Yes--such as 'tis,” he answered, as he wrote something on the pad
+of paper in his hand; “but it's a pretty poor apology for a home,
+Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home.”
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+understanding.
+
+“I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to
+make a home,” she said.
+
+“Eh?” The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman's
+hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a
+woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean--if
+Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him.”
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+does he?” he asked evasively.
+
+“Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?”
+
+“Why don't I--what?” The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+“Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot.” Pollyanna's face
+showed suddenly a painful color. “I suppose I ought to tell you. It
+wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we--we
+aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was--but I made a
+mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,” she finished anxiously.
+
+“No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor, a little
+queerly.
+
+“Oh, that's all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “You see
+you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of
+funny when I said I'd told YOU.”
+
+“Did he?” The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+“Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+Chilton?”
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+“They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl.”
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+“But I should think you could get 'em,” she argued. The flattering
+emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+“Thank you,” laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+again: “I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite
+so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown themselves to be
+so--obliging,” he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+“Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get somebody's hand
+and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and couldn't, did you?”
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now
+to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the
+directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured soberly, as she turned toward
+the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly
+alight: “Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you
+wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!”
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe
+distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was
+there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame
+that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp
+and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by
+a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly
+and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone,
+Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+“And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,” Nancy was
+sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was
+closeted in the hushed room; “ye didn't need ter more'n look at her
+aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands
+don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back
+the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom
+they don't, they don't!”
+
+“Is she hurt--bad?” The old man's voice shook.
+
+“There ain't no tellin',” sobbed Nancy. “She lay back that white an'
+still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead--an'
+Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept up such a
+listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!”
+
+“Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--” Old Tom's
+face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+“I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an'
+strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I
+always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I did, I did!”
+
+“But where is she hurt?”
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy. “There's a little cut on
+her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly says. She says
+she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.”
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+“I guess you mean internally, Nancy,” he said dryly. “She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't guess
+Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.”
+
+“Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy, with a shake of
+her head as she turned away. “Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it
+till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do--the
+biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!” she wailed, wringing her hands
+helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After
+he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn
+looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness,
+but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be
+expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night.
+That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+eyes and realized where she was.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,” she moaned, falling
+back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+
+“No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet,” soothed her aunt quickly, but very
+quietly.
+
+“But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?”
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+“Tell her,” the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+scarcely let her speak.
+
+“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”
+
+“Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran.” Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her
+hand to her forehead. “Why, it's--done up, and it--hurts!”
+
+“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest.”
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so--so
+queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!”
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to
+her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+
+“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I'm sure
+I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+swallow these little white pills for me.”
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+“But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I want to
+get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?”
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled
+cry.
+
+“To-morrow?” smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+“Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna.
+But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what
+THEY'LL do.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; “but I MUST go to
+school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then, you know.”
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she
+had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school “to-morrow,” nor the “day after
+to-morrow.” Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily
+when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to
+her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly
+until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened
+somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be
+told all over again what had occurred.
+
+“And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,” she sighed at last. “Well,
+I'm glad of that.”
+
+“G-glad, Pollyanna?” asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+“Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+lifelong-invalids don't.”
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her
+face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+“I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,” she murmured
+contentedly. “That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't
+whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm glad 'tisn't
+appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're catching--measles are, I
+mean--and they wouldn't let you stay here.”
+
+“You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear,” faltered Aunt
+Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+“I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've been
+looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr. Pendleton
+gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said yet. I
+don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.”
+
+“Pollyanna!”
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+“Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+times--and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'--by folks that
+belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me that; and
+of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged
+to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!”
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes
+were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room
+through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,” she panted. “You couldn't
+guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!”
+
+“Then I cal'late I won't try,” retorted the man, grimly, “specially as
+I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+first off, Nancy.”
+
+“Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+mistress? Who, I say?”
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+“There's no tellin',” he declared.
+
+“Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!”
+
+“Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.”
+
+“Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all! An'
+the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him, jest as
+if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter no
+one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on HER!”
+
+“Well, why not?” demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+“As if you didn't know better'n me!” she derided.
+
+“Eh?”
+
+“Oh, you needn't be so innercent,” she retorted with mock indignation;
+“--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!”
+
+“What do ye mean?”
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a
+step nearer to the old man.
+
+“Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the
+first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and
+I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five--an'
+no four at all, at all!”
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+“If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense,” he declared testily. “I never was no hand for figgers.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, it's this,” she explained. “I heard somethin' that made me think
+him an' Miss Polly was lovers.”
+
+“MR. PENDLETON!” Old Tom straightened up.
+
+“Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he
+was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never mind that part,”
+ she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna
+not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+“Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's
+been hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their
+names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.”
+
+“Yes, I remember,” nodded Old Tom. “It was three or four years after
+Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss
+Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter
+be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a little--she hated that minister
+chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter
+make trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.”
+
+“Runnin' after any man--her!” interjected Nancy.
+
+“I know it; but they did,” declared Old Tom, “and of course no gal of
+any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an'
+the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't
+have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to
+turn bitter at the core.”
+
+“Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,” rejoined Nancy; “an' that's
+why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the
+door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went
+an' told her.”
+
+“What did she say?” Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+“Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and I
+was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+out here an' told you,” finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+toward the house.
+
+“Humph!” grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious “parlor” of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of
+Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was
+coldly reserved.
+
+“I called to ask for--Pollyanna,” he began at once, a little brusquely.
+
+“Thank you. She is about the same,” said Miss Polly.
+
+“And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?” His voice was not quite
+steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+“I can't, I wish I could!”
+
+“You mean--you don't know?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But--the doctor?”
+
+“Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.”
+
+“But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?”
+
+“A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury to the
+spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips down.”
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily,
+he asked:
+
+“And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?”
+
+“She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I CAN'T tell
+her.”
+
+“But she must know--something!”
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture
+that had become so common to her of late.
+
+“Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+the other--doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it--it seems
+as if I should--die!”
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back
+to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her
+presence: “Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!”
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+control his voice:
+
+“I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me.”
+
+“With YOU!--Pollyanna!”
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+“Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her my
+heir, of course.”
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to
+her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough
+and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+
+“I am very fond of Pollyanna,” the man was continuing. “I am fond of
+her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood ready to give
+Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.”
+
+“LOVE.” Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child
+in the first place--and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: “I love to be called
+'dear' by folks that belong to you!” And it was this love-hungry little
+girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five
+years:--and she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking
+heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized
+something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+“Well?” she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+“She would not come,” he answered.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She
+wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to
+stay,” he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+“When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,” said a trembling voice.
+“Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
+the specialist.
+
+“Pollyanna, my dear,” she began gently, “we have decided that we want
+another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know.”
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+“Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
+wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
+seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!”
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+“Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
+about--about hurts like yours.”
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+“I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.”
+
+“But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+Chilton--truly I would!”
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
+stern decisiveness:
+
+“But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
+anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
+speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
+believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
+great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.”
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+“But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--”
+
+“WHAT, Pollyanna?” Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
+were very red, too.
+
+“I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,” sighed
+Pollyanna, “seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.”
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
+feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+“I am very sorry, Pollyanna,” she said, a little stiffly; “but I'm
+afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
+already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.”
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come “to-morrow.”
+ At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
+the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--“which would be so
+easy now, you know.”
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said “no, dear,” very
+decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+niece.
+
+“I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,” Nancy
+said to Old Tom one morning. “There don't seem ter be a minute in the
+day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
+what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+Miss Pollyanna!
+
+“An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
+the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
+down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
+besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
+didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
+hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
+all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
+wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
+child!”
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+“Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,” he observed
+dryly.
+
+“'Course she ain't,” retorted Nancy, indignantly. “She looks like
+FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--”
+
+“Keerful, now, Nancy!” interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. “You
+know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.”
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
+like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
+Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck.”
+
+“I told ye so,” nodded the man. “I told ye she wa'n't--old.”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
+she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!”
+
+“Hain't ye?” asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. “Well, I
+guess ye won't then from me.”
+
+“Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,” wheedled the girl. “Ye see, there ain't
+many folks here that I CAN ask.”
+
+“Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',” grinned
+Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. “How is she,
+ter-day--the little gal?”
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+“Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
+see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
+an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
+or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
+achin'.”
+
+“I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!” nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+“She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?”
+
+“Oh, yes. She told me long ago.” The old man hesitated, then went on,
+his lips twitching a little. “I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
+bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?”
+
+“I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
+ter be glad about!”
+
+“She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.”
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+“Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
+'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
+speak of--her aunt.”
+
+“MISS POLLY!”
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+“I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+than I have,” she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+“I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her,” he
+explained with dignity.
+
+“Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN,” retorted Nancy. “I ain't sayin'
+what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
+she'd take ter playin' it herself!”
+
+“But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,” said
+Tom.
+
+“Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,” rejoined Nancy. “Miss Pollyanna told
+me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.”
+
+“Oh, I see, I see.” The old man nodded his head slowly. “They was always
+bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
+away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
+him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
+a bad mess,” he sighed, as he turned away.
+
+“Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round,” sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
+went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
+the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
+petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
+and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
+innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
+were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
+pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
+so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
+to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
+on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+realize that all this “gladness” was in the future, not the present.
+Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected,
+he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+
+“You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,” she added engagingly.
+
+“YOUR doctor?” Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren,
+talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small,
+brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+“Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,” smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. “Dr.
+Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.”
+
+“Oh-h!” said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+“Yes.” Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+“You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about--about broken
+legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+you?”
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite translate.
+
+“Only time can tell that, little girl,” he said gently; then he turned a
+grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly,
+if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+“meow” of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply
+Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+“Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will NEVER WALK
+again!”
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+terrified “Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!” Then Miss Polly, seeing the open
+door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan
+and--for the first time in her life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking “She heard!” stumbled toward the open door.
+The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay--he had
+caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was
+not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the
+door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes,
+awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms
+back to unhappy consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the
+bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed
+little girl.
+
+“Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+please!”
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+pale.
+
+“She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little later.
+What is it? Can't I--get it?”
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+“But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't
+true--'tisn't true!”
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent
+an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+“Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+mean I can't ever--walk again?”
+
+“There, there, dear--don't, don't!” choked the nurse. “Perhaps he didn't
+know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could happen,
+you know.”
+
+“But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody
+else about--about broken legs like mine!”
+
+“Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't, dear.”
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. “But I can't help thinking about
+it,” she sobbed. “It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt,
+how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or
+anybody?” She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. “Why, Miss Hunt, if
+I can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not know “the game;” but she did know that her patient
+must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+with the quieting powder ready.
+
+“There, there, dear, just take this,” she soothed; “and by and by we'll
+be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half
+as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.”
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+“I know; that sounds like things father used to say,” faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. “He said there was always something
+about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard
+he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+that, that could be worse--do you?”
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she
+felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then
+to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and
+its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.
+She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few
+minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+
+“I'm Nancy, sir,” she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. “Miss Harrington
+sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+anxiety that lay behind that short “well?”
+
+“It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,” she choked.
+
+“You don't mean--” He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+“Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never.”
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+“Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!”
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+
+“It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism
+girl!”
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+“She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?”
+
+“But she does, sir.” sobbed Nancy, “an' that's what makes it all the
+harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,” apologized the
+girl, hurriedly. “It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way.”
+
+“Poor--little--girl!” sighed the man again.
+
+“Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,” choked Nancy. “I
+hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up
+both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps
+thinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,
+too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about her
+game, though,” broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+
+“The 'glad game'?” asked the man. “Oh, yes; she told me of that.”
+
+“Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.
+But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.
+She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'
+again, ter be glad about.”
+
+“Well, why should she?” retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+“That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD be
+easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remind
+her.”
+
+“To remind her! Of what?” John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+impatient.
+
+“Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb just
+cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy ter
+TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing when
+you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.”
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+eyes.
+
+“Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+nicer ter play when--when it was hard,” resumed Nancy, in a dull voice.
+“But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' I
+must be goin', now, sir,” she broke off abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+“I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Bean
+again, I s'pose, sir, could I?”
+
+“I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him,” observed the man a
+little shortly. “Why?”
+
+“Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she was
+feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She said
+she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well that
+day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nice
+child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; but
+I didn't, sir.”
+
+“Yes, I know--what she means.”
+
+“All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,
+she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And
+now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!”
+ And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never
+walk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.
+Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had
+always a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the “game” that
+Pollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smiling
+face be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery little
+voice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed
+unbelievable, impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+men talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talking
+nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,
+came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what had
+come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play
+the game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that her
+niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+injured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was these
+messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+
+“I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,” he began almost harshly.
+“But can--nothing be done?”
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+“Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying
+them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost no
+hope.”
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face was
+white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+presence. At the door he turned.
+
+“I have a message for Pollyanna,” he said. “Will you tell her, please,
+that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.
+Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,
+probably.”
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+
+“You will adopt Jimmy Bean!” she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+“Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+would be--GLAD!”
+
+“Why, of--of course,” faltered Miss Polly.
+
+“Thank you,” bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has
+just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his
+little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.”
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+“Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+presence.”
+
+“The--what?”
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told
+her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly she
+would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of
+leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+“The child's presence,” stammered Pollyanna, hastily. “Mr. Pendleton
+told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's
+presence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child's
+presence.”
+
+“Oh, I--see,” said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more than
+Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probably
+brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was
+asking HER to be the “child's presence,” which was to transform his
+great pile of gray stone into a home. “I see,” she finished, her eyes
+stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton
+house and its master.
+
+“Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or a
+child's presence, to make a home, you know,” she remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+“DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?”
+
+“He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--not
+a home.”
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+“So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, and
+have a home.”
+
+“Pollyanna!” Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+color.
+
+“Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful.”
+
+“What did he--say?” Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of some
+force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+“He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+couldn't always get 'em for the asking.”
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+“He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.”
+
+“Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?”
+
+“Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said
+that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world
+if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the
+matter?” Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+
+“Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,” said Aunt
+Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow
+called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly
+entered the room.
+
+“I--I came to inquire for the little girl,” she stammered.
+
+“You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?” rejoined
+Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+“That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+Pollyanna,” hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. “We
+think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too--for mother, you
+know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how
+now she couldn't play it herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see
+how she CAN, either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the
+things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about the
+game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--” Milly stopped
+helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was “queer,”
+ but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words.
+When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+“I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want
+me to tell my niece?”
+
+“Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,” answered the girl, feverishly.
+“Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I
+want her to know HOW different she is--and me, too. I'm different. I've
+been trying to play it--the game--a little.”
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+“game,” but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with
+nervous volubility.
+
+“You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was always
+wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+much--under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up,
+and she takes interest in things--how she looks, and her nightdress, and
+all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things--reins and baby
+blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD
+to think she can do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you
+know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didn't DO
+something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do something--to
+knit, you know. And you can't think what a different room it is now,
+what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the
+window that SHE gave her--why, it actually makes you feel BETTER just to
+go in there now; and before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark
+and gloomy, and mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+“And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand
+it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that
+we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that
+she knew us. And--and that's all,” sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+feet. “You'll tell her?”
+
+“Why, of course,” murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of
+many; and always there were the messages--the messages which were in
+some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle
+over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew
+her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was always in black.
+To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror
+at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+“I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps.”
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+“Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message,” she stammered.
+
+“Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.”
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+“Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS,” she said, just
+touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's ill-concealed
+look of surprise, she added: “The little girl has been trying for so
+long to make me wear--some color, that I thought she'd be--glad to know
+I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would.
+You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all--” Mrs. Benton
+shook her head and turned away. “If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand.” And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at least, she
+wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered
+vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as
+“Mrs. Tarbell.”
+
+“I'm a stranger to you, of course,” she began at once. “But I'm not a
+stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was
+on these walks that I've met your niece--she's such a dear little girl!
+I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very
+sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me
+of--my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear
+of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never
+walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any
+longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you.”
+
+“You are very kind,” murmured Miss Polly.
+
+“But it is you who are to be kind,” demurred the other. “I--I want you
+to give her a message from me. Will you?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I
+know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if you'll pardon me
+I'd rather not explain.” Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the
+smile left her eyes. “Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt
+that I must tell--her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+rudeness in my call,” she begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+“Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's
+at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean--we used to.”
+ Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+“We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you--but she
+wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+is glad now.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+“Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!”
+
+“But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?”
+
+“Why, it's the game, and--” Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her
+lips.
+
+“What game?”
+
+“N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I tell
+other things that--that I'm not to speak of.”
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the
+shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks
+and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation--but
+whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been
+crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the
+little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in
+the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one
+was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was
+still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+“My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some of the
+things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and--and it broke me
+all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and--and
+I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd
+do more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred
+years. But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can
+make the best use of 'em, I notice.”
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+still husky.
+
+“Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl
+of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by
+often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the
+kids and talked to me--and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like
+it, and to like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks
+don't generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss
+Harrington, there wouldn't be so many--of my kind,” she added, with
+sudden bitterness.
+
+“Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't know--nor can't know,
+I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things--that I don't want
+her to know.
+
+“But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more
+ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and me, and ready
+for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the
+kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's
+never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and
+sit on our doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be
+glad. She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she
+told us why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play
+it.
+
+“Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+her, because she can't play it no more--that there's nothing to be glad
+about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day--that maybe she can be
+a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other, and
+play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+feel kind of bad--at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+Anyhow, we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?”
+
+“Yes, I will tell her,” promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then,
+with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. “And
+thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson,” she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+“Nancy!”
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits
+of the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary
+experience of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping
+point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress
+speak so sternly.
+
+“Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with
+it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to
+her that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town
+are putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to
+like something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I
+tried to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make
+much headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one
+of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?”
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+“It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin'
+ter make her a little glad, too.”
+
+“Glad of what?”
+
+“Just glad! That's the game.”
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+“There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?”
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+the eye.
+
+“I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her
+ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when
+she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would.
+It seems 'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin'
+but what there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an'
+that she could be glad about them crutches.”
+
+“Glad for--CRUTCHES!” Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was thinking of
+the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+“Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she
+said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she DIDN'T NEED
+'EM.”
+
+“Oh-h!” cried Miss Polly.
+
+“And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin' somethin'
+in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it, too, and
+that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause ye was
+so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest bein'
+glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.”
+
+“But, how--how--” Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+“An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,”
+ maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. “I
+wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out
+home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me
+glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things, an' big things; an'
+it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for
+a name half as much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't
+'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so.
+She's actually made me glad for Monday mornin's.”
+
+“Glad--for Monday mornings!”
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+“I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed
+lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does
+she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should
+think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in
+the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another
+one!' An' I'm blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin'
+since--an' it HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I
+thought of it; an' laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!”
+
+“But why hasn't--she told me--the game?” faltered Miss Polly. “Why has
+she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?”
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+“Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her father;
+so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.”
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+“She wanted ter tell ye, first off,” continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. “She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I
+begun it, so she could have some one.”
+
+“And--and--these others?” Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+“Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think
+they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she
+told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they
+gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry
+one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't
+help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so
+bad--specially when they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find
+anythin' ter be glad about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter
+tell her how glad she's made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see,
+she's always wanted ev'rybody ter play the game with her.”
+
+“Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now,” choked Miss Polly, as she
+turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+“Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now,” she muttered to herself.
+“Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now--o' Miss
+Polly!”
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+Pollyanna alone together.
+
+“And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,” announced Miss
+Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. “Do you remember Mrs.
+Payson?”
+
+“Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes
+they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say,
+and of course they don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary
+minister, you know, like--well, he isn't.”
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+“But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being
+so poor,” resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. “And she's got perfectly
+beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?”
+
+“But they aren't going 'way off, dear,” evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+“They're going to stay right there together.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O dear!”
+ broke off the little girl, miserably. “Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+Mr. Pendleton again?”
+
+“There, there, don't,” choked her aunt. “Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson
+said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going to stay
+together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to.”
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+“Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!”
+
+“Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make
+you--GLAD, Pollyanna.”
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+“Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know about
+the game, Aunt Polly?”
+
+“Yes, dear.” Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+matter-of-fact. “Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+to play it now--with you.”
+
+“Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you most
+of anybody, all the time.”
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+“Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+all the town is playing that game now with you--even to the minister! I
+haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just
+as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you
+told him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it.
+The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully
+happier--and all because of one little girl who taught the people a new
+game, and how to play it.”
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad,” she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. “Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway--else I
+couldn't have done--that!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story
+one day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a
+blown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did
+that didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the
+other story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two
+teeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth “hit”!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of
+bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the
+white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she had
+her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to think
+about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.
+John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and
+how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,
+and what bang-up “folks” Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it
+was all owing to her.
+
+“Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,”
+ Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed
+treatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's
+worst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into
+a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way
+to procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,
+and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides
+anxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged
+determination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat
+to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas
+Chilton.
+
+“Pendleton,” began the doctor, abruptly, “I've come to you because you,
+better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with
+Miss Polly Harrington.”
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--he
+did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+years, or more.
+
+“Yes,” he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+“Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+MUST make an examination.”
+
+“Well--can't you?”
+
+“CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--that
+the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+would be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her
+summoning me now--but I don't!”
+
+“But couldn't you go--without a summons?”
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+“Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know.”
+
+“But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+the quarrel--”
+
+“Forget the quarrel!” interrupted the doctor, savagely. “I'm not talking
+of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here
+there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It's
+PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?”
+
+“Chilton, what was the quarrel?” demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+“What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?” he snarled,
+pacing the room angrily. “A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or
+the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its having
+any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+or death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!”
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just
+as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached
+the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground
+outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+
+“Walk! Pollyanna!” John Pendleton was saying. “What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend of
+mine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a
+special study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.
+And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!”
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+“You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?”
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+“I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--Miss
+Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+best patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my hands
+still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!
+Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!”
+
+“Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!” retorted Pendleton.
+
+“But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'll
+never get!”
+
+“She must be made to ask you!”
+
+“How?”
+
+“I don't know.”
+
+“No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angry
+to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did ask
+me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when
+I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--” He
+did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,
+angrily.
+
+“But if she could be made to see--to understand,” urged John Pendleton.
+
+“Yes; and who's going to do it?” demanded the doctor, with a savage
+turn.
+
+“I don't know, I don't know,” groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+“Well, by Jinks, I know!” he whispered, exultingly. “I'M a-goin' ter
+do it!” And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the
+corner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+“It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,” announced Nancy in the
+doorway.
+
+“Me?” rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. “Are you sure he did not
+mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.”
+
+“Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.”
+
+“Very well, I'll come down.” And Miss Polly arose from her chair a
+little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+“Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think you
+would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+et--et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you
+WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood--”
+
+“Wh-at?” interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+“There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.”
+
+“Jimmy, what are you talking about?”
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+“That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.”
+
+“Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as
+you did before--and mix everything all up!”
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+“Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+talked in the library. Do you understand that?”
+
+“Yes, Jimmy.” Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+“Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it;
+an' I heard 'em talk.”
+
+“Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?”
+
+“'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',” bridled Jimmy.
+“And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make
+Pollyanna--walk!”
+
+“Jimmy, what do you mean?” Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+
+“There, I told ye so,” nodded Jimmy, contentedly. “Well, Dr. Chilton
+knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks--make her
+walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+him.”
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+“But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!” Miss Polly
+was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+“Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,” asserted
+Jimmy, eagerly. “They said that for some reason--I didn't rightly catch
+what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr. Warren so; an'
+Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him, on account of
+pride an' professional et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was
+wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they didn't know who
+could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away,
+'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?”
+
+“Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,” implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+“Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna
+walk?”
+
+“I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an'
+he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow,
+they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they
+was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An'
+say--you will let him come, won't you?--now you understand?”
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming
+in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes,
+thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she
+said brokenly:
+
+“Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick! I've
+got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a few
+minutes ago.”
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to
+hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+“Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+once--please? Thank you.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+“Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!” cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. “But, of course, if Aunt
+Polly doesn't want--”
+
+“It is all right, my dear; don't worry,” soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+hurrying forward. “I have told Dr. Chilton that--that I want him to look
+you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning.”
+
+“Oh, then you asked him to come,” murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+
+“Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--” But it was too late. The adoring
+happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and
+Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the
+room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+“Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever
+did has been done to-day,” he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+to themselves.
+
+“Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of all. Some
+day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your--uncle. And it's
+you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so--happy! And
+so--glad!--darling!”
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small
+palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+
+“Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted
+so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so glad! Why, Aunt
+Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind--even my legs,
+now!”
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+“Perhaps, some day, dear--” But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was quite wonderful
+enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+“Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages
+to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on
+purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr.
+Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do for you!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+“Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I did
+to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six steps. My, how
+good it was to be on legs again!
+
+“All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood
+beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week
+first, peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next
+month, was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and
+clapped her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through
+the piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying
+too much to call me anything.
+
+“I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't mind being
+here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding, anyhow. Wasn't
+that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get married right
+beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of the gladdest
+things!
+
+“Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any
+more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for
+everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never,
+never know how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them--that
+go, I mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+
+“With heaps of love to everybody,
+
+“POLLYANNA.”
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
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diff --git a/old/old/20080827-1450-h.htm b/old/old/20080827-1450-h.htm
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+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Pollyanna
+
+Author: Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Release Date: August 27, 2008 [EBook #1450]
+Last Updated: March 9, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller (for Tina), and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Eleanor H. Porter
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h4>
+      Author of &ldquo;Miss Billy,&rdquo; &ldquo;Miss Billy's Decision,"<br /> &ldquo;Cross Currents,&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;The Turn of the Tides,&rdquo; etc.
+    </h4>
+    <h5>
+      TO<br /><br /> My Cousin Belle
+    </h5>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>POLLYANNA</b> </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;MISS POLLY <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;OLD TOM AND NANCY
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        COMING OF POLLYANNA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        LITTLE ATTIC ROOM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION OF DUTY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        AND PUNISHMENTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;POLLYANNA
+        PAYS A VISIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        TELLS OF THE MAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;INTRODUCING JIMMY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012">
+        CHAPTER XII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;BEFORE THE LADIES' AID <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;IN PENDLETON WOODS
+        <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JUST A
+        MATTER OF JELLY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;DR.
+        CHILTON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER
+        XVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;"JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo; <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRISMS <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS SOMEWHAT
+        SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH
+        IS MORE SURPRISING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        QUESTION ANSWERED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;SERMONS
+        AND WOODBOXES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;AN
+        ACCIDENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JOHN
+        PENDLETON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        WAITING GAME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A
+        DOOR AJAR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;TWO
+        VISITS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THE
+        GAME AND ITS PLAYERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX.
+        </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030">
+        CHAPTER XXX. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;JIMMY TAKES THE HELM <br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;A NEW UNCLE <br /><br />
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a>&nbsp;&nbsp;WHICH IS A
+        LETTER FROM POLLYANNA <br /><br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      POLLYANNA
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June
+      morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she specially
+      prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was hurrying&mdash;actually
+      hurrying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+      working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew that
+      her mistress did not usually hurry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+      the pitcher in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo;&mdash;Miss Polly's voice was very stern now&mdash;&ldquo;when I'm
+      talking to you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to
+      say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the cloth
+      still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over&mdash;which did not add to
+      her composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am,&rdquo; she stammered, righting the pitcher, and
+      turning hastily. &ldquo;I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you specially
+      told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her mistress frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+      attention.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+      she could please this woman. Nancy had never &ldquo;worked out&rdquo; before; but a
+      sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children besides
+      Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward their
+      support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in the kitchen
+      of the great house on the hill&mdash;Nancy had come from &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo;
+       six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as the mistress of
+      the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest residents of the
+      town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly now as a stern,
+      severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to the floor, or if a
+      door banged&mdash;but who never thought to smile even when knives and
+      doors were still.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you've finished your morning work, Nancy,&rdquo; Miss Polly was saying
+      now, &ldquo;you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+      attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+      after you clear out the trunks and boxes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the front attic.&rdquo; Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: &ldquo;I suppose I may
+      as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is coming
+      to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be
+      nice!&rdquo; cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made
+      in the home at &ldquo;The Corners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use,&rdquo; rejoined Miss
+      Polly, stiffly. &ldquo;However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I am
+      a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy colored hotly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here might&mdash;might
+      brighten things up for you,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; rejoined the lady, dryly. &ldquo;I can't say, however, that I see
+      any immediate need for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, of course, you&mdash;you'd want her, your sister's child,&rdquo; ventured
+      Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+      lonely little stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+      silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that was
+      already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly WANT to
+      have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope I know my
+      duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy,&rdquo; she finished sharply, as she
+      left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher&mdash;now so
+      cold it must be rinsed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+      received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+      been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+      Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Madam:&mdash;I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+      two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+      practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know, he
+      was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre salary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+      understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+      however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child and
+      bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to you.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+      letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+      would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+      here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+      Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+      notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Respectfully yours,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jeremiah O. White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its envelope.
+      She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would take the
+      child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for that!&mdash;disagreeable
+      as the task would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+      her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time when
+      Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+      minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man of
+      wealth who had wanted her&mdash;and the family had much preferred him to
+      the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+      well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+      head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+      Jennie had preferred these&mdash;quite naturally, perhaps; so she had
+      married the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's
+      wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+      been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had had
+      little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie herself
+      had written, for a time, and had named her last baby &ldquo;Pollyanna&rdquo; for her
+      two sisters, Polly and Anna&mdash;the other babies had all died. This had
+      been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there had
+      come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little note
+      from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+      on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+      thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother, sisters&mdash;all
+      were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of the house and of
+      the thousands left her by her father. There were people who had openly
+      pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have some friend or
+      companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed either their sympathy
+      or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She liked being by herself.
+      She preferred quiet. But now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad, of
+      course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew her duty,
+      but had sufficient strength of character to perform it. But&mdash;POLLYANNA!&mdash;what
+      a ridiculous name!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+      particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+      vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than it
+      was an ardor to efface dirt&mdash;Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+      submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;just&mdash;wish&mdash;I could&mdash;dig&mdash;out the corners&mdash;of&mdash;her&mdash;soul!&rdquo;
+       she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+      pointed cleaning-stick. &ldquo;There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+      all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+      this hot little room&mdash;with no fire in the winter, too, and all this
+      big house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!&rdquo;
+       snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain;
+      &ldquo;I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+      about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's done&mdash;my part, anyhow,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;There ain't no dirt
+      here&mdash;and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!&mdash;a
+      pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!&rdquo; she
+      finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she
+      ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly: &ldquo;Well, I don't care. I hope
+      she did hear the bang,&mdash;I do, I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+      interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths about
+      the place for uncounted years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom,&rdquo; began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make
+      sure she was unobserved; &ldquo;did you know a little girl was comin' here ter
+      live with Miss Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+      difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A little girl&mdash;to live with Miss Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on with yer jokin',&rdquo; scoffed unbelieving Tom. &ldquo;Why don't ye tell me
+      the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's true. She told me so herself,&rdquo; maintained Nancy. &ldquo;It's her
+      niece; and she's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho!&mdash;I wonder, now,&rdquo; he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+      faded eyes. &ldquo;It ain't&mdash;but it must be&mdash;Miss Jennie's little gal!
+      There wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+      Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+      a-seein' this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was Miss Jennie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was an angel straight out of Heaven,&rdquo; breathed the man, fervently;
+      &ldquo;but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She was
+      twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her babies
+      all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one what's
+      a-comin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's eleven years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she might be,&rdquo; nodded the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic&mdash;more shame ter HER!&rdquo; scolded
+      Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,&rdquo; he
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in the
+      house!&rdquo; snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly,&rdquo; he grinned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if ever anybody could be fond of her!&rdquo; scorned Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,&rdquo; he said
+      slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love affair&mdash;HER! No!&mdash;and I guess nobody else didn't,
+      neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes they did,&rdquo; nodded the old man. &ldquo;And the feller's livin' ter-day&mdash;right
+      in this town, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should.&rdquo; The old man drew
+      himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the
+      loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved for
+      long years.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it don't seem possible&mdash;her and a lover,&rdquo; still maintained
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't know Miss Polly as I did,&rdquo; he argued. &ldquo;She used ter be real
+      handsome&mdash;and she would be now, if she'd let herself be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Handsome! Miss Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+      careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with posies
+      in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things&mdash;you'd see
+      she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of it&mdash;she
+      has, she has!&rdquo; sniffed Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. It begun then&mdash;at the time of the trouble with her
+      lover,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom; &ldquo;and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood
+      an' thistles ever since&mdash;she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal
+      with.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say she was,&rdquo; declared Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;There's no pleasin'
+      her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't for the
+      wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some day&mdash;some
+      day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be good-by
+      Nancy for me. It will, it will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral&mdash;but 'tain't best, child;
+      'tain't best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best.&rdquo; And again he bent his
+      old head to the work before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo; called a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes, ma'am,&rdquo; stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+      Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+      Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+      attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a
+      washstand, a bureau&mdash;without any mirror&mdash;and a small table.
+      There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the
+      wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little
+      room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had
+      not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+      down, up and down, trying to get out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+      an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, &ldquo;I found a fly
+      up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised at
+      some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you
+      to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive to-morrow at
+      four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take
+      the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says 'light hair,
+      red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I know, but I think
+      it is sufficient for your purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am; but&mdash;you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+      crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+      all.&rdquo; And she turned away&mdash;Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort
+      of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+      dish-towel she was ironing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'&mdash;all she
+      knows, indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would&mdash;and
+      her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+      drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+      Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+      Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. Short
+      as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good friends.
+      To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual
+      talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station
+      and alighted to wait for the train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over and over in her mind she was saying it &ldquo;light hair, red-checked
+      dress, straw hat.&rdquo; Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of
+      child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+      bang doors,&rdquo; she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,&rdquo;
+       grinned Timothy. &ldquo;Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+      the whistle now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Timothy, I&mdash;I think it was mean ter send me,&rdquo; chattered the
+      suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where she
+      could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before Nancy saw her&mdash;the slender little girl in the
+      red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+      back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to the
+      right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control her
+      shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was standing
+      quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you Miss&mdash;Pollyanna?&rdquo; she faltered. The next moment she found
+      herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,&rdquo; cried an eager voice in her ear.
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I hoped you
+      would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo; stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna
+      could possibly have known her&mdash;and wanted her. &ldquo;You&mdash;you did?&rdquo;
+       she repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked like,&rdquo;
+       cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the embarrassed
+      Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. &ldquo;And now I know, and I'm glad you
+      look just like you do look.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+      had been most confusing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I have,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, importantly. &ldquo;I've got a brand-new one.
+      The Ladies' Aid bought it for me&mdash;and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+      they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet a
+      trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow&mdash;much as half an
+      aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+      Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could get
+      my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+      Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And&mdash;there,
+      here 'tis,&rdquo; she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the
+      bag she carried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had to draw
+      one&mdash;after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy. Timothy's
+      eyes were studiously turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+      Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During the
+      whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+      uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+      Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis&mdash;I love to ride,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. &ldquo;Of course, if 'tisn't far,
+      I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the sooner,
+      you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty; father
+      told me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+      apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+      were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+      lifting of her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Father told me all about it. He remembered. And&mdash;and I ought to have
+      explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once&mdash;about this red
+      gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think
+      'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+      barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+      suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots&mdash;worn, you know&mdash;on
+      both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to buy
+      me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go
+      toward the red carpet they're trying to get&mdash;for the church, you
+      know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+      like children in black&mdash;that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+      course, but not the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm sure it&mdash;it'll be all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again with that
+      choking little breath. &ldquo;Of course, 'twould have been a good deal harder to
+      be glad in black&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of
+      us, you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to&mdash;to
+      do it, even in red gingham, because I&mdash;I wanted him, so; and I
+      couldn't help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the
+      rest have God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the
+      Ladies' Aid. But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt
+      Polly. I'm so glad I've got you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her turned
+      suddenly into shocked terror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but&mdash;but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear,&rdquo; she faltered.
+      &ldquo;I'm only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you AREN'T?&rdquo; stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We&mdash;we
+      ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+      flash from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who ARE you?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't look a bit like a
+      Ladies' Aider!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy laughed outright this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an' hard
+      ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there IS an Aunt Polly?&rdquo; demanded the child, anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet your life there is,&rdquo; cut in Timothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then.&rdquo; There was a moment's silence, then she went
+      on brightly: &ldquo;And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't come
+      to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+      besides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I call that a pretty slick compliment,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Why don't you thank the
+      little lady?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I was thinkin' about&mdash;Miss Polly,&rdquo; faltered Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+      got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me. He
+      said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does. You can see it now,&rdquo; said Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how pretty!&mdash;and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+      never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+      Polly rich, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+      knew any one that did have, only the Whites&mdash;they're some rich. They
+      have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+      ice-cream Sundays?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+      Timothy's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never saw
+      it on her table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+      ice-cream. But&mdash;anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+      ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's did&mdash;that
+      is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got the
+      carpets, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she's got the carpets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In every room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in almost every room,&rdquo; answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+      thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love carpets. We didn't have any,
+      only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one of those
+      had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly beautiful
+      ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some lambs and a
+      lion&mdash;not together, you know&mdash;the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+      course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet&mdash;that
+      is, I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know,&rdquo; answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+      you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father sold
+      it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad it
+      fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass&mdash;it broke, you
+      know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+      things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better&mdash;not being
+      used to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+      the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+      perfectly beautiful house?&rdquo; she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+      the wide driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+      opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+      You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave! I should say not,&rdquo; grinned the youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+      'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fun!&mdash;fun!&rdquo; repeated Nancy, indignantly, &ldquo;I guess it'll be somethin'
+      more than fun for that blessed child&mdash;when them two tries ter live
+      tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+      refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!&rdquo; she
+      vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up from
+      her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+      sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with &ldquo;duty&rdquo; written large on
+      every coldly extended finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Pollyanna? I&mdash;&rdquo; She had no chance to say more.
+      Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+      aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that you
+      let me come to live with you,&rdquo; she was sobbing. &ldquo;You don't know how
+      perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've had
+      just the Ladies' Aid!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely&mdash;though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+      acquaintance,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the small,
+      clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the doorway.
+      &ldquo;Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to
+      stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you look like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+      anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+      red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows. I
+      told Nancy how father said&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well, never mind now what your father said,&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly,
+      crisply. &ldquo;You had a trunk, I presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the Ladies'
+      Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it&mdash;of my own, I mean. The
+      barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them lately; but
+      there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she thought I ought to
+      have those. You see, father&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted her aunt again, sharply, &ldquo;there is one thing that
+      might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I do not
+      care to have you keep talking of your father to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you mean&mdash;&rdquo; She hesitated, and her aunt
+      filled the pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+      presume. I told Timothy to take it up&mdash;if you had one. You may follow
+      me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+      Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I&mdash;I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+      father,&rdquo; Pollyanna was thinking. &ldquo;It'll be easier, maybe&mdash;if I don't
+      talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+      about him.&rdquo; And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's &ldquo;kindness,&rdquo;
+       blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+      rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+      soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+      carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of picture
+      frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace curtains
+      flashed in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; breathed the little girl, rapturously; &ldquo;what
+      a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be you're so
+      rich!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached the
+      head of the stairs. &ldquo;I'm surprised at you&mdash;making a speech like that
+      to me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?&rdquo; queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+      be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,&rdquo;
+       declared the lady; &ldquo;certainly not, of RICHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway door.
+      She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room. Her idea
+      at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from herself,
+      and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness would not
+      destroy valuable furnishings. Now&mdash;with this evident strain of vanity
+      showing thus early&mdash;it was all the more fortunate that the room
+      planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+      eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that no
+      thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+      unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+      problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+      was waiting now her room&mdash;the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+      rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt
+      opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At the
+      top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners where
+      the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were stacked innumerable
+      trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      lifted her head higher&mdash;it seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw
+      that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see. Have
+      you your key?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+      not merely with your head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you need
+      here,&rdquo; she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+      pitcher. &ldquo;I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+      o'clock,&rdquo; she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking after
+      her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare floor, the
+      bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that had stood not
+      so long before in her own little room in the far-away Western home. The
+      next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its
+      side, covering her face with her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, you poor lamb,&rdquo; she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+      drawing the little girl into her arms. &ldquo;I was just a-fearin! I'd find you
+      like this, like this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy&mdash;awful wicked,&rdquo; she sobbed. &ldquo;I just
+      can't make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+      than I did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No more they did, neither,&rdquo; declared Nancy, stoutly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&mdash;NANCY!&rdquo; The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the
+      tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course,&rdquo; she cried briskly.
+      &ldquo;Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+      your dresses in no time, no time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There aren't very many there, anyway,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then they're all the sooner unpacked,&rdquo; declared Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;course,&rdquo; she answered a little uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the patched
+      undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses. Pollyanna,
+      smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in the closet,
+      stacking the books on the table, and putting away the undergarments in the
+      bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sure it&mdash;it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+       she stammered, after a while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in the
+      trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully at the
+      bare wall above.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+      there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth&mdash;but when
+      Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the windows,
+      a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her hands
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before,&rdquo; she breathed. &ldquo;Look&mdash;'way off
+      there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+      the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody need
+      any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me have
+      this room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+      hurriedly crossed to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, Nancy&mdash;what is it?&rdquo; she cried; then, fearfully: &ldquo;This
+      wasn't&mdash;YOUR room, was it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My room!&rdquo; stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. &ldquo;If you ain't a
+      little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt before&mdash;Oh,
+      land! there's her bell!&rdquo; After which amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her
+      feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her &ldquo;picture,&rdquo; as she mentally
+      designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+      the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+      stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+      moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+      drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her eager
+      hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about the room.
+      Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had
+      made a wonderful discovery&mdash;against this window a huge tree flung
+      great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting
+      her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe I can do it,&rdquo; she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+      nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+      the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+      from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+      ground was&mdash;even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees&mdash;a
+      little fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from
+      her strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then
+      she picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a bent
+      old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an open field
+      led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree stood on guard
+      beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there seemed to be just
+      one place in the world worth being in&mdash;the top of that big rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+      threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things, and&mdash;a
+      little out of breath&mdash;reached the path that ran through the open
+      field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+      thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+      window it had looked so near!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+      homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the bell
+      for supper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+      with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+      hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+      intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+      appeared; &ldquo;my niece is late. No, you need not call her,&rdquo; she added
+      severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. &ldquo;I told her what time
+      supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She may as
+      well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down she may
+      have bread and milk in the kitchen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+      looking at Nancy's face just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+      stairs and thence to the attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bread and milk, indeed!&mdash;and when the poor lamb hain't only just
+      cried herself to sleep,&rdquo; she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed
+      open the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. &ldquo;Where are you?
+      Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?&rdquo; she panted, looking in the
+      closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+      Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,&rdquo; she wailed. &ldquo;She's vanished
+      right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb&mdash;and me told ter
+      give her bread and milk in the kitchen&mdash;her what's eatin' angel food
+      this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone? Heaven?&rdquo; he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the brilliant
+      sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment intently, then
+      turned with a slow grin. &ldquo;Well, Nancy, it do look like as if she'd tried
+      ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,&rdquo; he agreed,
+      pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined against the
+      reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge
+      rock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night&mdash;not if I has my
+      say,&rdquo; declared Nancy, doggedly. &ldquo;If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+      furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,&rdquo; she flung back over her
+      shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,&rdquo;
+       panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+      regretfully slid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+      me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they found
+      I always came back all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I didn't even know you'd went,&rdquo; cried Nancy, tucking the little
+      girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. &ldquo;I didn't see
+      you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+      do, I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did, 'most&mdash;only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Came down the tree, outside my window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&rdquo; gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. &ldquo;I'd like ter
+      know what yer aunt would say ter that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,&rdquo; promised the
+      little girl, cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy!&rdquo; gasped Nancy. &ldquo;No&mdash;no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;er&mdash;yes&mdash;well, never mind. I&mdash;I ain't so very
+      particular about knowin' what she'd say, truly,&rdquo; stammered Nancy,
+      determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. &ldquo;But,
+      say, we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll help,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna!&rdquo; demurred Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took
+      a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared&mdash;a little,
+      'cause then you came after me,&rdquo; she shivered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I&mdash;I'm afraid you'll
+      have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't like
+      it&mdash;because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I couldn't. I was up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but&mdash;she didn't know that, you see!&rdquo; observed Nancy, dryly,
+      stifling a chuckle. &ldquo;I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm not. I'm glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see any
+      trouble about being glad about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',&rdquo; retorted
+      Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's brave attempts
+      to like the bare little attic room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's the game, you know, anyway.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;GAME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the 'just being glad' game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,&rdquo; rejoined
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+      girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it&mdash;some of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it? I ain't much on games, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+      twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CRUTCHES!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but when
+      the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in, but
+      the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in handy
+      for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,&rdquo; declared
+      Nancy, almost irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be glad
+      about&mdash;no matter what 'twas,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. &ldquo;And we
+      began right then&mdash;on the crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about&mdash;gettin' a
+      pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is&mdash;there is,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;But <i>I</i> couldn't see it,
+      either, Nancy, at first,&rdquo; she added, with quick honesty. &ldquo;Father had to
+      tell it to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME,&rdquo; almost snapped Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't&mdash;NEED&mdash;'EM!&rdquo;
+       exulted Pollyanna, triumphantly. &ldquo;You see it's just as easy&mdash;when you
+      know how!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the queer doin's!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna with
+      almost fearful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it isn't queer&mdash;it's lovely,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna
+      enthusiastically. &ldquo;And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+      the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only&mdash;only sometimes it's almost
+      too hard&mdash;like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't
+      anybody but a Ladies' Aid left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+      house with nothin' in it,&rdquo; growled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was a hard one, at first,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;specially when I was so
+      kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and I
+      HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I hated
+      to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out
+      the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be glad about. You
+      see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other
+      kind&mdash;like the doll you wanted, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most generally it doesn't take so long,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna; &ldquo;and lots of
+      times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+      used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it so
+      much,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;I suppose, though, it&mdash;it'll be a little harder
+      now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+      play it, though,&rdquo; she added, as an after-thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My stars and stockings!&mdash;HER!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, behind her teeth.
+      Then, aloud, she said doggedly: &ldquo;See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin'
+      that I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway;
+      but I'll play it with ye, after a fashion&mdash;I just will, I will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. &ldquo;That'll be
+      splendid! Won't we have fun?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Er&mdash;maybe,&rdquo; conceded Nancy, in open doubt. &ldquo;But you mustn't count
+      too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin'
+      ter make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+      ter play it with, anyhow,&rdquo; she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+      together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+      suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+      Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into
+      the kitchen to eat bread and milk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+      Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day, and
+      to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it
+      is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be careful how
+      you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See that you are down
+      to that. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+      and gave her an affectionate hug.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had such a beautiful time, so far,&rdquo; she sighed happily. &ldquo;I know I'm
+      going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before I
+      came. Good-night,&rdquo; she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. &ldquo;What a most
+      extraordinary child!&rdquo; Then she frowned. &ldquo;She's 'glad' I punished her, and
+      I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with me!
+      Well, upon my soul!&rdquo; ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into
+      the tightly-clutched sheet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit now&mdash;not
+      one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be glad about
+      sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark&mdash;like this. If only I
+      was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it would be
+      easier!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed
+      her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If playin' a silly-fool game&mdash;about bein' glad you've got crutches
+      when you want dolls&mdash;is got ter be&mdash;my way&mdash;o' bein' that
+      rock o' refuge&mdash;why, I'm a-goin' ter play it&mdash;I am, I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her
+      arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not see
+      the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and she
+      knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+      Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+      window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt was
+      already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she made
+      herself ready to join her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+      Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+      screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+      Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+      alive!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANNA!&rdquo; remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect as
+      she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her neck.
+      &ldquo;Is this the usual way you say good morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from my
+      window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies' Aider,
+      and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just had to
+      come down and hug you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a frown&mdash;with
+      not her usual success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you&mdash;I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+      understand&mdash;about those rose-bushes,&rdquo; she said stiffly. Then she
+      turned and walked rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you always work in the garden, Mr.&mdash;Man?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna,
+      interestedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as if
+      with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener,&rdquo; he answered. Timidly, but as if
+      impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+      it rest for a moment on her bright hair. &ldquo;You are so like your mother,
+      little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+      You see, I used ter work in the garden&mdash;then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did? And you knew my mother, really&mdash;when she was just a little
+      earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!&rdquo; And down
+      plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+      the back door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast&mdash;mornin's,&rdquo; she panted,
+      pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+      &ldquo;and other times it means other meals. But it always means that you're ter
+      run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye don't&mdash;well,
+      it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about
+      in that!&rdquo; she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo
+      an unruly chicken into a coop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss Polly,
+      her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here
+      and there over the table, said sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, where did those flies come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen.&rdquo; Nancy had been too
+      excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; observed Pollyanna,
+      amiably. &ldquo;There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+      upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+      the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours!&rdquo; gasped Miss Polly. &ldquo;What do you mean? Where did they come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+      windows. I SAW some of them come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was grave,
+      but very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy,&rdquo; directed her mistress, sharply, &ldquo;you may set the muffins down and
+      go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the doors,
+      also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every room with
+      the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To her niece she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+      that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+      forgotten YOUR duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My&mdash;duty?&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+      windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+      unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I will
+      give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+      hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized
+      timidly. &ldquo;I won't raise the windows again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+      over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out a
+      small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+      room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+      things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+      magnified, cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; The next moment she skipped merrily from the
+      room, banging the door behind her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+      opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up the
+      attic stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+      every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+      greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and interesting
+      in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why, I didn't
+      suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. &ldquo;Pollyanna, you may
+      bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+      suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned toward
+      the closet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did&mdash;and
+      THEY said they were shameful,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;But there were mostly things
+      for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and&mdash;did
+      you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she hurried on, with a hot
+      blush. &ldquo;I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+      sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich&mdash;up here in this room,
+      you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+      plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+      hurrying on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+      barrels&mdash;except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're
+      going to&mdash;even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every
+      time, too, that were hardest to play the game on, for father and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+      to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+      all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They aren't nice, at all,&rdquo; she choked, &ldquo;and they'd been black if it
+      hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've got.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+      garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+      frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got the best ones on,&rdquo; confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. &ldquo;The Ladies'
+      Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs. Jones&mdash;she's
+      the president&mdash;told 'em I should have that if they had to clatter
+      down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they won't. Mr.
+      White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says; but he's got
+      money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the carpet&mdash;on
+      account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad that if he
+      did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+      finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath&mdash;I mean, I was taught at home
+      some, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr. Hall,
+      the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong. Meanwhile,
+      I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to read
+      to myself&mdash;truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+      glad, either, for I like best to read to myself&mdash;on account of the
+      big words, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. &ldquo;Have you studied music?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much. I don't like my music&mdash;I like other people's, though. I
+      learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray&mdash;she plays for
+      church&mdash;she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+      Polly. I'd rather, truly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+      instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo; Pollyanna sighed. &ldquo;The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I had
+      an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle like the
+      rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought backstitching
+      ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other way), and Mrs.
+      Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever, at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+      shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+      presume.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't got
+      far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing. They
+      were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made it
+      alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to take
+      turns at me one forenoon a week&mdash;in their own kitchens, you know. I'd
+      only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when&mdash;when I had
+      to stop.&rdquo; Her voice broke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!&rdquo; scorned Miss Polly. &ldquo;I think we
+      can remedy that very soon.&rdquo; She paused in thought for a minute, then went
+      on slowly: &ldquo;At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+      half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+      order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+      spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you will
+      sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I shall, of
+      course, procure a teacher at once for you,&rdquo; she finished decisively, as
+      she arose from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all just
+      to&mdash;to live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+      Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+      asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living&mdash;doing the things you
+      want to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing
+      hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all
+      about the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+      perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+      living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+      proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if I am
+      willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and instruction,
+      YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that care and
+      instruction are not ungratefully wasted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful&mdash;to YOU! Why, I
+      LOVE YOU&mdash;and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful,&rdquo; vouchsafed Miss
+      Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+      after her:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted to&mdash;to
+      give away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh&mdash;a sigh that ascended straight to
+      Pollyanna's ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town at
+      half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my niece
+      to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you if I
+      should let you appear out in any one of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed now&mdash;she believed she was going to hate that word&mdash;duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please,&rdquo; she called wistfully, &ldquo;isn't there ANY way you can
+      be glad about all that&mdash;duty business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with very
+      red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. &ldquo;Don't be
+      impertinent, Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+      straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+      of duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that,&rdquo; she sighed.
+      &ldquo;I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be glad about
+      in all that duty business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed on the
+      forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and began to
+      put away the dresses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see,&rdquo; she said
+      aloud; &ldquo;unless&mdash;it's to be glad when the duty's done!&rdquo; Whereupon she
+      laughed suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+      four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile from
+      the homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+      exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with the
+      feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at last
+      on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of a
+      volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of it
+      with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to keep their
+      friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna herself came
+      out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as she expressed
+      it to one of the clerks: &ldquo;When you haven't had anybody but missionary
+      barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly lovely to just
+      walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and that don't have to
+      be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+      and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+      on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid a
+      visit to a neighbor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her very
+      happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six miles away
+      at &ldquo;The Corners,&rdquo; where lived her own dear mother, and her equally dear
+      brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if Miss Polly were
+      willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,&rdquo; sighed
+      Nancy. &ldquo;They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I&mdash;I just
+      hate 'Nancy'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+      and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names in
+      'em, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,&rdquo;
+       retorted Nancy, &ldquo;and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+      name's just grand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow,&rdquo; she chuckled, &ldquo;you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hephzibah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+      doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' she feels
+      just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+      like to be hurrahed at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?&mdash;I sha'n't
+      never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep&mdash;Hep!' and
+      giggle. My, I guess I AM glad&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped short and turned amazed
+      eyes on the little girl. &ldquo;Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean&mdash;was you
+      playin' that 'ere game THEN&mdash;about my bein' glad I wa'n't named
+      Hephzibah'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game&mdash;but that's one of the
+      times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots of
+      times; you get so used to it&mdash;looking for something to be glad about,
+      you know. And most generally there is something about everything that you
+      can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, m-maybe,&rdquo; granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet come,
+      and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes Pollyanna
+      looked at the two fast-closed windows&mdash;but she did not raise them.
+      She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew out her
+      candle and climbed into bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+      the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+      have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way across
+      the room and opened her door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung a
+      path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window. With
+      a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to the
+      left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+      silvery path, and on to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+      not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+      there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to hot
+      cheeks and hands!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+      she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+      Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled her
+      with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+      little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+      horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+      outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+      roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+      Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out of
+      doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window a
+      row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that they
+      contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little fearfully
+      now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice fat soft one
+      (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a thinner one to
+      be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was so thin it seemed
+      almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna in high glee
+      pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash, stuffed her burden
+      through to the roof below, then let herself down after it, closing the
+      window carefully behind her&mdash;Pollyanna had not forgotten those flies
+      with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+      delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin roof
+      under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna rather
+      liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from end to
+      end&mdash;it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after her
+      hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear
+      of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on
+      the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the other
+      for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come,&rdquo; she murmured, blinking up
+      at the stars; &ldquo;else I couldn't have had this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly herself
+      was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+      frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice to
+      Timothy:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come up quick!&mdash;you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+      the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis or
+      somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the east
+      window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here&mdash;but
+      hurry, quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by a
+      lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes to
+      find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting through
+      the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean?&rdquo; cried Aunt Polly then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Tom&mdash;Aunt Polly!&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;Don't look so scared! It
+      isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+      only that I was so hot&mdash;in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly,
+      so the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+      precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+      Miss Polly bit her lip hard&mdash;until the men were gone; then she said
+      sternly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all the
+      extraordinary children!&rdquo; she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna
+      by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath of
+      the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long quivering
+      sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me.
+      The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my duty
+      to keep you where I know where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With you?&mdash;in your bed?&rdquo; she cried rapturously. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+      with some one sometime&mdash;some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+      Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+      didn't come! Wouldn't you be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to tell
+      the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna&mdash;and for the
+      third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+      punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+      Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+      something like order&mdash;though not exactly the order that Miss Polly
+      had at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and
+      studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of
+      these things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more
+      time, also, to &ldquo;just live,&rdquo; as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+      afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she liked&mdash;provided
+      she did not &ldquo;like&rdquo; to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to the
+      child as a relief to Pollyanna from work&mdash;or as a relief to Aunt
+      Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+      Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate &ldquo;What an extraordinary
+      child!&rdquo; and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+      conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+      Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+      homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+      outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far away,
+      they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's age.
+      This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, I don't mind it at all,&rdquo; she explained to Nancy. &ldquo;I'm happy just
+      to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the people. I
+      just love people. Don't you, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I can't say I do&mdash;all of 'em,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, tersely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for &ldquo;an errand to
+      run,&rdquo; so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or another; and
+      it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To herself
+      Pollyanna always called him &ldquo;the Man,&rdquo; no matter if she met a dozen other
+      men the same day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat&mdash;two things
+      that the &ldquo;just men&rdquo; never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather pale,
+      and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked erect,
+      and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna vaguely
+      sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day spoke to
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?&rdquo; she called cheerily, as she
+      approached him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you speak&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he asked in a sharp voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; he grunted; and strode on again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day she saw him again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice,&rdquo; she called out
+      cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+      laughed happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+      the man stopped abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+      you stopped. Now we're introduced&mdash;only I don't know your name yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; The man did not finish his sentence, but strode
+      on faster than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+      smiling lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe he didn't understand&mdash;but that was only half an introduction.
+      I don't know HIS name, yet,&rdquo; she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+      Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+      thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a
+      member of her church&mdash;it was the duty of all the church members to
+      look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually
+      on Thursday afternoons&mdash;not personally, but through Nancy. To-day
+      Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her
+      in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it,&rdquo; Nancy had declared in private
+      afterwards to Pollyanna; &ldquo;though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the job off
+      on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'd love to do it, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you won't&mdash;after you've done it once,&rdquo; predicted Nancy,
+      sourly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a soul
+      go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All is, I
+      pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, why, Nancy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened, has
+      happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't run
+      ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas Sunday;
+      and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted chicken&mdash;but
+      if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for lamb broth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a funny woman,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I think I shall like to go
+      to see her. She must be so surprising and&mdash;and different. I love
+      DIFFERENT folks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right&mdash;I hope, for the
+      sake of the rest of us!&rdquo; Nancy had finished grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at the
+      gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling, indeed,
+      at the prospect of meeting this &ldquo;different&rdquo; Mrs. Snow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; began Pollyanna politely. &ldquo;I'm from Miss Polly
+      Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,&rdquo;
+       muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+      girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at the
+      end of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+      Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+      gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+      across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+      to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Jelly?&rdquo; murmured a fretful voice. &ldquo;Of course I'm very much obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,&rdquo;
+       she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; The sick woman turned sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothing, much,&rdquo; apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; &ldquo;and of course it
+      doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+      chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+      chicken&mdash;but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed&mdash;a
+      most unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow&mdash;and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too!
+      That would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+      Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's why
+      I'm here with the jelly this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+      interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on her
+      pillow listlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my appetite
+      isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped
+      suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. &ldquo;I never slept a
+      wink last night&mdash;not a wink!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear, I wish <i>I</i> didn't,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on
+      the little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair.
+      &ldquo;You lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lose time&mdash;sleeping!&rdquo; exclaimed the sick woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+      can't live nights, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Here! do you go to
+      that window and pull up the curtain,&rdquo; she directed. &ldquo;I should like to know
+      what you look like!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?&rdquo; she sighed, as she went
+      to the window; &ldquo;&mdash;and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+      you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can&mdash;oh!&rdquo; she broke off
+      excitedly, as she turned back to the bed; &ldquo;I'm so glad you wanted to see
+      me, because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me!&mdash;pretty!&rdquo; scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. Didn't you know it?&rdquo; cried Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, no, I didn't,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived forty
+      years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy wishing things
+      were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too, and
+      curly,&rdquo; cooed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I love black curls. (That's one of the things
+      I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two little red
+      spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I should think you'd
+      know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The glass!&rdquo; snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. &ldquo;Yes,
+      well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days&mdash;and
+      you wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no, of course not,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. &ldquo;But wait&mdash;just
+      let me show you,&rdquo; she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau and picking
+      up a small hand-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+      critical gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+      little before I let you see it,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;May I fix your hair,
+      please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I&mdash;suppose so, if you want to,&rdquo; permitted Mrs. Snow,
+      grudgingly; &ldquo;but 'twon't stay, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, carefully
+      laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. &ldquo;I sha'n't do much
+      to-day, of course&mdash;I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty you
+      are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+      lovely time with it,&rdquo; she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+      hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+      curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or shaking
+      a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better pose.
+      Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly scoffing at
+      the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to tingle with a
+      feeling perilously near to excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by and
+      tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect. &ldquo;Now I
+      reckon we're ready to be looked at!&rdquo; And she held out the mirror in
+      triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. &ldquo;I like
+      red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+      night, so what's the difference!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you'd be glad they did fade,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna,
+      &ldquo;'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+      hair fluffed out like that,&rdquo; she finished with a satisfied gaze. &ldquo;Don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hm-m; maybe. Still&mdash;'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on
+      the pillow as I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;and I'm glad, too,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+      &ldquo;because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+      it's black&mdash;black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+      like mine does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair&mdash;shows gray too
+      soon,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+      mirror before her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you wouldn't!&mdash;not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for
+      black hair nor anything else&mdash;if you had to lie here all day as I
+      do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, 'twould be kind of hard&mdash;to do it then, wouldn't it?&rdquo; she mused
+      aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad about things&mdash;when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+      should say it would,&rdquo; retorted Mrs. Snow. &ldquo;If you don't think so, just
+      tell me something to be glad about; that's all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+      clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one&mdash;won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+      I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come I
+      can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by,&rdquo; she called
+      again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?&rdquo; ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+      staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up the
+      mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake,&rdquo; she muttered
+      under her breath. &ldquo;I declare, I didn't know it could look so pretty. But
+      then, what's the use?&rdquo; she sighed, dropping the little glass into the
+      bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+      still lay among the bedclothes&mdash;though it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, mother&mdash;the curtain is up!&rdquo; cried Milly, dividing her amazed
+      stare between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what if it is?&rdquo; snapped the sick woman. &ldquo;I needn't stay in the dark
+      all my life, if I am sick, need I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, n-no, of course not,&rdquo; rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as she
+      reached for the medicine bottle. &ldquo;It's only&mdash;well, you know very well
+      that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+      wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+      nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress&mdash;instead of
+      lamb broth, for a change!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;mother!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer behind
+      her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months had been
+      vainly urging her mother to wear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+      with a bright smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It isn't so nice to-day, is it?&rdquo; she called blithesomely. &ldquo;I'm glad it
+      doesn't rain always, anyhow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna decided
+      that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore (which
+      happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She thought it
+      particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man was striding along,
+      his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the ground&mdash;which seemed,
+      to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the
+      freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a special treat, was on a
+      morning errand to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; she chirped. &ldquo;I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right now,
+      once for all,&rdquo; he began testily. &ldquo;I've got something besides the weather
+      to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not.&rdquo; Pollyanna beamed
+      joyously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; well&mdash;Eh? What?&rdquo; he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding
+      of her words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, that's why I told you&mdash;so you would notice it, you know&mdash;that
+      the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you only
+      stopped to think of it&mdash;and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+      thinking of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent
+      gesture. He started forward again, but after the second step he turned
+      back, still frowning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still, I
+      don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+      sometimes&mdash;being used to the Ladies' Aid, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?&rdquo; The man's
+      lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still trying
+      to hold them grimly stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider&mdash;not but
+      that you're just as good, of course&mdash;maybe better,&rdquo; she added in
+      hurried politeness. &ldquo;You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on
+      as before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight into
+      hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really pleasant,
+      Pollyanna thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good afternoon,&rdquo; he greeted her a little stiffly. &ldquo;Perhaps I'd better say
+      right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you don't have to tell me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, brightly. &ldquo;I KNEW you
+      knew it just as soon as I saw you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you did, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted the man, as he passed on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+      first, though usually he said little but &ldquo;good afternoon.&rdquo; Even that,
+      however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+      one day when the greeting was given.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she gasped, &ldquo;did that man SPEAK TO YOU?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, he always does&mdash;now,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who&mdash;he&mdash;is?&rdquo; demanded
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+      introducing, but he didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's eyes widened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he never speaks ter anybody, child&mdash;he hain't for years, I
+      guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+      Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill. He
+      won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him&mdash;comes down ter the
+      hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+      him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he wants
+      ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time&mdash;only it'll be
+      somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and I
+      took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally. We used
+      to say how glad we were we liked beans&mdash;that is, we said it specially
+      when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty
+      cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like 'em! What if he does&mdash;or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+      poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has&mdash;from his father.
+      There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills, if
+      he wanted to&mdash;and not know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna giggled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+      come to try to chew 'em!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;He ain't
+      spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, for the heathen,&rdquo; surmised Pollyanna. &ldquo;How perfectly splendid! That's
+      denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+      come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+      something that prevented the words being spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she went on:
+      &ldquo;But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss Pollyanna. He
+      don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great big lovely house
+      all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's crazy, and some
+      jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his closet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy!&rdquo; shuddered Pollyanna. &ldquo;How can he keep such a dreadful thing?
+      I should think he'd throw it away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead of
+      figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+      correcting the mistake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;Some years he jest
+      travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen countries&mdash;Egypt
+      and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, a missionary,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed oddly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+      books&mdash;queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+      them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+      money here&mdash;leastways, not for jest livin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not&mdash;if he's saving it for the heathen,&rdquo; declared
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs.
+      Snow, only he's a different different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess he is&mdash;rather,&rdquo; chuckled Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as at
+      first, in a darkened room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother,&rdquo; announced Milly, in a
+      tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it's you, is it?&rdquo; asked a fretful voice from the bed. &ldquo;I remember
+      you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you had
+      come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+      to-day is, then,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room, and
+      setting her basket carefully down on a chair. &ldquo;My! but aren't you dark
+      here, though? I can't see you a bit,&rdquo; she cried, unhesitatingly crossing
+      to the window and pulling up the shade. &ldquo;I want to see if you've fixed
+      your hair like I did&mdash;oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm glad you
+      haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it&mdash;later. But now
+      I want you to see what I've brought you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman stirred restlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,&rdquo; she
+      scoffed&mdash;but she turned her eyes toward the basket. &ldquo;Well, what is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess! What do you want?&rdquo; Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+      face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;After all, they
+      all taste alike!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+      been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+      what she DID want seemed impossible&mdash;until she knew what she had.
+      Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+      waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, there's lamb broth&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got it!&rdquo; crowed Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that's what I DIDN'T want,&rdquo; sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+      her stomach craved. &ldquo;It was chicken I wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I've got that, too,&rdquo; chuckled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman turned in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both of them?&rdquo; she demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; triumphed Pollyanna. &ldquo;I was just bound
+      you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+      course, there's only a little of each&mdash;but there's some of all of
+      'em! I'm so glad you did want chicken,&rdquo; she went on contentedly, as she
+      lifted the three little bowls from her basket. &ldquo;You see, I got to thinking
+      on the way here&mdash;what if you should say tripe, or onions, or
+      something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a shame&mdash;when
+      I'd tried so hard?&rdquo; she laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying&mdash;mentally to
+      find something she had lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I'm to leave them all,&rdquo; announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+      three bowls in a row on the table. &ldquo;Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+      want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?&rdquo; she finished in polite inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very poorly, thank you,&rdquo; murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her usual
+      listless attitude. &ldquo;I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins next door
+      has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly wild. She was
+      at it all the morning&mdash;every minute! I'm sure, I don't know what I
+      shall do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Polly nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once&mdash;one of my Ladies'
+      Aiders, you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+      couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+      have. Can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thrash 'round&mdash;move, you know, so as to change your position when
+      the music gets too hard to stand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I can move&mdash;anywhere&mdash;in bed,&rdquo; she rejoined a
+      little irritably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?&rdquo; nodded
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have rheumatic
+      fever&mdash;though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says. She told
+      me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it hadn't been
+      for Mr. White's sister's ears&mdash;being deaf, so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sister's&mdash;EARS! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+      White. You see, Miss White was deaf&mdash;awfully deaf; and she came to
+      visit 'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they
+      had such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+      every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White felt
+      so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she DID hear
+      it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if she was deaf
+      and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You see, she was
+      playing the game, too. I'd told her about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow&mdash;what you
+      can be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD about! What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+      something to be glad about&mdash;glad, you know, even though you did have
+      to lie here abed all day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; scoffed the woman. &ldquo;THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't suppose
+      you were in earnest any more than I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I was,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; &ldquo;and I found it, too.
+      But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard. And
+      I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for a
+      while. Then I got it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you, really? Well, what is it?&rdquo; Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+      polite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought&mdash;how glad you could be&mdash;that other folks weren't like
+      you&mdash;all sick in bed like this, you know,&rdquo; she announced
+      impressively. Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, really!&rdquo; she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now I'll tell you the game,&rdquo; proposed Pollyanna, blithely confident.
+      &ldquo;It'll be just lovely for you to play&mdash;it'll be so hard. And there's
+      so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this.&rdquo; And she began
+      to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll that did not
+      come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said with dreary
+      listlessness. &ldquo;She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+      says you're to hurry&mdash;that you've got some practising to make up
+      before dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'll hurry.&rdquo; Suddenly she laughed. &ldquo;I suppose I
+      ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+      were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+      cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by,&rdquo; flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+      &ldquo;I'm awfully sorry about the hair&mdash;I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+      next time!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+      indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+      Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy; but
+      I trust that they are profitable, as well&mdash;otherwise I should have
+      failed signally in my duty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss&mdash;a
+      proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but one
+      day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they should
+      be just happy days?&rdquo; she asked wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I mean, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it&mdash;it's just being profitable&mdash;having profit, something
+      to show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?&rdquo; questioned Pollyanna, a little
+      anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you won't
+      ever play the game, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Game? What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+      &ldquo;N-nothing,&rdquo; she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do for this morning, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said tersely. And the
+      sewing lesson was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room, met
+      her aunt on the stairway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You were coming up to
+      see me! Come right in. I love company,&rdquo; she finished, scampering up the
+      stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+      planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+      the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself, not
+      in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little room
+      sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs&mdash;so many, many times
+      since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+      utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+      out to do!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I love company,&rdquo; said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+      dispensing the hospitality of a palace; &ldquo;specially since I've had this
+      room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas a
+      hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are they?
+      And of course I do own this one, don't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+      did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+      carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want&mdash;&rdquo; With a
+      painful blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+      different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably not,&rdquo; returned Miss Polly, coldly; &ldquo;but you did say it, so
+      suppose we have the rest of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+      carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PLANNING on them!&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she apologized. &ldquo;It was only
+      because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh, we'd
+      had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and one had
+      ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those two
+      pictures; the one fath&mdash;I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+      that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+      wanted them, so&mdash;pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+      planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+      here, and&mdash;and&mdash;but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute&mdash;I
+      mean, a few minutes&mdash;before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T
+      have a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there
+      couldn't be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've
+      been so good to me, that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said stiffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have said quite enough, I'm sure.&rdquo; The next minute she had swept down
+      the stairs&mdash;and not until she reached the first floor did it suddenly
+      occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a white wool
+      shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+      the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there for
+      the present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, ma'am,&rdquo; said Nancy aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O glory!&rdquo; said Nancy to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter sleep
+      down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are&mdash;you are!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna actually grew white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;why, Nancy, not really&mdash;really and truly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you'll think it's really and truly,&rdquo; prophesied Nancy,
+      exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+      had taken from the closet. &ldquo;I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+      goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+      risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at a
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her goal&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's got
+      EVERYTHING&mdash;the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides the
+      one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of course;
+      but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will take proper
+      care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that chair; and you
+      have banged two doors in the last half-minute.&rdquo; Miss Polly spoke sternly,
+      all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable reason, she felt
+      inclined to cry&mdash;and Miss Polly was not used to feeling inclined to
+      cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm; I know I banged 'em&mdash;those doors,&rdquo; she admitted cheerfully.
+      &ldquo;You see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+      doors if&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new
+      interest. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope&mdash;not, Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!&rdquo; Pollyanna's face expressed only concerned
+      sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A shame!&rdquo; repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+      'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+      ever glad over anything&mdash;or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't
+      have helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PollyANna!&rdquo; gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the distant
+      bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had gone to
+      help Nancy bring down &ldquo;her things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;&mdash;but then,
+      of course she HAD been glad&mdash;over some things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      August came. August brought several surprises and some changes&mdash;none
+      of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+      Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First there was the kitten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+      When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+      claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too,&rdquo; she told her
+      aunt in happy confidence; &ldquo;'cause I wanted to bring it home all the time.
+      I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery in
+      Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats&mdash;not
+      even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+      all mangy and fleay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it, poor little thing,&rdquo; crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking into
+      the little creature's frightened eyes. &ldquo;And it's all trembly, too, it's so
+      scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep it, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;nor anybody else,&rdquo; retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, they do,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her aunt's
+      words. &ldquo;I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find where it
+      belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it&mdash;poor little lonesome
+      thing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+      helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+      had her now fast in its grip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I knew,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, &ldquo;that you wouldn't
+      let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+      taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+      keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+      anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,&rdquo; she nodded happily, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Miss Polly. &ldquo;I don't&mdash;&rdquo; But
+      Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going to
+      bring up along with me!&rdquo; And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room&mdash;who
+      abhorred cats&mdash;fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay,
+      powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+      was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+      herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy&mdash;a role
+      that Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+      that the woman&mdash;who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+      possible&mdash;found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small, ragged
+      boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss Polly did
+      have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot jelly
+      again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of friends now.
+      Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna had made, the
+      one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was
+      playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it
+      very well&mdash;she had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was
+      not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's cheery
+      instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast.
+      To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she was glad
+      Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what she had
+      been wanting&mdash;she did not know that Milly, at the front door, had
+      told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent over a
+      great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+      whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo yourself,&rdquo; he mumbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly,&rdquo; she
+      chuckled, stopping before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+      whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+      near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was &ldquo;used to
+      Ladies' Aiders,&rdquo; and &ldquo;didn't mind,&rdquo; she had sighed at times for some
+      companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name's Pollyanna Whittier,&rdquo; she began pleasantly. &ldquo;What's yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+      settled back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part&mdash;some folks
+      don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+      live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nowhere! Why, you can't do that&mdash;everybody lives somewhere,&rdquo;
+       asserted Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't&mdash;just now. I'm huntin' up a new place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it&mdash;if I knew!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she did
+      not like to be called &ldquo;silly.&rdquo; Still, he was somebody besides&mdash;old
+      folks. &ldquo;Where did you live&mdash;before?&rdquo; she queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!&rdquo; sighed the boy
+      impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to be,&rdquo; retorted Pollyanna calmly, &ldquo;else I couldn't find out a
+      thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+      willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+      time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right then&mdash;here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old
+      goin' on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but
+      they've got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+      wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+      somewheres else&mdash;but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a home&mdash;jest
+      a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has
+      a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks since&mdash;dad died. So I'm
+      a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but&mdash;they didn't want me&mdash;though
+      I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is that all you want ter
+      know?&rdquo; The boy's voice had broken a little over the last two sentences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what a shame!&rdquo; sympathized Pollyanna. &ldquo;And didn't there anybody want
+      you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after&mdash;after my father
+      died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until Aunt
+      Polly said she'd take&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of a
+      wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know just the place for you,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Aunt Polly'll take you&mdash;I
+      know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy and Buffy,
+      when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to go?&mdash;and
+      they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take you! You
+      don't know how good and kind she is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!&rdquo; He
+      bared a small, bony arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the world&mdash;now
+      that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's rooms&mdash;heaps
+      of 'em,&rdquo; she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging at his arm.
+      &ldquo;It's an awful big house. Maybe, though,&rdquo; she added a little anxiously, as
+      they hurried on, &ldquo;maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at
+      first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so hot, and the flies
+      can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet. Did you
+      know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll let you read the book
+      if you're good&mdash;I mean, if you're bad. And you've got freckles, too,&rdquo;&mdash;with
+      a critical glance&mdash;&ldquo;so you'll be glad there isn't any looking-glass;
+      and the outdoor picture is nicer than any wall-one could be, so you won't
+      mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm sure,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, finding
+      suddenly that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than
+      talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gorry!&rdquo; exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+      admiringly. Then he added: &ldquo;I shouldn't think anybody who could talk like
+      that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time with!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that,&rdquo; she retorted; &ldquo;for when I'm
+      talking, YOU don't have to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her companion
+      straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she triumphed, &ldquo;just look a-here! I've got something
+      ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up. It's
+      a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at first, you
+      know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most of the time to
+      play with, I reckon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+      she thought she understood enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+      you find him?&rdquo; she demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;dirty little boy&rdquo; fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+      Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+      And he is dirty, too, isn't he?&mdash;I mean, the boy is&mdash;just like
+      Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve
+      all right by washing, just as they did, and&mdash;Oh, I 'most forgot
+      again,&rdquo; she broke off with a laugh. &ldquo;This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is he doing here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+      surprise. &ldquo;He's for you. I brought him home&mdash;so he could live here,
+      you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+      and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+      course he's even nicer than cats and dogs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+      throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+      With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+      erect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+      done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you must
+      needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+      up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+      fearlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was cal'latin'
+      ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have come ter your
+      old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me, a-tellin' me how
+      you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter take me in. So,
+      there!&rdquo; And he wheeled about and stalked from the room with a dignity that
+      would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; choked Pollyanna. &ldquo;Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to have
+      him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+      Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The &ldquo;good and kind&rdquo; of the boy's words
+      were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was almost upon
+      her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom of her will
+      power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; she cried sharply, &ldquo;WILL you stop using that everlasting word
+      'glad'! It's 'glad'&mdash;'glad'&mdash;'glad' from morning till night
+      until I think I shall grow wild!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she breathed, &ldquo;I should think you'd be glad to have me
+      gl&mdash;Oh!&rdquo; she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+      blindly from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how&mdash;how sorry I am,&rdquo; she
+      panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you,&rdquo; retorted the boy, sullenly. &ldquo;But I
+      ain't no beggar!&rdquo; he added, with sudden spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie,&rdquo; appealed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and I reckon I didn't
+      tell her much who you were. She is good and kind, really&mdash;she's
+      always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do wish I could
+      find some place for you, though!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+      illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this afternoon.
+      I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them. That's what
+      father always did, when he wanted anything&mdash;educating the heathen and
+      new carpets, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides&mdash;what is a Ladies'
+      Aid?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?&mdash;not to know
+      what a Ladies' Aid is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, all right&mdash;if you ain't tellin',&rdquo; grunted the boy, turning and
+      beginning to walk away indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's&mdash;it's&mdash;why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew
+      and give suppers and raise money and&mdash;and talk; that's what a Ladies'
+      Aid is. They're awfully kind&mdash;that is, most of mine was, back home. I
+      haven't seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going
+      to tell them about you this afternoon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the boy turned fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear a
+      whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you wouldn't be there,&rdquo; argued Pollyanna, quickly. &ldquo;I'd go alone,
+      of course, and tell them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'd tell it better this time,&rdquo; hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+      see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. &ldquo;And there'd be some of 'em,
+      I know, that would be glad to give you a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd work&mdash;don't forget ter say that,&rdquo; cautioned the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not,&rdquo; promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point was
+      gained. &ldquo;Then I'll let you know to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the road&mdash;where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll be there.&rdquo; The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see I
+      hain't no other place ter stay; and&mdash;and I didn't leave till this
+      mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+      they'd pretend I couldn't come&mdash;though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+      worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+      They don't CARE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. &ldquo;But I'm sure, when I
+      see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care all
+      ready for you. Good-by!&rdquo; she called brightly, as she turned back toward
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+      watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a bend
+      of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+      listlesly up-stairs&mdash;and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly.
+      In her ears still was the boy's scornful &ldquo;you was so good and kind.&rdquo; In
+      her heart was a curious sense of desolation&mdash;as of something lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent meal
+      on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried to
+      talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four times she
+      was obliged to break off a &ldquo;glad&rdquo; in the middle of it, much to her
+      blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, say it, if you want to,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I'm sure I'd
+      rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard&mdash;not to say it.
+      You see I've played it so long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've&mdash;what?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Played it&mdash;the game, you know, that father&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped
+      with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+      the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies' Aid
+      meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+      up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for
+      the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was not to
+      be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the
+      Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a
+      little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him that&mdash;before
+      the Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel next
+      the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+      therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want them all to be there,&rdquo; she said to herself; &ldquo;else the very one
+      that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy Bean
+      a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really&mdash;to
+      Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel steps,
+      pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of feminine
+      chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a brief
+      moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+      timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+      these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+      Ladies' Aid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?&rdquo; she faltered politely. &ldquo;I'm Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU&mdash;only
+      I don't know you all together this way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+      rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+      heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+      then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've come to&mdash;to lay the case before you,&rdquo; stammered
+      Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's
+      familiar phraseology.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a slight rustle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did&mdash;did your aunt send you, my dear?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Ford, the
+      minister's wife.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It was
+      Ladies' Aiders that brought me up&mdash;with father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it&mdash;it's Jimmy Bean,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;He hasn't any home
+      except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+      thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has a
+      mother instead of a Matron in it&mdash;folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+      ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him&mdash;to
+      live with you, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, did you ever!&rdquo; murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+      followed Pollyanna's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot to say; he will work,&rdquo; she supplemented eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to question
+      her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk among
+      themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+      not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was no
+      woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to think
+      that some of the others might take him, as there were several who had no
+      little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no one who
+      agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's wife suggest
+      timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his support and
+      education instead of sending quite so much money this year to the little
+      boys in far-away India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+      and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+      their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+      said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year. Some
+      of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not have
+      understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at all what
+      the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their society in a
+      certain &ldquo;report&rdquo; &ldquo;headed the list&rdquo;&mdash;and of course that could not be
+      what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and not quite
+      pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she found
+      herself outside in the hushed, sweet air&mdash;only she was very sorry,
+      too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+      tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they would
+      rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than to save
+      out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for which they
+      would not get &ldquo;a bit of credit in the report,&rdquo; according to the tall lady
+      who wore spectacles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+      shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+      as she trudged sorrowfully along. &ldquo;But they acted as if little boys HERE
+      weren't any account&mdash;only little boys 'way off. I should THINK,
+      though, they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow&mdash;than just a report!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the chapel.
+      She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had been a hard
+      day, for all it had been a &ldquo;vacation one&rdquo; (as she termed the infrequent
+      days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and Pollyanna was sure
+      that nothing would do her quite so much good as a walk through the green
+      quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed
+      steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway,&rdquo; she was telling
+      herself; &ldquo;and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the woods,
+      even if I do have to climb to get there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+      experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+      notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+      to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish they were up here&mdash;all those ladies who talked so loud,&rdquo;
+       sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+      between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. &ldquo;Anyhow, if they were up here,
+      I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little boy, all
+      right,&rdquo; she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to give a
+      reason for it, even to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked some
+      distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hullo, doggie&mdash;hullo!&rdquo; Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+      looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+      was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+      looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly, but
+      he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was still
+      barking&mdash;giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+      running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+      path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at once,
+      whining and barking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! That isn't the way home,&rdquo; laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+      main path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth, between
+      Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining pitifully.
+      Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from his
+      beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal&mdash;so eloquent that at
+      last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+      before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+      at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the side
+      path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+      head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine,&rdquo; snapped the man
+      irritably. &ldquo;See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have you got
+      any sense?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but&mdash;as was her habit&mdash;she
+      answered the questions literally, one by one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+      great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+      said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day&mdash;they didn't
+      know I heard, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+      confounded leg of mine. Now listen.&rdquo; He paused, and with some difficulty
+      reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of keys,
+      singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. &ldquo;Straight through the
+      path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key will admit you
+      to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know what a porte-cochere
+      is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof I
+      slept on&mdash;only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+      vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk in
+      the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to use a
+      telephone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind Aunt Polly now,&rdquo; cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+      move himself a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+      around there&mdash;it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+      probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+      one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+      names, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle Ledge
+      in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a stretcher
+      and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to come by the
+      path from the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!&rdquo; shuddered
+      Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I'm so glad I came! Can't <i>I</i> do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you can&mdash;but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+      and stop talking,&rdquo; moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+      cry, Pollyanna went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+      sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+      that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+      before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now at the
+      massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared verandas and
+      its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she sped across the
+      big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door under the
+      porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon the keys,
+      were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt in the lock;
+      but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its hinges.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she paused
+      a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide, sombre
+      hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's house; the
+      house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master entered; the
+      house which sheltered, somewhere&mdash;a skeleton. Yet she, Pollyanna, was
+      expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and telephone the doctor
+      that the master of the house lay now&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+      fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the hall;
+      but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold across the
+      floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the fireplace, and
+      touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in the middle of the
+      room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly tiptoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But Pollyanna
+      found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's to
+      &ldquo;Chilton.&rdquo; In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end of the
+      wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering the
+      doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the receiver
+      and drew a long breath of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+      vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+      floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+      conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+      through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had left
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+      Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course I could! I'm HERE,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;As if I'd be here if I
+      hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as possible
+      with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were, so I didn't
+      stay to show him. I wanted to be with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you?&rdquo; smiled the man, grimly. &ldquo;Well, I can't say I admire your taste.
+      I should think you might find pleasanter companions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean&mdash;because you're so&mdash;cross?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks for your frankness. Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're only cross OUTSIDE&mdash;You arn't cross inside a bit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! How do you know that?&rdquo; asked the man, trying to change the
+      position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, lots of ways; there&mdash;like that&mdash;the way you act with the
+      dog,&rdquo; she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the
+      dog's sleek head near him. &ldquo;It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides
+      of folks better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your
+      head,&rdquo; she finished abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change was
+      being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+      substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that is&mdash;better,&rdquo; he murmured faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+      wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if his
+      lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself almost
+      cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there so
+      helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+      motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+      wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west and
+      the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she hardly
+      seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of her hand,
+      and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost under her
+      nose&mdash;yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the motionless
+      dog.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he gave a
+      short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+      their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+      articles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tallest of the party&mdash;a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom
+      Pollyanna knew by sight as &ldquo;Dr. Chilton&rdquo;&mdash;advanced cheerily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my little lady, playing nurse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've only held his head&mdash;I haven't
+      given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+      injured man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+      John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy met her at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,&rdquo; she sighed in
+      obvious relief. &ldquo;It's half-past six!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna anxiously; &ldquo;but I'm not to blame&mdash;truly
+      I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She won't have the chance,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+      &ldquo;She's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone!&rdquo; gasped Pollyanna. &ldquo;You don't mean that I've driven her away?&rdquo;
+       Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories of the
+      morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome &ldquo;glad&rdquo; and
+      forbidden &ldquo;father&rdquo; that would spring to her forgetful little tongue. &ldquo;Oh,
+      I DIDN'T drive her away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much you did,&rdquo; scoffed Nancy. &ldquo;Her cousin died suddenly down to
+      Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+      after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three days.
+      Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest
+      you and me, all that time. We will, we will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss
+      Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+      game,&rdquo; she reproached her gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't help it, Nancy,&rdquo; she argued with a shake of her head. &ldquo;It must be
+      that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game on&mdash;and
+      I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral to be glad
+      about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We can be glad 'tain't our'n,&rdquo; she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+      not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+      open-mouthed, was listening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+      according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+      keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, maybe 'tis natural,&rdquo; he sighed. &ldquo;Of course things you don't know
+      about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+      side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter
+      somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody over
+      in India wanted ME?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+      Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West&mdash;but
+      that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+      come all the way here as I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy's face brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think they would&mdash;truly&mdash;take me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring up?
+      Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time. I reckon
+      you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait. I'll write
+      'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got
+      the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most&mdash;which is kind of
+      funny, isn't it?&mdash;when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+      Aiders will take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right&mdash;but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an'
+      keep,&rdquo; put in Jimmy. &ldquo;I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even
+      with Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.&rdquo; He hesitated, then added: &ldquo;An' I
+      s'pose I better stay where I be fur a spell yet&mdash;till you hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna emphatically. &ldquo;Then I'll know just where to
+      find you. And they'll take you&mdash;I'm sure you're far enough away for
+      that. Didn't Aunt Polly take&mdash;Say!&rdquo; she broke off, suddenly, &ldquo;DO you
+      suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,&rdquo; grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+      said to her aunt one morning:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+      calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow wouldn't&mdash;this
+      once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?&rdquo; sighed her aunt. &ldquo;You ARE
+      the most extraordinary child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+      can't be ORdinary, can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You certainly can not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, her face clearing. &ldquo;You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs. Rawson
+      was a very ordinary woman&mdash;and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+      awful. They were always fight&mdash;I mean, father had&mdash;that is, I
+      mean, WE had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between
+      any of the rest of the Aiders,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless
+      from her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands
+      in regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+      present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, never mind,&rdquo; interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle impatiently.
+      &ldquo;You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're talking about you
+      always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, &ldquo;I reckon I do, maybe. But you see
+      they used to bring me up, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna,&rdquo; interrupted a cold voice. &ldquo;Now what is it about
+      this jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+      take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM&mdash;this once. You see,
+      broken legs aren't like&mdash;like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+      forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+      after just once or twice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+      were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods, you
+      know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and the
+      doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came away
+      and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs. Snow
+      this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him instead
+      of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I suppose so,&rdquo; acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. &ldquo;Who
+      did you say he was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;JOHN PENDLETON!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do YOU know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles&mdash;now. He's only cross OUTSIDE,
+      you know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+      in,&rdquo; finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've changed
+      my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day&mdash;as
+      usual. That is all. You may go now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+      things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last&mdash;I
+      mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,&rdquo;
+       said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but&mdash;I do not care to be sending
+      jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, he is cross&mdash;outside,&rdquo; admitted Pollyanna, sadly, &ldquo;so I
+      suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say
+      'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped, and
+      asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know who you&mdash;are, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me it&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does he know where you&mdash;live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no. I never told him that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he doesn't know you're my&mdash;niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna with
+      eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+      impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+      Polly roused herself with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+      unlike her own; &ldquo;you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+      own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does not
+      think I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm&mdash;no'm&mdash;thank you, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; exulted Pollyanna, as she
+      flew through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when she
+      made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows were
+      open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard, and the
+      doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the bell&mdash;her
+      fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch of keys.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but there
+      was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the clothes
+      opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo;
+       smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+      hand. &ldquo;Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+      and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?&rdquo; he asked genially. &ldquo;That will be fine! Maybe
+      you'd like to see our patient, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, sir,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+      from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+      vast surprise on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+      gave a disturbed exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit&mdash;any
+      one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded the doctor, imperturbably. &ldquo;But I'm giving orders now.
+      I'll take the risk.&rdquo; Then he added whimsically: &ldquo;You don't know, of
+      course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+      any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton this
+      afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is Pollyanna
+      Whittier. I&mdash;I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+      acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients do&mdash;I'm
+      thankful to say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this wonder-working&mdash;tonic
+      of hers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+      unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+      happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated to
+      me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor of most
+      of them. All is,&rdquo; he added, with another whimsical smile, as he stepped
+      out on to the porch, &ldquo;I wish I could prescribe her&mdash;and buy her&mdash;as
+      I would a box of pills;&mdash;though if there gets to be many of her in
+      the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and ditch-digging
+      for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,&rdquo; he laughed,
+      picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+      escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+      as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+      had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+      same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk, and
+      not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in its
+      proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+      mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+      way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+      bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please, sir, here&mdash;here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+      doctor said I was to&mdash;to bring her in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+      man lying flat on his back in bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, didn't I say&mdash;&rdquo; began an angry voice. &ldquo;Oh, it's you!&rdquo; it
+      broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna. &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see, at
+      first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't going to
+      see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might. Wasn't he
+      lovely to let me see you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he said
+      was &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I've brought you some jelly,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna; &ldquo;&mdash;calf's-foot.
+      I hope you like it?&rdquo; There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never ate it.&rdquo; The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+      to the man's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but it
+      cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+      anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if you
+      knew&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that I'm
+      flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay here&mdash;till
+      doomsday, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+      blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it will&mdash;oh,
+      of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than we think, but I
+      don't think it will&mdash;that is, of course I believe the Bible; but I
+      mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would if it should
+      come now, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton laughed suddenly&mdash;and aloud. The nurse, coming in at
+      that moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried&mdash;but a very silent&mdash;retreat.
+      He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath of
+      cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aren't you getting a little mixed?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last&mdash;broken ones, you
+      know&mdash;like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours
+      won't last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I am,&rdquo; retorted the man grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two.&rdquo; Pollyanna
+      was warming to her task.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course! So fortunate,&rdquo; sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+      &ldquo;looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't a
+      centipede and didn't break fifty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's the best yet,&rdquo; she crowed. &ldquo;I know what a centipede is;
+      they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, of course,&rdquo; interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+      coming back to his voice; &ldquo;I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I suppose&mdash;the
+      nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the kitchen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, sir&mdash;only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have
+      them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em&mdash;and
+      you lying here like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+      matter,&rdquo; retorted the man, testily, &ldquo;because I am lying here like this!
+      And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+      disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who aids
+      and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the doctor
+      who eggs 'em both on&mdash;and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+      expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad&mdash;about the money&mdash;when you've
+      been saving it, too, all this time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When&mdash;eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saving it&mdash;buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+      beans?&mdash;or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+      cents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your money, you know&mdash;denying yourself, and saving it for the
+      heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one of
+      the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's jaw dropped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy told you I was saving money for the&mdash;Well, may I inquire who
+      Nancy is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made a sudden movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss&mdash;Polly&mdash;Harrington!&rdquo; he breathed. &ldquo;You live with&mdash;HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up&mdash;on account of my
+      mother, you know,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. &ldquo;She was her
+      sister. And after father&mdash;went to be with her and the rest of us in
+      Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid; so
+      she took me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+      very white&mdash;so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose
+      uncertainly to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon maybe I'd better go now,&rdquo; she proposed. &ldquo;I&mdash;I hope you'll
+      like&mdash;the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a curious
+      longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at which she
+      marvelled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you are&mdash;Miss Polly Harrington's niece,&rdquo; he said gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+      vaguely restless, murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I suppose you know&mdash;her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes; I know her.&rdquo; He hesitated, then went on, still with that curious
+      smile. &ldquo;But&mdash;you don't mean&mdash;you can't mean that it was Miss
+      Polly Harrington who sent that jelly&mdash;to me?&rdquo; he said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you think
+      she did send it. But I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+      And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The nurse
+      stood on the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?&rdquo; asked
+      the doctor smilingly. &ldquo;I started to drive on a few minutes ago; then it
+      occurred to me that I'd wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride,&rdquo; beamed Pollyanna,
+      as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you?&rdquo; smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young man
+      on the steps. &ldquo;Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many things
+      you 'love' to do&mdash;eh?&rdquo; he added, as they drove briskly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;I like to
+      do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other things
+      very well&mdash;sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+      aren't LIVING.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No? What are they, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, with a
+      rueful smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled now&mdash;a little queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does she? Well, I should think she might say&mdash;just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; responded Pollyanna. &ldquo;But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+      think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I'm afraid some of us&mdash;do have to, little girl,&rdquo; he said.
+      Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at his face,
+      felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished, uneasily, that
+      she could &ldquo;do something.&rdquo; It was this, perhaps, that caused her to say in
+      a timid voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+      kind of a business there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Gladdest'!&mdash;when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?&rdquo;
+       he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; but you're HELPING it&mdash;don't you see?&mdash;and of course
+      you're glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us,
+      all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was a
+      singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room office
+      in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking now into
+      Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been suddenly
+      laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again would a long
+      day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without that new-found
+      exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God bless you, little girl,&rdquo; he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+      smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: &ldquo;And I'm thinking,
+      after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+      needed a draft of that tonic!&rdquo; All of which puzzled Pollyanna very much&mdash;until
+      a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter from her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+      sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,&rdquo; announced
+      Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. &ldquo;He's lovely, Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+      gladdest one there was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What!&mdash;goin' ter see sick folks&mdash;an' folks what ain't sick but
+      thinks they is, which is worse?&rdquo; Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad, even
+      then. Guess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this game
+      of &ldquo;being glad&rdquo; quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+      studying out Pollyanna's &ldquo;posers,&rdquo; too, as she called some of the little
+      girl's questions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know,&rdquo; she chuckled. &ldquo;It's just the opposite from what you told
+      Mis' Snow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Opposite?&rdquo; repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like her&mdash;all
+      sick, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks&mdash;the
+      sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,&rdquo; finished Nancy in triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+      way I said; and&mdash;someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it.
+      It isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but&mdash;You
+      do play the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed, as she went into
+      the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who was that man&mdash;the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+       questioned the lady a little sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! What was he doing&mdash;here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You TOLD him I didn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+      that he did not think I DID!&mdash;which is a very different matter from
+      TELLING him outright that I did not send it.&rdquo; And she turned vexedly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as
+      she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+      which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+      committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+      o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by the
+      damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened pins had
+      given leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too,&rdquo; she cried
+      rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+      sitting room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got what, you impossible child?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+      they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?&mdash;'fore I get to Heaven, I
+      mean,&rdquo; she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks above
+      her ears. &ldquo;But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You can't
+      hide the black part.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what does all this mean?&rdquo; demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+      removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;please, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to
+      one of distressed appeal. &ldquo;Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm
+      talking about&mdash;those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly,
+      they're so pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+      other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it isn't nonsense,&rdquo; urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of her
+      aunt's remarks. &ldquo;You don't know how pretty you look with your hair like
+      that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+      Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+      be ever so much prettier than she was!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; (Miss Polly spoke very sharply&mdash;all the more sharply
+      because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+      had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+      &ldquo;loved&rdquo; to see her &ldquo;pretty&rdquo;?) &ldquo;Pollyanna, you did not answer my question.
+      Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went and
+      found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then I wrote
+      to MY Ladies' Aiders&mdash;'cause Jimmy is far away from them, you know;
+      and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same as&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL let me do
+      your hair, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat&mdash;the old, helpless feeling was
+      upon her, she knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+      them, I was so ashamed! I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You didn't!&mdash;You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair,&rdquo; she crowed
+      triumphantly; &ldquo;and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round, sort of&mdash;like
+      it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you didn't send, but
+      didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now wait just where you
+      are. I'll get a comb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,&rdquo; remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the little
+      girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did you come up here?&rdquo; Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+      Polly's own room. &ldquo;That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit down,
+      please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+      found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her hair
+      already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got,&rdquo; prattled Pollyanna; &ldquo;and there's so
+      much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need more,
+      anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks can see it.
+      My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it&mdash;and surprised,
+      too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make you so
+      pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm
+      sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to look
+      at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much happier
+      when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other kind I'm so
+      sorry for them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I just love to do folks' hair,&rdquo; purred Pollyanna, contentedly. &ldquo;I did
+      quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'&mdash;but there wasn't any of them so
+      nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked just
+      lovely one day when I dressed her up in&mdash;Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+      happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell. Now
+      your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you just a
+      minute; and you must promise&mdash;promise&mdash;PROMISE not to stir nor
+      peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!&rdquo; she finished, as she ran from
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+      should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+      hair up properly again. As for &ldquo;peeking&rdquo; just as if she cared how&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At that moment&mdash;unaccountably&mdash;Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
+      herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a
+      flush of rosy color to her cheeks that&mdash;she only flushed the more at
+      the sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw a face&mdash;not young, it is true&mdash;but just now alight with
+      excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes sparkled.
+      The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay in loose waves
+      about the forehead and curved back over the ears in wonderfully becoming
+      lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+      that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+      heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+      felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+      you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+      take but just a minute, then I'll let you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna,&rdquo; began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, &ldquo;you
+      must take this off! You&mdash;child, child! what ARE you doing?&rdquo; she
+      gasped, as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she was
+      draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful lace
+      shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+      lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+      been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+      was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+      should not be &ldquo;dressed up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+      but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled her
+      aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose blooming
+      on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?&rdquo; recoiled Aunt
+      Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. &ldquo;Pollyanna, I shall not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's just to the sun parlor&mdash;only a minute! I'll have you ready now
+      quicker'n no time,&rdquo; panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and thrusting
+      it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she exulted,
+      untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit of linen far
+      from her. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I dressed you up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+      surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+      following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through the
+      open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+      driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+      she leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; smiled the doctor, a little gravely. &ldquo;Will you come down, please?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman plucking
+      at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, how could you?&rdquo; moaned the woman. &ldquo;To think of your rigging me
+      up like this, and then letting me&mdash;BE SEEN!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you looked lovely&mdash;perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Lovely'!&rdquo; scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+      attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay? Like this? As if I would!&rdquo; And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+      tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+      fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And you did look so pretty,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+      stumbled through the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+      prescription filled,&rdquo; announced the doctor. &ldquo;Will you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;an errand&mdash;to the drug store?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna, a
+      little uncertainly. &ldquo;I used to go some&mdash;for the Ladies' Aiders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day, if
+      you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down after
+      you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before six
+      o'clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd love to!&rdquo; exclaimed Pollyanna. &ldquo;Let me ask Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't&mdash;your aunt want you to go?&rdquo; asked the doctor, a little
+      diffidently, as they drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Y-yes,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna. &ldquo;She&mdash;she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+      afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+      'Yes, yes, run along, run along&mdash;do! I wish you'd gone before.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled&mdash;but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave.
+      For some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wasn't it&mdash;your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago&mdash;in the
+      window of the sun parlor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed her
+      up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed her
+      hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think she
+      looked just lovely?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was so
+      low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Pollyanna, I&mdash;I thought she did look&mdash;just lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her,&rdquo; nodded the little girl,
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never! Pollyanna, I&mdash;I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+      her&mdash;that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she might not be,&rdquo; cut in the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's so&mdash;maybe she wouldn't,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;I remember now; 'twas
+      'cause she saw you that she ran. And she&mdash;she spoke afterwards about
+      her being seen in that rig.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; declared the doctor, under his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still, I don't see why,&rdquo; maintained Pollyanna, &ldquo;&mdash;when she looked so
+      pretty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they were
+      almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a broken
+      leg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. &ldquo;JUST LIKE A BOOK&rdquo;
+     </h2>
+    <h3>
+      John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+      person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see why
+      I shouldn't be, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+      other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when you
+      found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't think I've
+      ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would admit that you
+      were very forgiving to come and see me, after such ungrateful treatment as
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I was glad to find you&mdash;that is, I don't mean I was glad your
+      leg was broken, of course,&rdquo; she corrected hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while, doesn't
+      it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you a very
+      brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for the jelly,
+      too,&rdquo; he added in a lighter voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you like it?&rdquo; asked Pollyanna with interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much. I suppose&mdash;there isn't any more to-day that&mdash;that
+      Aunt Polly DIDN'T send, is there?&rdquo; he asked with an odd smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no, sir.&rdquo; She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. &ldquo;Please,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+      Polly did NOT send the jelly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+      straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+      beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and turned
+      to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous fretfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see me
+      moping this time. Listen! Out in the library&mdash;the big room where the
+      telephone is, you know&mdash;you will find a carved box on the lower shelf
+      of the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+      That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated' it to
+      somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too heavy for
+      you to carry, I think.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm awfully strong,&rdquo; declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang to
+      her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was full
+      of treasures&mdash;curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+      travel&mdash;and concerning each there was some entertaining story,
+      whether it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a
+      little jade idol from India.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+      murmured wistfully:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to bring
+      up&mdash;one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in that
+      doll-thing&mdash;than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+      knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+      Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring straight
+      before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself, and had
+      picked up another curio to talk about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+      Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides the
+      wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking of
+      herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+      talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+      Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm lonesome,
+      and I need you. There's another reason&mdash;and I'm going to tell you
+      that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were, the other
+      day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded me of&mdash;of
+      something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said to myself that
+      I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the doctor asked if I
+      wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that&mdash;that
+      the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+      vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+      Will you&mdash;little girl?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+      sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. &ldquo;I'd
+      love to come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; said John Pendleton, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+      Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+      more wonderful things it contained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ter think,&rdquo; sighed Nancy, &ldquo;that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+      told ye about 'em like that&mdash;him that's so cross he never talks ter
+      no one&mdash;no one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside,&rdquo; demurred Pollyanna, with
+      quick loyalty. &ldquo;I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either. They
+      wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him very
+      well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so afraid
+      he'd think she did send it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably she didn't call him no duty,&rdquo; shrugged Nancy. &ldquo;But what beats me
+      is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna&mdash;meanin' no
+      offence ter you, of course&mdash;but he ain't the sort o' man what
+      gen'rally takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he did, Nancy,&rdquo; she nodded, &ldquo;only I reckon even he didn't want to&mdash;ALL
+      the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he just felt he never
+      wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of something he wanted to
+      forget. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's that?&rdquo; interrupted Nancy, excitedly. &ldquo;He said you reminded him of
+      something he wanted to forget?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. But afterwards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it?&rdquo; Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't tell me. He just said it was something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;THE MYSTERY!&rdquo; breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. &ldquo;That's why he took
+      to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just like a
+      book&mdash;I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+      Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'&mdash;all of 'em had mysteries and things
+      just like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+      right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+      tell me everythin'&mdash;everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a
+      dear! No wonder he took ter you; no wonder&mdash;no wonder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he didn't,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna, &ldquo;not till <i>I</i> talked to HIM, first.
+      And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+      had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know&mdash;I KNOW I know!&rdquo; she exulted
+      rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again. &ldquo;Tell
+      me&mdash;now think, and answer straight and true,&rdquo; she urged excitedly.
+      &ldquo;It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+      didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+      to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought as much,&rdquo; triumphed Nancy. &ldquo;And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+      jelly herself, would she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you told him she didn't send it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes; I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you was
+      her niece. He did that, didn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer&mdash;over that jelly,&rdquo; admitted
+      Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy drew a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+      HARRINGTON'S LOVER!&rdquo; she announced impressively, but with a furtive glance
+      over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him,&rdquo; objected Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+      happily settled herself to tell the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had had
+      a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't&mdash;her and a lover! But
+      Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+      NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in his
+      life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never speak
+      ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss Polly's
+      niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of somethin' he
+      wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas Miss Polly!&mdash;an'
+      her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why, Miss Pollyanna, it's
+      as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. &ldquo;But, Nancy, I should
+      think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both of 'em all
+      alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to make up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You ain't
+      big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the world that
+      wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n, it'd be a pair
+      o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he cross as sticks,
+      most gen'rally?&mdash;and ain't she&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about whom,
+      she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+      slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it&mdash;so they
+      WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some&mdash;Miss
+      Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+      her face was very thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+      great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her visits
+      were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her there&mdash;he
+      sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was there, he seemed
+      scarcely any the happier for her presence&mdash;at least, so Pollyanna
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+      beautiful things&mdash;books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+      audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+      and &ldquo;regulatings&rdquo; of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+      indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+      talked, Pollyanna liked to talk&mdash;but she was never sure that she
+      would not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white,
+      hurt look that always pained her; and she was never sure which&mdash;if
+      any&mdash;of her words had brought it there. As for telling him the &ldquo;glad
+      game,&rdquo; and trying to get him to play it&mdash;Pollyanna had never seen the
+      time yet when she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice
+      tried to tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of
+      what her father had said&mdash;John Pendleton had on each occasion turned
+      the conversation abruptly to another subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+      one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart, she
+      wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her mind&mdash;miserably
+      lonely lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked to Mr.
+      Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely, sometimes
+      irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually stern lips.
+      She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton&mdash;or rather, she tried to
+      talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly would not
+      listen&mdash;long. She always found something else to talk about. She
+      frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of others&mdash;of
+      Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to the fact that
+      it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor with the rose
+      in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders. Aunt Polly,
+      indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as Pollyanna found
+      out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,&rdquo; Aunt Polly
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse,&rdquo; gurgled Pollyanna. &ldquo;I'd love to
+      have Dr. Chilton come to see me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna,&rdquo; Miss Polly said sternly. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren&mdash;if
+      you are worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, too,&rdquo; Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. &ldquo;Of
+      course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better, and
+      I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't really
+      to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed you up
+      so pretty that day, Aunt Polly,&rdquo; she finished wistfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr. Chilton&mdash;or
+      his feelings,&rdquo; reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes; then
+      she sighed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+      but I would so like to fix your hair. If&mdash;Why, Aunt Polly!&rdquo; But her
+      aunt was already out of sight down the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+      call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and green
+      edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped short in
+      awed delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow&mdash;a real rainbow come in to
+      pay you a visit!&rdquo; she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly. &ldquo;Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh,
+      how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+      sorts with the world this morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+      thermometer in the window,&rdquo; he said wearily. &ldquo;The sun shouldn't strike it
+      at all but it does in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that? My!
+      if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then,&rdquo; laughed the man.
+      &ldquo;How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was, if
+      the thermometer hung in the sun all day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't care,&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+      brilliant band of colors across the pillow. &ldquo;Just as if anybody'd care
+      when they were living all the time in a rainbow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little curiously.
+      Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nora,&rdquo; he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, &ldquo;bring me one
+      of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front drawing-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute she
+      had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she advanced
+      wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants encircling the
+      old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. You may set it here on the stand,&rdquo; directed the man. &ldquo;Now get
+      a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window there.
+      Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight across the
+      window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you,&rdquo; he said, when she
+      had carried out his directions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+      pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by side,
+      on the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+      Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow&mdash;I
+      don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+      before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+      then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up the
+      rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a low
+      cry of delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had become a fairyland&mdash;that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+      Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange, gold and
+      blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed itself, were
+      aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!&rdquo; breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+      &ldquo;I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't you?&rdquo;
+       she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not know
+      what she was talking about. &ldquo;Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those things!
+      How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow and&mdash;lots
+      of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think even Aunt
+      Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she lived in a
+      rainbow like that. Don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+      think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight to&mdash;to
+      make her bang many doors&mdash;for gladness. But come, now, really, what
+      do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you tell me, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from the
+      very first&mdash;from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+      talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+      dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that's all,&rdquo; she sighed, when she had finished. &ldquo;And now you know why
+      I said the sun was trying to play it&mdash;that game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+      unsteadily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+      yourself, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+      shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you?&rdquo; smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+      wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: &ldquo;I'm afraid,
+      Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me. Aunt
+      Polly says it DOES make them!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh had
+      sounded almost like a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+      that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+      happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+      certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They were
+      soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna confessed
+      that going to school WAS living, after all&mdash;though she had had her
+      doubts before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her old
+      friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of course;
+      but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton, of them
+      all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?&rdquo; he
+      asked, a little impatiently. &ldquo;I don't see anything of you, nowadays.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed&mdash;Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made a wry face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+      yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll be on
+      my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps around,&rdquo;
+       he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and shaking it
+      playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great library
+      to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you are,&rdquo;
+       pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire. &ldquo;You know
+      you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton&mdash;you know you
+      don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's why I want you, little girl&mdash;to help me play it. Will you
+      come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do. I want you. Will you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't&mdash;you know I can't. Why, I'm&mdash;Aunt
+      Polly's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're no more hers than&mdash;Perhaps she would let you come to me,&rdquo; he
+      finished more gently. &ldquo;Would you come&mdash;if she did?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly has been so&mdash;good to me,&rdquo; she began slowly; &ldquo;and she
+      took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time, when
+      he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+      her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in our
+      home all the long years to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+      that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been a
+      house&mdash;never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+      presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+      you come, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton, you&mdash;you mean that you wish you&mdash;you had had
+      that woman's hand and heart all this time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, y-yes, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right,&rdquo; sighed the little girl. &ldquo;Now you
+      can take us both, and everything will be lovely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;you&mdash;both?&rdquo; repeated the man, dazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will be
+      if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come, of
+      course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly come&mdash;HERE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you rather go THERE?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Of course the house isn't quite
+      so pretty, but it's nearer&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?&rdquo; asked the man, very gently now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, about where we're going to live, of course,&rdquo; rejoined Pollyanna, in
+      obvious surprise. &ldquo;I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it was
+      here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years to
+      make a home, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+      began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at his
+      side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor, sir,&rdquo; said the maid in the doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you&mdash;yet,&rdquo;
+       he begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her yourself!&rdquo;
+       she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what's up?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on his
+      patient's galloping pulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Overdose of your&mdash;tonic, I guess,&rdquo; he laughed, as he noted the
+      doctor's eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+      Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+      planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+      Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook her
+      in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he suggested. &ldquo;I want to
+      speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to tell you,&rdquo;
+       he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton sent
+      a special request for you to go to see him this afternoon, SURE. He says
+      it's very important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded happily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is, I know. I'll go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not sure I shall let you, after all,&rdquo; he declared, his eyes
+      twinkling. &ldquo;You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+      lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it wasn't me, truly&mdash;not really, you know; not so much as it was
+      Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor turned with a quick start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your&mdash;aunt!&rdquo; he ejaculated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know. I&mdash;I'm
+      going to tell you,&rdquo; she burst out, with sudden decision. &ldquo;He said not to
+      mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He meant not to
+      mention it to HER.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HER?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself instead
+      of having me do it&mdash;lovers, so!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&rdquo; As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as if
+      the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, happily. &ldquo;That's the story-part, you see. I
+      didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+      ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+      found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to his
+      lap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! No; I&mdash;didn't know,&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna hurried on&mdash;they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked me to
+      come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly like
+      that&mdash;after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about the
+      woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+      wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up the
+      quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both
+      go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course Aunt Polly
+      doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I suppose that
+      is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does&mdash;want to see
+      you, Pollyanna,&rdquo; he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the
+      door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's Aunt Polly now in the window,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+      later: &ldquo;Why, no, she isn't&mdash;but I thought I saw her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she isn't there&mdash;now,&rdquo; said the doctor, His lips had suddenly
+      lost their smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+      afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once. &ldquo;I've been trying all night to puzzle out
+      what you meant by all that, yesterday&mdash;about my wanting your Aunt
+      Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you still
+      felt that way now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lovers!&mdash;your Aunt Polly and I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man gave a short little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy&mdash;didn't
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you&mdash;weren't lovers?&rdquo; Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;O dear! And it was all going so splendidly,&rdquo; almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+      &ldquo;I'd have been so glad to come&mdash;with Aunt Polly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you won't&mdash;now?&rdquo; The man asked the question without turning his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were&mdash;your mother's. And&mdash;it
+      was your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My mother's!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+      that I do&mdash;now.&rdquo; John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He was
+      speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and frightened,
+      and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. &ldquo;I loved your mother; but
+      she&mdash;didn't love me. And after a time she went away with&mdash;your
+      father. I did not know until then how much I did&mdash;care. The whole
+      world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and&mdash;But, never
+      mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable, unloved old
+      man&mdash;though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, One day, like
+      one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my
+      life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the purple and gold
+      and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out, after a time, who
+      you were, and&mdash;and I thought then I never wanted to see you again. I
+      didn't want to be reminded of&mdash;your mother. But&mdash;you know how
+      that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you always.
+      Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Mr. Pendleton, I&mdash;There's Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were
+      blurred with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man made an impatient gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about anything&mdash;without
+      you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that I've been even half
+      glad to live! But if I had you for my own little girl, I'd be glad for&mdash;anything;
+      and I'd try to make you glad, too, my dear. You shouldn't have a wish
+      ungratified. All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked shocked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me&mdash;all that money
+      you've saved for the heathen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna was
+      still talking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me to
+      make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving them
+      things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look at those
+      prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her
+      birthday, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes&mdash;never mind about all that,&rdquo; interrupted the man. His face
+      was very, very red now&mdash;and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for
+      &ldquo;giving things&rdquo; that John Pendleton had been best known in the past.
+      &ldquo;That's all nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow&mdash;but what there was, was
+      because of you. YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,&rdquo; he repeated,
+      in answer to the shocked denial in her face. &ldquo;And that only goes to prove
+      all the more how I need you, little girl,&rdquo; he added, his voice softening
+      into tender pleading once more. &ldquo;If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad
+      game,' Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly has been so good to me,&rdquo; she began; but the man interrupted
+      her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+      which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's nature
+      too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll warrant,
+      half so much as I do,&rdquo; he contested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. &ldquo;I'll
+      wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad&mdash;for anything! Oh, she
+      does her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience
+      with her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of
+      friends for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one
+      knows her&mdash;and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know
+      how to be. As for your coming to me&mdash;you just ask her and see if she
+      won't let you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!&rdquo; he
+      finished brokenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll ask her,&rdquo; she said wistfully. &ldquo;Of course I don't mean
+      that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but&mdash;&rdquo; She
+      did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+      added: &ldquo;Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;&mdash;'cause
+      then I supposed SHE was wanted, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention it&mdash;yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't&mdash;only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The doctor!&rdquo; cried John Pendleton, turning quickly. &ldquo;Not&mdash;Dr.&mdash;Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, of all the&mdash;&rdquo; muttered the man, falling back in his chair.
+      Then he sat up with sudden interest. &ldquo;And what did Dr. Chilton say?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+      imagine you did want to see me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, did he, indeed!&rdquo; answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered why
+      he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching thunder
+      shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendleton's house.
+      Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that time, however, the
+      clouds had shifted their position and the shower was not so imminent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north,&rdquo; announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+      critically. &ldquo;I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+      come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was she?&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy sniffed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't seem ter notice what I said,&rdquo; she observed aggrievedly. &ldquo;I said
+      yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so soon
+      to ask her aunt. &ldquo;I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm glad,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. &ldquo;I am, I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna stared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the way
+      to play the game&mdash;to be glad for things like that!&rdquo; she objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There wa'n't no game in it,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;Never thought of it. YOU
+      don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+      child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it means worried&mdash;and worried is horrid&mdash;to feel,&rdquo;
+       maintained Pollyanna. &ldquo;What else can it mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy tossed her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+      somewheres near human&mdash;like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+      duty by ye all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Nancy,&rdquo; demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, &ldquo;Aunt Polly always does
+      her duty. She&mdash;she's a very dutiful woman!&rdquo; Unconsciously Pollyanna
+      repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're right she is&mdash;and she always was, I guess! But she's
+      somethin' more, now, since you came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;Do you
+      think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind&mdash;if if I
+      wasn't here any more?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+      expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded it.
+      She had wondered how she should answer it&mdash;how she could answer it
+      honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in the face
+      of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the afternoon's
+      umbrella-sending&mdash;Nancy only welcomed the question with open arms.
+      She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set the
+      love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?&rdquo; cried
+      Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+      Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+      cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+      you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+      remember how at first she hated ter have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,&rdquo; rushed on
+      Nancy, breathlessly. &ldquo;It's little ways she has, that shows how you've been
+      softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down&mdash;the cat, and the dog, and
+      the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+      there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye&mdash;if ye wa'n't here,&rdquo;
+       finished Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to
+      hide the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was
+      not quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad&mdash;glad&mdash;glad! You don't know how glad I
+      am that Aunt Polly&mdash;wants me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I'd leave her now!&rdquo; thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs to
+      her room a little later. &ldquo;I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt Polly&mdash;but
+      I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt Polly&mdash;to
+      want to live with ME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an easy
+      one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+      Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him&mdash;because he seemed to be so
+      sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that had
+      made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of her
+      mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great gray
+      house as it would be after its master was well again, with its silent
+      rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart ached for
+      his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be found who&mdash;And
+      it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a little cry of joy
+      at the thought that had come to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+      Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+      library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+      hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog at
+      his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of my
+      life?&rdquo; asked the man, gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; cried Pollyanna. &ldquo;I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+      thing for you to do, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With&mdash;YOU?&rdquo; asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern
+      at the corners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-no; but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!&rdquo; interrupted a voice deep with
+      emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she REFUSE&mdash;to let you&mdash;come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I didn't ask her,&rdquo; stammered the little girl, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved gaze
+      of her friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you didn't even ask her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't, sir&mdash;truly,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. &ldquo;You see, I found out&mdash;without
+      asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and&mdash;and I want to stay, too,&rdquo;
+       she confessed bravely. &ldquo;You don't know how good she's been to me; and&mdash;and
+      I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad about things&mdash;lots
+      of things. And you know she never used to be. You said it yourself. Oh,
+      Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+      broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her&mdash;now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      won't ask you&mdash;again.&rdquo; The last word was so low it was almost
+      inaudible; but Pollyanna heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it,&rdquo; she reminded him eagerly.
+      &ldquo;There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do&mdash;truly there is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not for me, Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a&mdash;a woman's hand and
+      heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for you&mdash;a
+      child's presence;&mdash;not me, you know, but another one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if I would have any but you!&rdquo; resented an indignant voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will&mdash;when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of
+      the prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the
+      heathen, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; interrupted the man, savagely. &ldquo;Once for all let us end that
+      nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There is no
+      money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life. There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected&mdash;the
+      grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+      there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There was
+      only surprised joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh!&rdquo; she cried, clapping her hands. &ldquo;I'm so glad! That is,&rdquo; she
+      corrected, coloring distressfully, &ldquo;I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+      the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want the
+      little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm glad
+      you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take&mdash;WHO?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+      to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+      wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now&mdash;when he hears
+      of this&mdash;he'll be so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will he? Well, I won't,&rdquo; ejaculated the man, decisively. &ldquo;Pollyanna, this
+      is sheer nonsense!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;you won't take him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly do mean just that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he'd be a lovely child's presence,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna. She was
+      almost crying now. &ldquo;And you COULDN'T be lonesome&mdash;with Jimmy 'round.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't doubt it,&rdquo; rejoined the man; &ldquo;but&mdash;I think I prefer the
+      lonesomeness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+      remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+      aggrievedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+      dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SKELETON?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what&mdash;&rdquo; Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+      laughed very heartily indeed&mdash;so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+      from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+      promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I suspect you are right&mdash;more right than you know,&rdquo; he
+      said gently. &ldquo;In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+      better than&mdash;my skeleton in the closet; only&mdash;we aren't always
+      willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to&mdash;our
+      skeletons, Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about
+      this nice little boy.&rdquo; And Pollyanna told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+      story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+      strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night she
+      carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the great
+      house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, as she
+      said good-by. &ldquo;I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home&mdash;and folks that
+      care, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+      Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+      that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+      His children of men had wrought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+      conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse; until
+      it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+      wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+      rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had prayed&mdash;earnestly,
+      hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own that matters were no
+      better, but rather worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something that only
+      endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most energetic
+      women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society because a tiny
+      spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a devouring flame
+      of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo work given to a
+      fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor Society was in a
+      ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its officers. As to
+      the Sunday school&mdash;it had been the resignation of its superintendent
+      and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and that had sent
+      the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and meditation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+      squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done&mdash;and
+      done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+      Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+      the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True, a
+      few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+      purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+      of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+      to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+      (God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+      suffering; and must suffer still more unless&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+      next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled into
+      stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on which he
+      had determined to speak:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the
+      kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, neither
+      suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows'
+      houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive
+      the greater damnation.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+      mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+      law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+      leave the other undone.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+      minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+      squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+      vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+      should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His people!&mdash;they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it?
+      Dare he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words
+      that would follow&mdash;his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had
+      pleaded earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed&mdash;oh, how
+      earnestly he longed!&mdash;to take now, in this crisis, the right step.
+      But was this&mdash;the right step?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+      pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down at
+      the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+      found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You&mdash;YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or&mdash;or
+      anything, have you?&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear&mdash;no, indeed! I'm just&mdash;resting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. &ldquo;That's all right, then.
+      You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him&mdash;but he
+      was lying down, though. And you are sitting up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything&mdash;that doctors
+      can mend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+      crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know what you mean&mdash;something plagues you. Father used to feel
+      like that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do&mdash;most generally. You
+      see there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+      Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+      don't know all the family histories.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;I mean, no, sir,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+      tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled some
+      papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at them.
+      He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance away&mdash;and
+      it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead. Pollyanna, looking
+      at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&mdash;it's a nice day,&rdquo; she began hopefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+      start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Oh!&mdash;yes, it is a very nice day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October,&rdquo; observed
+      Pollyanna, still more hopefully. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said he
+      didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires, don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+      she tried again&mdash;by a new route.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do You like being a minister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I like&mdash;Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+      used to look like that&mdash;sometimes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+      the dried leaf on the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+      minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;what did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too, that
+      he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing texts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;WHAT?&rdquo; The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+      wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's what father used to call 'em,&rdquo; she laughed. &ldquo;Of course the
+      Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in the
+      Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that, you know&mdash;such
+      a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he counted 'em. There
+      were eight hundred of 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eight hundred!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why
+      father named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen to
+      the words on the top paper in his hands&mdash;&ldquo;But woe unto you, scribes
+      and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; &ldquo;And so your father&mdash;liked those
+      'rejoicing texts,'&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. &ldquo;He said he felt better right
+      away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+      trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+      want us to do it&mdash;SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done
+      it more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+      things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight&mdash;I mean, when
+      they DIDN'T AGREE about something,&rdquo; corrected Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Why, it
+      was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the game&mdash;he
+      began with ME on the crutches&mdash;but he said 'twas the rejoicing texts
+      that started him on it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what game might that be?&rdquo; asked the minister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As I
+      said, he began with me on the crutches.&rdquo; And once more Pollyanna told her
+      story&mdash;this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+      understanding ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+      hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+      been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+      about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister wanted
+      to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+      and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking. Near
+      him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper&mdash;his sermon notes.
+      Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper, blank&mdash;his
+      sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of what he had
+      written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination he was far
+      away in a little Western town with a missionary minister who was poor,
+      sick, worried, and almost alone in the world&mdash;but who was poring over
+      the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had told him to
+      &ldquo;rejoice and be glad.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+      back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under his
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23,&rdquo; he wrote; then, with a gesture
+      of impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+      on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+      turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to fill
+      his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to go and
+      bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went. Why?
+      Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to do the
+      right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said to your
+      mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill that
+      woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as Tom was
+      concerned!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On and on read the minister&mdash;a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+      somewhere else:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting powers
+      should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always harping on a
+      man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of
+      bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL self that can dare
+      and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful
+      character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town.... People
+      radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a man feels kindly
+      and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too, before long. But if
+      he scolds and scowls and criticizes&mdash;his neighbors will return scowl
+      for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for the bad, expecting it,
+      you will get it. When you know you will find the good&mdash;you will get
+      that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox&mdash;then
+      watch him start, alert and interested!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was on
+      his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth. Later,
+      some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in the chair
+      at his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God helping me, I'll do it!&rdquo; he cried softly. &ldquo;I'll tell all my Toms I
+      KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do, and
+      I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't have
+      TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!&rdquo; And he picked up his sermon
+      notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that
+      on one side of his chair lay &ldquo;But woe unto you,&rdquo; and on the other,
+      &ldquo;scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!&rdquo; while across the smooth white paper
+      before him his pencil fairly flew&mdash;after first drawing one black line
+      through Matthew twenty-third; 13&mdash;14 and 23.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was a
+      veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and child
+      that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+      that are upright in heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office to
+      get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it chanced,
+      Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?&rdquo; she
+      said, looking interestedly about her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;such as 'tis,&rdquo; he answered, as he wrote something on the pad of
+      paper in his hand; &ldquo;but it's a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna.
+      They're just rooms, that's all&mdash;not a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+      understanding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make
+      a home,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told me,&rdquo; nodded Pollyanna, again; &ldquo;about the woman's hand
+      and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a woman's
+      hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean&mdash;if Mr.
+      Pendleton doesn't want him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+      does he?&rdquo; he asked evasively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't I&mdash;what?&rdquo; The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh&mdash;and I forgot.&rdquo; Pollyanna's face
+      showed suddenly a painful color. &ldquo;I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn't
+      Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we&mdash;we aren't
+      going there to live. You see, I told you it was&mdash;but I made a
+      mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,&rdquo; she finished anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,&rdquo; replied the doctor, a little
+      queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, then,&rdquo; sighed Pollyanna in relief. &ldquo;You see you're
+      the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when
+      I said I'd told YOU.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he?&rdquo; The doctor's lips twitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it&mdash;when
+      'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+      Chilton?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're not always to be had&mdash;for the asking, little girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should think you could get 'em,&rdquo; she argued. The flattering
+      emphasis was unmistakable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+      again: &ldquo;I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite so&mdash;confident.
+      At least, they&mdash;they haven't shown themselves to be so&mdash;obliging,&rdquo;
+       he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean&mdash;you didn't try to get somebody's
+      hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and&mdash;and couldn't, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+      people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs.
+      Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how
+      she is to take it. Was there anything else?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Sir; thank you, Sir,&rdquo; she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the
+      door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight:
+      &ldquo;Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you wanted and
+      couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+      hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance
+      in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was there
+      any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it
+      did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp and
+      unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a
+      white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and
+      put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr.
+      Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,&rdquo; Nancy was sobbing
+      to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in
+      the hushed room; &ldquo;ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face ter
+      see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and
+      yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death
+      himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they don't, they don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she hurt&mdash;bad?&rdquo; The old man's voice shook.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't no tellin',&rdquo; sobbed Nancy. &ldquo;She lay back that white an' still
+      she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead&mdash;an' Miss
+      Polly had oughter know, if any one would&mdash;she kept up such a
+      listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?&mdash;that&mdash;that&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Old Tom's face worked convulsively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an' strong,
+      too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I always
+      hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow&mdash;I did, I did!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But where is she hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy. &ldquo;There's a little cut on her
+      blessed head, but 'tain't bad&mdash;that ain't&mdash;Miss Polly says. She
+      says she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you mean internally, Nancy,&rdquo; he said dryly. &ldquo;She's hurt
+      infernally, all right&mdash;plague take that autymobile!&mdash;but I don't
+      guess Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; moaned Nancy, with a shake of her
+      head as she turned away. &ldquo;Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it till that
+      doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do&mdash;the biggest
+      washin' I ever see, I do, I do!&rdquo; she wailed, wringing her hands
+      helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+      Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+      cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+      shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he
+      had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking
+      than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at
+      present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A
+      trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all.
+      And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+      eyes and realized where she was.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+      up?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,&rdquo; she moaned, falling
+      back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dear, I wouldn't try&mdash;just yet,&rdquo; soothed her aunt quickly, but
+      very quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+      woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young woman nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell her,&rdquo; the lips said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+      scarcely let her speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+      now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt? Oh, yes; I&mdash;I ran.&rdquo; Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted
+      her hand to her forehead. &ldquo;Why, it's&mdash;done up, and it&mdash;hurts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; but never mind. Just&mdash;just rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so&mdash;so
+      queer&mdash;only they don't FEEL&mdash;at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to her
+      feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose you let me talk to you now,&rdquo; she began cheerily. &ldquo;I'm sure I
+      think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+      introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+      care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+      swallow these little white pills for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I don't want to be taken care of&mdash;that is, not for long! I want
+      to get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow?&rdquo; smiled the nurse, brightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But
+      just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what THEY'LL
+      do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; &ldquo;but I MUST go to
+      school day after to-morrow&mdash;there are examinations then, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+      automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+      into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she had
+      swallowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna did not go to school &ldquo;to-morrow,&rdquo; nor the &ldquo;day after to-morrow.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily when a brief
+      period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to her lips.
+      Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly until a week had
+      passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened somewhat, and her mind
+      awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be told all over again what
+      had occurred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick,&rdquo; she sighed at last. &ldquo;Well, I'm
+      glad of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;G-glad, Pollyanna?&rdquo; asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+      life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+      lifelong-invalids don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly&mdash;who had said nothing whatever about broken legs&mdash;got
+      suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+      room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+      down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her face
+      was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+      ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too,&rdquo; she murmured contentedly.
+      &ldquo;That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't whooping cough&mdash;I've
+      had that, and it's horrid&mdash;and I'm glad 'tisn't appendicitis nor
+      measles, 'cause they're catching&mdash;measles are, I mean&mdash;and they
+      wouldn't let you stay here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem to&mdash;to be glad for a good many things, my dear,&rdquo; faltered
+      Aunt Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. I've been thinking of 'em&mdash;lots of 'em&mdash;all the time I've
+      been looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr.
+      Pendleton gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said
+      yet. I don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+      &ldquo;Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+      times&mdash;and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'&mdash;by
+      folks that belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me
+      that; and of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had
+      belonged to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to
+      me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes were
+      full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room through
+      the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+      harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened,&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;You couldn't guess
+      in a thousand years&mdash;you couldn't, you couldn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I cal'late I won't try,&rdquo; retorted the man, grimly, &ldquo;specially as I
+      hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+      first off, Nancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+      mistress? Who, I say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's no tellin',&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's&mdash;John Pendleton!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho, now! You're jokin', girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much I am&mdash;an' me a-lettin' him in myself&mdash;crutches an'
+      all! An' the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him,
+      jest as if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter
+      no one! jest think, Mr. Tom&mdash;HIM a-callin' on HER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As if you didn't know better'n me!&rdquo; she derided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you needn't be so innercent,&rdquo; she retorted with mock indignation; &ldquo;&mdash;you
+      what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do ye mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a step
+      nearer to the old man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the first
+      place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and I puts
+      'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five&mdash;an' no
+      four at all, at all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse sense,&rdquo;
+       he declared testily. &ldquo;I never was no hand for figgers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's this,&rdquo; she explained. &ldquo;I heard somethin' that made me think
+      him an' Miss Polly was lovers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MR. PENDLETON!&rdquo; Old Tom straightened up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he was
+      in love with, and that's why he wanted&mdash;but never mind that part,&rdquo;
+       she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna not
+      to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+      &ldquo;Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+      that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's been
+      hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their names
+      tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember,&rdquo; nodded Old Tom. &ldquo;It was three or four years after Miss
+      Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss Polly
+      knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter be nice
+      to him. Maybe she overdid it a little&mdash;she hated that minister chap
+      so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter make
+      trouble. They said she was runnin' after him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Runnin' after any man&mdash;her!&rdquo; interjected Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it; but they did,&rdquo; declared Old Tom, &ldquo;and of course no gal of any
+      spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an' the
+      trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't have
+      nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to turn
+      bitter at the core.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. I've heard about that now,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy; &ldquo;an' that's why
+      you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the door&mdash;him,
+      what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went an' told
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did she say?&rdquo; Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin'&mdash;at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and
+      I was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+      Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+      out here an' told you,&rdquo; finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+      toward the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the ceremonious &ldquo;parlor&rdquo; of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+      Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of Miss
+      Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+      remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was coldly
+      reserved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called to ask for&mdash;Pollyanna,&rdquo; he began at once, a little
+      brusquely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you. She is about the same,&rdquo; said Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is&mdash;won't you tell me HOW she is?&rdquo; His voice was not quite
+      steady this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't, I wish I could!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;you don't know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;the doctor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren himself seems&mdash;at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+      New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but what WERE her injuries that you do know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and&mdash;and an injury to
+      the spine which has seemed to cause&mdash;paralysis from the hips down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily, he
+      asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Pollyanna&mdash;how does she&mdash;take it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She doesn't understand&mdash;at all&mdash;how things really are. And I
+      CAN'T tell her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she must know&mdash;something!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture that
+      had become so common to her of late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She knows she can't&mdash;move; but she thinks her legs are&mdash;broken.
+      She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+      'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+      the other&mdash;doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it&mdash;it
+      seems as if I should&mdash;die!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+      opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back to
+      what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her presence:
+      &ldquo;Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly&mdash;now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+      control his voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get Pollyanna
+      to come and live with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With YOU!&mdash;Pollyanna!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+      still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I wanted to adopt her&mdash;legally, you understand; making her my
+      heir, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to her,
+      suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for Pollyanna&mdash;this
+      adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough and mercenary
+      enough&mdash;to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very fond of Pollyanna,&rdquo; the man was continuing. &ldquo;I am fond of her
+      both for her own sake, and for&mdash;her mother's. I stood ready to give
+      Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;LOVE.&rdquo; Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child in the
+      first place&mdash;and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+      Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: &ldquo;I love to be called
+      'dear' by folks that belong to you!&rdquo; And it was this love-hungry little
+      girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five years:&mdash;and
+      she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking heart Miss Polly
+      realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized something else: the
+      dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that vibrated
+      through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not come,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She wanted
+      to stay with you&mdash;and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to stay,&rdquo;
+       he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+      the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+      shaking hand thrust toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When the specialist comes, and I know anything&mdash;definite about
+      Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me,&rdquo; said a trembling voice. &ldquo;Good-by&mdash;and
+      thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+      Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of the
+      specialist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, my dear,&rdquo; she began gently, &ldquo;we have decided that we want
+      another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+      something new to do&mdash;to help you get well faster, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've wanted
+      him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his seeing
+      you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+      anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+      But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+      speak lightly and cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+      doctor&mdash;a very famous doctor from New York, who&mdash;who knows a
+      great deal about&mdash;about hurts like yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's face fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg, Aunt
+      Polly. If&mdash;if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+      Chilton&mdash;truly I would!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+      speak at all; then she said gently&mdash;though yet with a touch of her
+      old stern decisiveness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything&mdash;almost
+      anything for you, my dear; but I&mdash;for reasons which I do not care to
+      speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on&mdash;on this case.
+      And believe me, he can NOT know so much about&mdash;about your trouble, as
+      this great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT, Pollyanna?&rdquo; Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks were
+      very red, too.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,&rdquo; sighed
+      Pollyanna, &ldquo;seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+      would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her feet
+      abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry, Pollyanna,&rdquo; she said, a little stiffly; &ldquo;but I'm afraid
+      you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's already
+      arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come &ldquo;to-morrow.&rdquo; At
+      the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to the
+      sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+      renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton&mdash;&ldquo;which would be
+      so easy now, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said &ldquo;no, dear,&rdquo; very
+      decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+      anything&mdash;anything but that&mdash;to please her dear Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+      Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+      niece.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn't 'a' believed it&mdash;you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,&rdquo;
+       Nancy said to Old Tom one morning. &ldquo;There don't seem ter be a minute in
+      the day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+      for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat&mdash;an'
+      her what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+      ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+      Miss Pollyanna!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+      danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make the
+      'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy down
+      ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers&mdash;an' that besides
+      all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I didn't
+      find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her hair, an'
+      Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes all shinin'
+      an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't wore her hair
+      like that every day now&mdash;jest ter please that blessed child!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the worse&mdash;for
+      wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,&rdquo; he observed dryly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Course she ain't,&rdquo; retorted Nancy, indignantly. &ldquo;She looks like FOLKS,
+      now. She's actually almost&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keerful, now, Nancy!&rdquo; interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. &ldquo;You
+      know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look like
+      the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss Pollyanna
+      makes her wear 'round her neck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded the man. &ldquo;I told ye she wa'n't&mdash;old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it&mdash;as
+      she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+      lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hain't ye?&rdquo; asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. &ldquo;Well, I
+      guess ye won't then from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,&rdquo; wheedled the girl. &ldquo;Ye see, there ain't many
+      folks here that I CAN ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',&rdquo; grinned Old
+      Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. &ldquo;How is she, ter-day&mdash;the
+      little gal?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can see&mdash;or
+      anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some, an' tries
+      ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises, or some
+      other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with achin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; it's the 'game'&mdash;bless her sweet heart!&rdquo; nodded Old Tom,
+      blinking a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere&mdash;game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. She told me long ago.&rdquo; The old man hesitated, then went on, his
+      lips twitching a little. &ldquo;I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so bent up
+      and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT ter
+      be glad about!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+      SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find somethin'.
+      We've been playin' it&mdash;that game&mdash;since almost the first, 'cause
+      there wa'n't no one else she could play it with&mdash;though she did speak
+      of&mdash;her aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MISS POLLY!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+      than I have,&rdquo; she bridled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Tom stiffened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was only thinkin' 'twould be&mdash;some of a surprise&mdash;to her,&rdquo; he
+      explained with dignity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, yes, I guess 'twould be&mdash;THEN,&rdquo; retorted Nancy. &ldquo;I ain't
+      sayin' what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now&mdash;even
+      that she'd take ter playin' it herself!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But hain't the little gal told her&mdash;ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+      I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,&rdquo; said
+      Tom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,&rdquo; rejoined Nancy. &ldquo;Miss Pollyanna told
+      me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+      have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+      have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I see, I see.&rdquo; The old man nodded his head slowly. &ldquo;They was always
+      bitter against the minister chap&mdash;all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss
+      Jennie away from 'em. An' Miss Polly&mdash;young as she was&mdash;couldn't
+      never forgive him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie&mdash;in them days. I
+      see, I see. 'Twas a bad mess,&rdquo; he sighed, as he turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, 'twas&mdash;all 'round, all 'round,&rdquo; sighed Nancy in her turn, as
+      she went back to her kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+      cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+      impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+      about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide the
+      fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna&mdash;Pollyanna
+      petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers and ate
+      the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned innumerable
+      cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that were brought
+      to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the nervous activity
+      of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the pitiful
+      motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying so
+      woefully quiet under the blankets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the game&mdash;Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was
+      going to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to
+      call on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+      realize that all this &ldquo;gladness&rdquo; was in the future, not the present.
+      Nancy, however, did realize it&mdash;and cry about it, when she was alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected, he
+      came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+      cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see,&rdquo; she added engagingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOUR doctor?&rdquo; Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren, talking
+      with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small, brown-eyed man
+      with a pointed brown beard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, THAT isn't my doctor,&rdquo; smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. &ldquo;Dr.
+      Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+      who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+      &ldquo;You see, <i>I</i> wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+      you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about&mdash;about
+      broken legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+      translate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only time can tell that, little girl,&rdquo; he said gently; then he turned a
+      grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly, if
+      Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+      unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+      hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+      open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+      Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+      &ldquo;meow&rdquo; of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply Aunt
+      Polly's agonized exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean&mdash;the child&mdash;will
+      NEVER WALK again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+      terrified &ldquo;Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!&rdquo; Then Miss Polly, seeing the open door
+      and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan and&mdash;for
+      the first time in her life&mdash;fainted dead away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse, with a choking &ldquo;She heard!&rdquo; stumbled toward the open door. The
+      two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay&mdash;he had
+      caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was not
+      until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the door,
+      that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes, awoke
+      to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to
+      unhappy consciousness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the bed
+      vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed little
+      girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+      please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+      pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&mdash;she can't come just this minute, dear. She will&mdash;a little
+      later. What is it? Can't I&mdash;get it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I want to know what she said&mdash;just now. Did you hear her? I want
+      Aunt Polly&mdash;she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't true&mdash;'tisn't
+      true!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent an
+      added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+      mean I can't ever&mdash;walk again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear&mdash;don't, don't!&rdquo; choked the nurse. &ldquo;Perhaps he
+      didn't know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could
+      happen, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody else
+      about&mdash;about broken legs like mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes. Just&mdash;just
+      don't think any more about it now&mdash;please don't, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. &ldquo;But I can't help thinking about it,&rdquo;
+       she sobbed. &ldquo;It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt, how am
+      I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or&mdash;or
+      anybody?&rdquo; She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+      she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. &ldquo;Why, Miss Hunt, if I
+      can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for&mdash;ANYTHING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not know &ldquo;the game;&rdquo; but she did know that her patient must
+      be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+      heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+      with the quieting powder ready.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, dear, just take this,&rdquo; she soothed; &ldquo;and by and by we'll be
+      more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half as
+      bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+      glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; that sounds like things father used to say,&rdquo; faltered Pollyanna,
+      blinking off the tears. &ldquo;He said there was always something about
+      everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard he
+      couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+      that, that could be worse&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+      verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+      information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she felt
+      to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then to send
+      Nancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+      extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and its
+      master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything. She
+      scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few minutes, she
+      waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm Nancy, sir,&rdquo; she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+      questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. &ldquo;Miss Harrington sent
+      me to tell you about&mdash;Miss Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+      anxiety that lay behind that short &ldquo;well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,&rdquo; she choked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean&mdash;&rdquo; He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. He says&mdash;she can't walk again&mdash;never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+      in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl! Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+      that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+      he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems cruel&mdash;never to dance in the sunshine again! My little
+      prism girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She herself doesn't know yet&mdash;of course&mdash;does she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she does, sir.&rdquo; sobbed Nancy, &ldquo;an' that's what makes it all the
+      harder. She found out&mdash;drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,&rdquo; apologized
+      the girl, hurriedly. &ldquo;It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+      Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out&mdash;that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor&mdash;little&mdash;girl!&rdquo; sighed the man again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her,&rdquo; choked Nancy. &ldquo;I
+      hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up both
+      times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps thinkin' all
+      the time of new things she can't do&mdash;NOW. It worries her, too, 'cause
+      she can't seem ter be glad&mdash;maybe you don't know about her game,
+      though,&rdquo; broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The 'glad game'?&rdquo; asked the man. &ldquo;Oh, yes; she told me of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks. But
+      ye see, now she&mdash;she can't play it herself, an' it worries her. She
+      says she can't think of a thing&mdash;not a thing about this not walkin'
+      again, ter be glad about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why should she?&rdquo; retorted the man, almost savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's the way I felt, too&mdash;till I happened ter think&mdash;it WOULD
+      be easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to&mdash;to
+      remind her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To remind her! Of what?&rdquo; John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+      impatient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of&mdash;of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+      know&mdash;and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb
+      just cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy
+      ter TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing
+      when you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+      says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+      folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+      really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+      nicer ter play when&mdash;when it was hard,&rdquo; resumed Nancy, in a dull
+      voice. &ldquo;But she says that, too, is diff'rent&mdash;when it really IS hard.
+      An' I must be goin', now, sir,&rdquo; she broke off abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that&mdash;that you'd seen Jimmy
+      Bean again, I s'pose, sir, could I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see how you could&mdash;as I haven't seen him,&rdquo; observed the man
+      a little shortly. &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', sir, only&mdash;well, ye see, that's one of the things that she
+      was feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She
+      said she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well
+      that day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very
+      nice child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that;
+      but I didn't, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know&mdash;what she means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again, she
+      said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And now
+      she&mdash;can't&mdash;drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir.
+      Good-by!&rdquo; And Nancy fled precipitately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+      the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never walk
+      again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred. Everybody
+      knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had always a smile
+      of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the &ldquo;game&rdquo; that Pollyanna was
+      playing. To think that now never again would that smiling face be seen on
+      their streets&mdash;never again would that cheery little voice proclaim
+      the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed unbelievable,
+      impossible, cruel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+      it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+      men talked, too, and wept&mdash;though not so openly. And neither the
+      talking nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news
+      itself, came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what
+      had come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not
+      play the game; that she could not now be glad over&mdash;anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+      Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+      Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+      calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+      women, and children&mdash;many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that
+      her niece knew at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+      awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+      to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+      tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+      their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+      injured girl; and all sent to her some message&mdash;and it was these
+      messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't need to tell you how shocked I am,&rdquo; he began almost harshly. &ldquo;But
+      can&mdash;nothing be done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+      treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying them
+      out to the letter, of course. But&mdash;Dr. Mead held out almost no hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton rose abruptly&mdash;though he had but just come. His face
+      was white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+      him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+      presence. At the door he turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a message for Pollyanna,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Will you tell her, please,
+      that I have seen Jimmy Bean and&mdash;that he's going to be my boy
+      hereafter. Tell her I thought she would be&mdash;GLAD to know. I shall
+      adopt him, probably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will adopt Jimmy Bean!&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lifted his chin a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+      would be&mdash;GLAD!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of&mdash;of course,&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+      looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+      believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+      Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+      supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy&mdash;and such a little boy?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has just
+      been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his little boy.
+      He said he thought you'd be glad to know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+      find a place for Jimmy&mdash;and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+      so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told her
+      aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her&mdash;and certainly she would
+      not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of leaving
+      her&mdash;this dear Aunt Polly!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The child's presence,&rdquo; stammered Pollyanna, hastily. &ldquo;Mr. Pendleton told
+      me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's presence
+      could make a&mdash;a home. And now he's got it&mdash;the child's
+      presence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&mdash;see,&rdquo; said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see&mdash;more
+      than Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was
+      probably brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton
+      was asking HER to be the &ldquo;child's presence,&rdquo; which was to transform his
+      great pile of gray stone into a home. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she finished, her eyes
+      stinging with sudden tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing questions,
+      hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton house and its
+      master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton says so, too&mdash;that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or
+      a child's presence, to make a home, you know,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DR. CHILTON! How do you know&mdash;that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know&mdash;not
+      a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I asked him why he didn't get 'em&mdash;a woman's hand and heart, and
+      have a home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna!&rdquo; Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+      color.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I did. He looked so&mdash;so sorrowful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he&mdash;say?&rdquo; Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of
+      some force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+      couldn't always get 'em for the asking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+      window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said that
+      low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world if he did
+      have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter?&rdquo; Aunt
+      Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,&rdquo; said Aunt
+      Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow called
+      one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+      homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I came to inquire for the little girl,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?&rdquo; rejoined
+      Miss Polly, wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is what I came to tell you&mdash;that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+      Pollyanna,&rdquo; hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. &ldquo;We think
+      it's&mdash;so awful&mdash;so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+      ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too&mdash;for mother,
+      you know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard
+      how now she couldn't play it herself&mdash;poor little dear! I'm sure I
+      don't see how she CAN, either, in her condition!&mdash;but when we
+      remembered all the things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only
+      know what she HAD done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own
+      case, about the game, because she could be glad&mdash;that is, a little
+      glad&mdash;&rdquo; Milly stopped helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss
+      Polly to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+      her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+      was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was &ldquo;queer,&rdquo;
+       but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+      she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words. When
+      the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want me
+      to tell my niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her,&rdquo; answered the girl, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+      because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I want
+      her to know HOW different she is&mdash;and me, too. I'm different. I've
+      been trying to play it&mdash;the game&mdash;a little.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this &ldquo;game,&rdquo;
+       but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with nervous
+      volubility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know nothing was ever right before&mdash;for mother. She was always
+      wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+      much&mdash;under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades
+      up, and she takes interest in things&mdash;how she looks, and her
+      nightdress, and all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things&mdash;reins
+      and baby blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so
+      GLAD to think she can do it!&mdash;and that was all Miss Pollyanna's
+      doings, you know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her
+      hands and arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she
+      didn't DO something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do
+      something&mdash;to knit, you know. And you can't think what a different
+      room it is now, what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the
+      prisms in the window that SHE gave her&mdash;why, it actually makes you
+      feel BETTER just to go in there now; and before I used to dread it
+      awfully, it was so dark and gloomy, and mother was so&mdash;so unhappy,
+      you know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand it's
+      all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that we
+      thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that she
+      knew us. And&mdash;and that's all,&rdquo; sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+      feet. &ldquo;You'll tell her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, of course,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+      remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of many;
+      and always there were the messages&mdash;the messages which were in some
+      ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle over
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+      though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew her
+      as the saddest little woman in town&mdash;one who was always in black.
+      To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+      though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror at
+      the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later&mdash;perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+      almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her&mdash;a message,&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell her, please, that&mdash;that I've put on THIS,&rdquo; she said,
+      just touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's
+      ill-concealed look of surprise, she added: &ldquo;The little girl has been
+      trying for so long to make me wear&mdash;some color, that I thought she'd
+      be&mdash;glad to know I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to
+      see it, if I would. You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all&mdash;&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Benton shook her head and turned away. &ldquo;If you'll just tell Pollyanna&mdash;SHE'LL
+      understand.&rdquo; And the door closed after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, that same day, there was the other widow&mdash;at least,
+      she wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She
+      wondered vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her
+      name as &ldquo;Mrs. Tarbell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a stranger to you, of course,&rdquo; she began at once. &ldquo;But I'm not a
+      stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+      summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was on
+      these walks that I've met your niece&mdash;she's such a dear little girl!
+      I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very sad
+      when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me of&mdash;my
+      own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear of the
+      accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never walk
+      again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any longer&mdash;the
+      dear child!&mdash;I just had to come to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind,&rdquo; murmured Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is you who are to be kind,&rdquo; demurred the other. &ldquo;I&mdash;I want
+      you to give her a message from me. Will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I know
+      it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But&mdash;if you'll pardon me I'd
+      rather not explain.&rdquo; Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the smile
+      left her eyes. &ldquo;Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt that I
+      must tell&mdash;her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+      rudeness in my call,&rdquo; she begged, as she took her leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's at
+      the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean&mdash;we used to.&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you&mdash;but
+      she wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+      is glad now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she say that&mdash;really? Oh, I'm so glad!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's the game, and&mdash;&rdquo; Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to
+      her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is&mdash;I can't tell it unless I tell
+      other things that&mdash;that I'm not to speak of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+      obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+      were uttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the shape
+      of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks and
+      abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+      jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation&mdash;but
+      whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+      homestead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+      the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been crying.
+      Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the little girl,
+      Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in the
+      woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one was
+      allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was still
+      at a slightly defiant tilt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Mrs. Payson&mdash;Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+      me&mdash;most of the good people in the town have&mdash;and maybe some of
+      the things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+      little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and&mdash;and it broke me
+      all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and&mdash;and
+      I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd do
+      more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred years.
+      But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can make the
+      best use of 'em, I notice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+      still husky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl of
+      yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by often&mdash;only
+      she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the kids and talked
+      to me&mdash;and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like it, and to
+      like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks don't
+      generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss Harrington,
+      there wouldn't be so many&mdash;of my kind,&rdquo; she added, with sudden
+      bitterness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+      did do us good&mdash;a lot o' good. How much she won't know&mdash;nor
+      can't know, I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things&mdash;that
+      I don't want her to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more ways
+      than one. We've been blue and discouraged&mdash;my man and me, and ready
+      for&mdash;'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+      and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the kids.
+      Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's never
+      walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and sit on our
+      doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and&mdash;and just be glad.
+      She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she told us
+      why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+      her, because she can't play it no more&mdash;that there's nothing to be
+      glad about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day&mdash;that maybe she
+      can be a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other,
+      and play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+      feel kind of bad&mdash;at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+      going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+      Anyhow, we're going to try&mdash;'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell
+      her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I will tell her,&rdquo; promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then, with
+      sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. &ldquo;And thank you
+      for coming, Mrs. Payson,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+      incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+      outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was confronting
+      Nancy in the kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits of
+      the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary experience
+      of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping point. Not since
+      Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress speak so sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+      seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with it?
+      WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to her
+      that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town are
+      putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to like
+      something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I tried
+      to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make much headway,
+      and of course I don't like to worry her&mdash;now. But from something I
+      heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one of them, too.
+      Now WILL you tell me what it all means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+      makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin' ter
+      make her a little glad, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad of what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just glad! That's the game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+      the eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her ter
+      play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when she was
+      wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would. It seems
+      'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin' but what
+      there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an' that she
+      could be glad about them crutches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad for&mdash;CRUTCHES!&rdquo; Miss Polly choked back a sob&mdash;she was
+      thinking of the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she said,
+      too. But he told her she COULD be glad&mdash;'cause she DIDN'T NEED 'EM.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh-h!&rdquo; cried Miss Polly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And after that she said he made a regular game of it&mdash;findin'
+      somethin' in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it,
+      too, and that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause
+      ye was so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest
+      bein' glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, how&mdash;how&mdash;&rdquo; Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,&rdquo;
+       maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. &ldquo;I wish
+      I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out home.
+      She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me glad, too,
+      on such a lot o' things&mdash;little things, an' big things; an' it's made
+      'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for a name half as
+      much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't 'Hephzibah.' An' there's
+      Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so. She's actually made me glad
+      for Monday mornin's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad&mdash;for Monday mornings!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed lamb
+      found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does she up
+      an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should think you
+      could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in the week,
+      because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another one!' An' I'm
+      blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin' since&mdash;an' it
+      HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I thought of it;
+      an' laughin' helps, ye know&mdash;it does, it does!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why hasn't&mdash;she told me&mdash;the game?&rdquo; faltered Miss Polly.
+      &ldquo;Why has she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nancy hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of&mdash;her
+      father; so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She wanted ter tell ye, first off,&rdquo; continued Nancy, a little unsteadily.
+      &ldquo;She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I begun it, so
+      she could have some one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;and&mdash;these others?&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think they
+      did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she told a
+      lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they gets
+      started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry one, an' so&mdash;so
+      jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't help knowin' it,
+      anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so bad&mdash;specially when
+      they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find anythin' ter be glad
+      about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter tell her how glad she's
+      made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see, she's always wanted ev'rybody
+      ter play the game with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know somebody who'll play it&mdash;now,&rdquo; choked Miss Polly, as
+      she turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'll believe anythin'&mdash;anythin' now,&rdquo; she muttered to herself.
+      &ldquo;Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now&mdash;o' Miss
+      Polly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+      Pollyanna alone together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear,&rdquo; announced Miss
+      Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. &ldquo;Do you remember Mrs.
+      Payson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr. Pendleton's,
+      and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three years old, and a boy
+      'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her husband&mdash;only they don't
+      seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes they fight&mdash;I mean,
+      they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say, and of course they
+      don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary minister, you know,
+      like&mdash;well, he isn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated suddenly
+      in those of her aunt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being so
+      poor,&rdquo; resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. &ldquo;And she's got perfectly
+      beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+      says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+      and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+      isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+      And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+      that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+      should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+      more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they aren't going 'way off, dear,&rdquo; evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+      &ldquo;They're going to stay right there together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see&mdash;O dear!&rdquo;
+       broke off the little girl, miserably. &ldquo;Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+      that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+      Mr. Pendleton again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, don't,&rdquo; choked her aunt. &ldquo;Perhaps you'll drive up sometime.
+      But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson said. She wanted
+      me to tell you that they&mdash;they were going to stay together and to
+      play the game, just as you wanted them to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make you&mdash;GLAD,
+      Pollyanna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, you&mdash;you spoke just as if you knew&mdash;DO you
+      know about the game, Aunt Polly?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear.&rdquo; Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+      matter-of-fact. &ldquo;Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+      to play it now&mdash;with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Polly&mdash;YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you
+      most of anybody, all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+      time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+      all the town is playing that game now with you&mdash;even to the minister!
+      I haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+      when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just as
+      soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+      stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told
+      him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it. The whole
+      town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happier&mdash;and
+      all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game, and how
+      to play it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad,&rdquo; she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light illumined
+      her face. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be glad about, after
+      all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway&mdash;else I couldn't have
+      done&mdash;that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One by one the short winter days came and went&mdash;but they were not
+      short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+      resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+      toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+      that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+      to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story one day
+      about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a blown-down
+      door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did that didn't have
+      any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the other story that she
+      had heard about the poor old lady who had only two teeth, but who was so
+      glad that those two teeth &ldquo;hit&rdquo;!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of bright
+      colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the white
+      spread, and made Pollyanna&mdash;again like Mrs. Snow&mdash;so glad she
+      had her hands and arms, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+      messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+      something new to think about&mdash;and Pollyanna needed new things to
+      think about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean. John
+      Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and how
+      well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had, and
+      what bang-up &ldquo;folks&rdquo; Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it was all
+      owing to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,&rdquo;
+       Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over Pollyanna's
+      condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed treatment.
+      There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's worst fears
+      would be realized&mdash;that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+      of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into a
+      fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way to
+      procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however, and the
+      news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides anxiety
+      began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged determination,
+      each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged determination won;
+      and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise,
+      received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton,&rdquo; began the doctor, abruptly, &ldquo;I've come to you because you,
+      better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with Miss
+      Polly Harrington.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly&mdash;he
+      did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+      Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+      years, or more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+      sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+      need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+      errand to notice how that errand was received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+      MUST make an examination.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;can't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+      for more than fifteen years. You don't know&mdash;but I will tell you&mdash;that
+      the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+      enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+      would be as before&mdash;which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see
+      her summoning me now&mdash;but I don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But couldn't you go&mdash;without a summons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hardly. <i>I</i> have some pride, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if you're so anxious&mdash;couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+      the quarrel&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forget the quarrel!&rdquo; interrupted the doctor, savagely. &ldquo;I'm not talking
+      of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here there
+      on my knees&mdash;or on my head&mdash;if that would do any good. It's
+      PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+      doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me! can I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chilton, what was the quarrel?&rdquo; demanded Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?&rdquo; he snarled,
+      pacing the room angrily. &ldquo;A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or the
+      depth of a river, maybe&mdash;it might as well be, so far as its having
+      any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+      Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+      there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+      or death. It will mean&mdash;I honestly believe&mdash;nine chances out of
+      ten that Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just as
+      the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+      Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached the
+      ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+      green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk! Pollyanna!&rdquo; John Pendleton was saying. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean that from what I can hear and learn&mdash;a mile from her bedside&mdash;that
+      her case is very much like one that a college friend of mine has just
+      helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a special study.
+      I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way. And from what I
+      hear&mdash;but I want to SEE the girl!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must see her, man! Couldn't you&mdash;say, through Dr. Warren?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me himself
+      that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but&mdash;Miss
+      Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+      even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+      best patients have come over to me&mdash;so of course that ties my hands
+      still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child! Think
+      of what it may mean to her&mdash;if I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and think of what it will mean&mdash;if you don't!&rdquo; retorted
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how can I&mdash;without a direct request from her aunt?&mdash;which
+      I'll never get!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must be made to ask you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I guess you don't&mdash;nor anybody else. She's too proud and too
+      angry to ask me&mdash;after what she said years ago it would mean if she
+      did ask me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and
+      when I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+      confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I&mdash;&rdquo; He
+      did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+      pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again, angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if she could be made to see&mdash;to understand,&rdquo; urged John
+      Pendleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and who's going to do it?&rdquo; demanded the doctor, with a savage turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, I don't know,&rdquo; groaned the other, miserably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had scarcely
+      breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, by Jinks, I know!&rdquo; he whispered, exultingly. &ldquo;I'M a-goin' ter do
+      it!&rdquo; And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the corner
+      of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am,&rdquo; announced Nancy in the
+      doorway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. &ldquo;Are you sure he did not
+      mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well, I'll come down.&rdquo; And Miss Polly arose from her chair a little
+      wearily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed, flushed-faced
+      boy, who began to speak at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful&mdash;what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+      but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+      her, or face you, or&mdash;or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think
+      you would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+      An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+      et&mdash;et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew
+      you WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wh-at?&rdquo; interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+      changing to one of angry indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+      about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what are you talking about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy sighed again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I understand
+      each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as you did before&mdash;and
+      mix everything all up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+      talked in the library. Do you understand that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Jimmy.&rdquo; Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it; an'
+      I heard 'em talk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin',&rdquo; bridled Jimmy. &ldquo;And I'm
+      glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make Pollyanna&mdash;walk!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jimmy, what do you mean?&rdquo; Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, I told ye so,&rdquo; nodded Jimmy, contentedly. &ldquo;Well, Dr. Chilton knows
+      some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks&mdash;make her
+      walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+      see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Jimmy, I&mdash;I can't&mdash;I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!&rdquo;
+       Miss Polly was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,&rdquo; asserted
+      Jimmy, eagerly. &ldquo;They said that for some reason&mdash;I didn't rightly
+      catch what&mdash;you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr.
+      Warren so; an' Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him,
+      on account of pride an' professional et&mdash;et&mdash;well, et-somethin
+      anyway. An' they was wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they
+      didn't know who could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself
+      right away, 'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come&mdash;an' have I made ye
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor,&rdquo; implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+      &ldquo;Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an' he's
+      just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow, they didn't
+      seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they was worryin'
+      about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An' say&mdash;you will
+      let him come, won't you?&mdash;now you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming in
+      little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes, thought
+      she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she said
+      brokenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I'll let&mdash;Dr. Chilton&mdash;see her. Now run home, Jimmy&mdash;quick!
+      I've got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a
+      few minutes ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated, flushed-faced
+      Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to hear the lady say,
+      a little breathlessly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+      consultation, and&mdash;I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+      much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+      once&mdash;please? Thank you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay watching
+      the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall, broad-shouldered man
+      followed close behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dr. Chilton!&mdash;oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!&rdquo; cried
+      Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+      eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. &ldquo;But, of course, if Aunt
+      Polly doesn't want&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all right, my dear; don't worry,&rdquo; soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+      hurrying forward. &ldquo;I have told Dr. Chilton that&mdash;that I want him to
+      look you over&mdash;with Dr. Warren, this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then you asked him to come,&rdquo; murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, dear, I asked him. That is&mdash;&rdquo; But it was too late. The adoring
+      happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and Miss
+      Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the room
+      hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+      Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever did
+      has been done to-day,&rdquo; he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+      crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+      to themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you&mdash;the very first one of all.
+      Some day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your&mdash;uncle. And
+      it's you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so&mdash;happy! And so&mdash;glad!&mdash;darling!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small palms
+      together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted so
+      long ago? You were&mdash;I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+      saying I'd done the gladdest job of all&mdash;to-day. I'm so glad! Why,
+      Aunt Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind&mdash;even my
+      legs, now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps, some day, dear&mdash;&rdquo; But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+      did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+      her heart. But she did say this&mdash;and surely this was quite wonderful
+      enough&mdash;to Pollyanna's mind:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+      comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages to
+      a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on purpose
+      for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr. Chilton's, and
+      we're going to see what he can do for you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:&mdash;Oh, I can&mdash;I can&mdash;I CAN
+      walk! I did to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six
+      steps. My, how good it was to be on legs again!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood beside
+      of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week first,
+      peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next month,
+      was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and clapped
+      her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through the
+      piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying too much
+      to call me anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't see why they cried. <i>I</i> wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+      Oh&mdash;oh&mdash;oh! just think, I can walk&mdash;walk&mdash;WALK! Now I
+      don't mind being here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding,
+      anyhow. Wasn't that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get
+      married right beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of
+      the gladdest things!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+      there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any more. It
+      will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for everything.
+      Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never, never know
+      how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them&mdash;that go, I
+      mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With heaps of love to everybody,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;POLLYANNA.&rdquo; <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+  </body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Pollyanna
+
+Author: Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Posting Date: August 27, 2008 [EBook #1450]
+Release Date: September, 1998
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Keller for Tina
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Author of "Miss Billy," "Miss Billy's Decision," "Cross Currents," "The
+Turn of the Tides," etc.
+
+
+
+
+               TO
+               My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+     CHAPTER
+     I.     MISS POLLY
+     II.    OLD TOM AND NANCY
+     III.   THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+     IV.    THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+     V.     THE GAME
+     VI.    A QUESTION OF DUTY
+     VII.   POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+     VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+     IX.    WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+     X.     A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+     XI.    INTRODUCING JIMMY
+     XII.   BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+     XIII.  IN PENDLETON WOODS
+     XIV.   JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+     XV.    DR. CHILTON
+     XVI.   A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+     XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+     XVIII. PRISMS
+     XIX.   WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+     XX.    WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+     XXI.   A QUESTION ANSWERED
+     XXII.  SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+     XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+     XXIV.  JOHN PENDLETON
+     XXV.   A WAITING GAME
+     XXVI.  A DOOR AJAR
+     XXVII. TWO VISITS
+     XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+     XXIX.  THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+     XXX.   JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+     XXXI.  A NEW UNCLE
+     XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she
+specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she was
+hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had been
+working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knew
+that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wiping
+the pitcher in her hand.
+
+"Nancy,"--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--"when I'm talking to
+you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say."
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with the
+cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not add
+to her composure.
+
+"Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am," she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. "I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause you
+specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know."
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+"That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for your
+attention."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any way
+she could please this woman. Nancy had never "worked out" before; but
+a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger children
+besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something toward
+their support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place in
+the kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from "The
+Corners," six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as
+the mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest
+residents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly
+now as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to
+the floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even when
+knives and doors were still.
+
+"When you've finished your morning work, Nancy," Miss Polly was saying
+now, "you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in the
+attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,
+after you clear out the trunks and boxes."
+
+"Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?"
+
+"In the front attic." Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: "I suppose I
+may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is
+coming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in that
+room."
+
+"A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!"
+cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in the
+home at "The Corners."
+
+"Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use," rejoined Miss
+Polly, stiffly. "However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I
+am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty."
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+"Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you," she faltered.
+
+"Thank you," rejoined the lady, dryly. "I can't say, however, that I see
+any immediate need for that."
+
+"But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child," ventured
+Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this
+lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+"Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was
+silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that
+was already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularly
+WANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope
+I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy," she finished
+sharply, as she left the room.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now so
+cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had
+received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had
+been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss
+Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:
+
+"Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died
+two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left
+practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,
+he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre
+salary.
+
+"I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me to
+understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,
+however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the child
+and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to
+you.
+
+"The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this
+letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you
+would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife
+here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to
+Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be
+notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+"Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+
+"Respectfully yours,
+
+"Jeremiah O. White."
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would
+take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough for
+that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to
+her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the time
+when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young
+minister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a man
+of wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him to
+the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as
+well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young
+head full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had married
+the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had
+been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had
+had little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennie
+herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby "Pollyanna"
+for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. This
+had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there
+had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little
+note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house
+on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,
+thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress of
+the house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were people
+who had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to have
+some friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomed
+either their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. She
+liked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,
+of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knew
+her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.
+But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying
+particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the
+vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than
+it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in spite of her frightened
+submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+"I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!" she
+muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
+pointed cleaning-stick. "There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
+all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
+this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
+house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!"
+snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
+strain; "I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
+just now!"
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
+about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+"Well, it's done--my part, anyhow," she sighed. "There ain't no dirt
+here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
+this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!" she finished, going
+out and closing the door with a bang, "Oh!" she ejaculated, biting
+her lip. Then, doggedly: "Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
+bang,--I do, I do!"
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
+interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
+about the place for uncounted years.
+
+"Mr. Tom," began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
+make sure she was unobserved; "did you know a little girl was comin'
+here ter live with Miss Polly?"
+
+"A--what?" demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+"A little girl--to live with Miss Polly."
+
+"Go on with yer jokin'," scoffed unbelieving Tom. "Why don't ye tell me
+the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?"
+
+"But it's true. She told me so herself," maintained Nancy. "It's her
+niece; and she's eleven years old."
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+"Sho!--I wonder, now," he muttered; then a tender light came into his
+faded eyes. "It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
+wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
+Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
+a-seein' this!"
+
+"Who was Miss Jennie?"
+
+"She was an angel straight out of Heaven," breathed the man, fervently;
+"but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
+was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
+babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one
+what's a-comin'."
+
+"She's eleven years old."
+
+"Yes, she might be," nodded the old man.
+
+"And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!" scolded
+Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind
+her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+"I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house," he
+said.
+
+"Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in
+the house!" snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+"I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly," he grinned.
+
+"As if ever anybody could be fond of her!" scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+"I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair," he said
+slowly.
+
+"Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither."
+
+"Oh, yes they did," nodded the old man. "And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should." The old man drew
+himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was
+the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has served and loved
+for long years.
+
+"But it don't seem possible--her and a lover," still maintained Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"You didn't know Miss Polly as I did," he argued. "She used ter be real
+handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be."
+
+"Handsome! Miss Polly!"
+
+"Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with
+posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white things--you'd
+see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old, Nancy."
+
+"Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good imitation of
+it--she has, she has!" sniffed Nancy.
+
+"Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her lover,"
+nodded Old Tom; "and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on wormwood an'
+thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly ter deal with."
+
+"I should say she was," declared Nancy, indignantly. "There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if 'twa'n't
+for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em. But some
+day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of course it'll be
+good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will."
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child; 'tain't
+best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best." And again he bent his old head
+to the work before him.
+
+"Nancy!" called a sharp voice.
+
+"Y-yes, ma'am," stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in
+Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four o'clock.
+Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the
+attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs,
+a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were
+no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All
+day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room
+was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not
+been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and
+down, up and down, trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash
+an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left
+the room.
+
+"Nancy," she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, "I found a
+fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must have been raised
+at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall
+expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive
+to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire you to meet her at the station.
+Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says
+'light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I
+know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose."
+
+"Yes, ma'am; but--you--"
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said
+crisply:
+
+"No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is
+all." And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of
+her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the
+dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+"'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she knows,
+indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would--and
+her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way across the continent!"
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy
+drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old
+Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss
+Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
+Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
+friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
+usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
+station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it "light hair, red-checked
+dress, straw hat." Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
+of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+"I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
+bang doors," she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
+
+"Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,"
+grinned Timothy. "Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
+the whistle now!"
+
+"Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me," chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
+she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
+red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
+back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
+the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
+her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
+standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
+
+"Are you Miss--Pollyanna?" she faltered. The next moment she found
+herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you," cried an eager voice in her
+ear. "Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
+hoped you would."
+
+"You--you did?" stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
+possibly have known her--and wanted her. "You--you did?" she repeated,
+trying to straighten her hat.
+
+"Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
+like," cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
+embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. "And now I know, and
+I'm glad you look just like you do look."
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
+had been most confusing.
+
+"This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk," she stammered.
+
+"Yes, I have," nodded Pollyanna, importantly. "I've got a brand-new one.
+The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them, when
+they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red carpet
+a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as half an
+aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that Mr.
+Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
+get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon
+Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here
+'tis," she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had
+to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
+Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During
+the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an
+uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed
+Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
+
+"There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride,"
+sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. "Of course, if 'tisn't
+far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the
+sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty;
+father told me--"
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes
+were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave
+lifting of her head.
+
+"Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
+explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red gingham
+dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd think 'twas
+queer. But there weren't any black things in the last missionary
+barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't
+suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn, you know--on
+both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to
+buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought
+to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didn't
+like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the children, of
+course, but not the black part."
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+"Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right."
+
+"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too," nodded Pollyanna, again with
+that choking little breath. "Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
+harder to be glad in black--"
+
+"Glad!" gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+"Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us,
+you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty hard to--to do
+it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him, so; and I couldn't
+help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have
+God and all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the Ladies' Aid.
+But now I'm sure it'll be easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm
+so glad I've got you!"
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her
+turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+"Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear," she faltered. "I'm
+only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!"
+
+"You--you AREN'T?" stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+"No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We--we
+ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!"
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry
+flash from his eyes.
+
+"But who ARE you?" questioned Pollyanna. "You don't look a bit like a
+Ladies' Aider!"
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+"I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an'
+hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that."
+
+"But there IS an Aunt Polly?" demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+"You bet your life there is," cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then." There was a moment's silence, then she
+went on brightly: "And do you know? I'm glad, after all, that she didn't
+come to meet me; because now I've got HER still coming, and I've got you
+besides."
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+"I call that a pretty slick compliment," he said. "Why don't you thank
+the little lady?"
+
+"I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly," faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+"I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the aunt I've
+got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me.
+He said she lived in a lovely great big house 'way on top of a hill."
+
+"She does. You can see it now," said Nancy.
+
+"It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead."
+
+"Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I
+never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt
+Polly rich, Nancy?"
+
+"Yes, Miss."
+
+"I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never
+knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some rich. They
+have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have
+ice-cream Sundays?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into
+Timothy's eyes.
+
+"No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never
+saw it on her table."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help liking
+ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, 'cause the
+ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache like Mrs. White's
+did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got
+the carpets, though."
+
+"Yes, she's got the carpets."
+
+"In every room?"
+
+"Well, in almost every room," answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the
+thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," exulted Pollyanna. "I love carpets. We didn't have
+any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel, and one
+of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too, perfectly
+beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling and a kitty and some
+lambs and a lion--not together, you know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of
+course the Bible says they will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is,
+I mean Mrs. White's haven't. Don't you just love pictures?"
+
+"I--I don't know," answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+"I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the barrels much,
+you know. There did two come once, though. But one was so good father
+sold it to get money to buy me some shoes with; and the other was so bad
+it fell to pieces just as soon as we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you
+know. And I cried. But I'm glad now we didn't have any of those nice
+things, 'cause I shall like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used
+to 'em, you see. Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in
+the barrels after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?" she broke off fervently, as they turned into
+the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+"Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy Durgin.
+You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!"
+
+"Leave! I should say not," grinned the youth.
+
+"You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that kid
+'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!"
+
+"Fun!--fun!" repeated Nancy, indignantly, "I guess it'll be somethin'
+more than fun for that blessed child--when them two tries ter live
+tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some rock ter fly to for
+refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!" she
+vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked up
+from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl appeared in the
+sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand with "duty" written large
+on every coldly extended finger.
+
+"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her
+aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough that
+you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You don't know how
+perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after you've
+had just the Ladies' Aid!"
+
+"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's
+acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the
+small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the
+doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough,
+please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you
+look like."
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to look at,
+anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to explain about the
+red gingham and the black velvet basque with white spots on the elbows.
+I told Nancy how father said--"
+
+"Yes; well, never mind now what your father said," interrupted Miss
+Polly, crisply. "You had a trunk, I presume?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own, I
+mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in them
+lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White said she
+thought I ought to have those. You see, father--"
+
+"Pollyanna," interrupted her aunt again, sharply, "there is one thing
+that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I
+do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me."
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--" She hesitated, and her aunt filled
+the pause.
+
+"We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I
+presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may follow
+me, Pollyanna."
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room.
+Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
+
+"After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk about
+father," Pollyanna was thinking. "It'll be easier, maybe--if I don't
+talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk
+about him." And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her aunt's "kindness,"
+blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk skirt
+rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of
+soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous
+carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of
+picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace
+curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly," breathed the little girl, rapturously;
+"what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be
+you're so rich!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached
+the head of the stairs. "I'm surprised at you--making a speech like that
+to me!"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?" queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
+
+"Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to
+be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,"
+declared the lady; "certainly not, of RICHES!"
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway
+door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room.
+Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from
+herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness
+would not destroy valuable furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of
+vanity showing thus early--it was all the more fortunate that the room
+planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more
+eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that
+no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed
+unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting
+problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors
+was waiting now her room--the dear, beautiful room full of curtains,
+rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her
+aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At
+the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners
+where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were
+stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too.
+Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it seemed so hard to
+breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
+
+"There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see.
+Have you your key?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+"When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud
+not merely with your head."
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you
+need here," she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water
+pitcher. "I will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six
+o'clock," she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking
+after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare
+floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that
+had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away
+Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on
+her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+"There, there, you poor lamb," she crooned, dropping to the floor and
+drawing the little girl into her arms. "I was just a-fearin! I'd find
+you like this, like this."
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked," she sobbed. "I just can't
+make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more
+than I did."
+
+"No more they did, neither," declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+"Oh-h!--NANCY!" The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+"There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course," she cried briskly.
+"Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this trunk and take out
+your dresses in no time, no time."
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+"There aren't very many there, anyway," she faltered.
+
+"Then they're all the sooner unpacked," declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+"That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?" she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+"Why, of--course," she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive dresses.
+Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the dresses in
+the closet, stacking the books on the table, and putting away the
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think so?"
+she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her head in
+the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully
+at the bare wall above.
+
+"And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too, 'cause where
+there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles."
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her
+hands joyously.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before," she breathed. "Look--'way off
+there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and
+the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody
+need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me
+have this room!"
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna
+hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+"Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?" she cried; then, fearfully: "This
+wasn't--YOUR room, was it?"
+
+"My room!" stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. "If you ain't
+a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt
+before--Oh, land! there's her bell!" After which amazing speech, Nancy
+sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the
+stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her "picture," as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she touched
+the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she endure the
+stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next
+moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out,
+drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her
+eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about
+the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed.
+Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery--against this window a
+huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms
+outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+"I believe I can do it," she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed
+nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to
+the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself
+from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the
+ground was--even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little
+fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her
+strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a
+bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an
+open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree
+stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there
+seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in--the top of that
+big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man,
+threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things,
+and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran through the open
+field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was
+thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the
+window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington
+homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the
+bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor
+with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the
+hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened
+intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.
+
+"Nancy," she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid
+appeared; "my niece is late. No, you need not call her," she added
+severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. "I told her what
+time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She
+may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down
+she may have bread and milk in the kitchen."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be
+looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back
+stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+"Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just cried
+herself to sleep," she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open
+the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. "Where are you?
+Where've you gone? Where HAVE you gone?" she panted, looking in the
+closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher.
+Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone," she wailed. "She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me
+told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel
+food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!"
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+"Gone? Heaven?" he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. "Well, Nancy, it do look like as
+if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,"
+he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined
+against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on
+top of a huge rock.
+
+"Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my
+say," declared Nancy, doggedly. "If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't
+furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll," she flung back over her
+shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+"For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,"
+panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just
+regretfully slid.
+
+"Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about
+me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they
+found I always came back all right."
+
+"But I didn't even know you'd went," cried Nancy, tucking the little
+girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. "I didn't see
+you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I
+do, I do."
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+"I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree."
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+"You did--what?"
+
+"Came down the tree, outside my window."
+
+"My stars and stockings!" gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. "I'd like ter
+know what yer aunt would say ter that!"
+
+"Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out," promised
+the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+"Mercy!" gasped Nancy. "No--no!"
+
+"Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!" cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.
+
+"No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about
+knowin' what she'd say, truly," stammered Nancy, determined to keep one
+scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. "But, say, we better hurry.
+I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know."
+
+"I'll help," promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna!" demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna
+took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+"I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause
+then you came after me," she shivered.
+
+"Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll
+have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't
+like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know."
+
+"But I couldn't. I was up here."
+
+"Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!" observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. "I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am."
+
+"Oh, I'm not. I'm glad."
+
+"Glad! Why?"
+
+"Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I don't see
+any trouble about being glad about that."
+
+"You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',"
+retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of Pollyanna's
+brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"Well, that's the game, you know, anyway."
+
+"The--GAME?"
+
+"Yes; the 'just being glad' game."
+
+"Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?"
+
+"Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely," rejoined
+Pollyanna. "We've played it always, ever since I was a little, little
+girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played it--some of them."
+
+"What is it? I ain't much on games, though."
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the gathering
+twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+"Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary barrel."
+
+"CRUTCHES!"
+
+"Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so; but
+when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any dolls come in,
+but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along as they might come in
+handy for some child, sometime. And that's when we began it."
+
+"Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that," declared
+Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+"Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to be
+glad about--no matter what 'twas," rejoined Pollyanna, earnestly. "And
+we began right then--on the crutches."
+
+"Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about--gettin' a
+pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There is--there is," she crowed. "But _I_ couldn't see it, either,
+Nancy, at first," she added, with quick honesty. "Father had to tell it
+to me."
+
+"Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME," almost snapped Nancy.
+
+"Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!" exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. "You see it's just as easy--when you know how!"
+
+"Well, of all the queer doin's!" breathed Nancy, regarding Pollyanna
+with almost fearful eyes.
+
+"Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely," maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. "And we've played it ever since. And the harder 'tis,
+the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's almost too
+hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there isn't anybody but
+a Ladies' Aid left."
+
+"Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top of the
+house with nothin' in it," growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"That was a hard one, at first," she admitted, "specially when I was so
+kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the game, anyway, and
+I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I happened to think how I
+hated to see my freckles in the looking-glass, and I saw that lovely
+picture out the window, too; so then I knew I'd found the things to be
+glad about. You see, when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort
+of forget the other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know."
+
+"Humph!" choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+"Most generally it doesn't take so long," sighed Pollyanna; "and lots of
+times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you know. I've got so
+used to playing it. It's a lovely game. F-father and I used to like it
+so much," she faltered. "I suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder
+now, as long as I haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will
+play it, though," she added, as an after-thought.
+
+"My stars and stockings!--HER!" breathed Nancy, behind her teeth. Then,
+aloud, she said doggedly: "See here, Miss Pollyanna, I ain't sayin' that
+I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that I know how, anyway; but
+I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I just will, I will!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug. "That'll be
+splendid! Won't we have fun?"
+
+"Er--maybe," conceded Nancy, in open doubt. "But you mustn't count too
+much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but I'm a-goin' ter
+make a most awful old try on this one. You're goin' ter have some one
+ter play it with, anyhow," she finished, as they entered the kitchen
+together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy's
+suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.
+Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+"Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you
+into the kitchen to eat bread and milk."
+
+"But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and
+Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit."
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+"Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard day,
+and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see
+what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Be
+careful how you handle it. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. See
+that you are down to that. Good-night."
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt's side
+and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+"I've had such a beautiful time, so far," she sighed happily. "I know
+I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before
+I came. Good-night," she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
+
+"Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. "What a most
+extraordinary child!" Then she frowned. "She's 'glad' I punished her,
+and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with
+me! Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her
+book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed
+into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+"I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit
+now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be
+glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
+If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it
+would be easier!"
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work,
+jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered jerkily:
+
+"If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches
+when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o'
+refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after
+her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not
+see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and
+she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
+Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna flew to the
+window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the garden her aunt
+was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid fingers, therefore, she
+made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide open.
+Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through the front
+screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush when
+Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just to be
+alive!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as erect
+as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her
+neck. "Is this the usual way you say good morning?"
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and down.
+
+"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you from
+my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T a Ladies'
+Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you looked so good I just
+had to come down and hug you!"
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think you
+understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then she turned
+and walked rapidly away.
+
+"Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?" asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked blurred as
+if with tears.
+
+"Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener," he answered. Timidly, but as if
+impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking hand and let
+it rest for a moment on her bright hair. "You are so like your mother,
+little Miss! I used ter know her when she was even littler than you be.
+You see, I used ter work in the garden--then."
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+"You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a little
+earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me about her!" And
+down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's
+side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen flying out
+the back door.
+
+"Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's," she panted,
+pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house;
+"and other times it means other meals. But it always means that
+you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no matter where ye be. If ye
+don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter
+be glad about in that!" she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house
+as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss
+Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies
+darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+"Nancy, where did those flies come from?"
+
+"I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen." Nancy had been
+too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
+
+"I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly," observed Pollyanna,
+amiably. "There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time
+upstairs."
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out
+the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+"Yours!" gasped Miss Polly. "What do you mean? Where did they come
+from?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the
+windows. I SAW some of them come in."
+
+"You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?"
+
+"Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly."
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was
+grave, but very red.
+
+"Nancy," directed her mistress, sharply, "you may set the muffins down
+and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows. Shut the
+doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every
+room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search."
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+"Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course,
+that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite
+forgotten YOUR duty."
+
+"My--duty?" Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+"Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your
+windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only
+unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I
+will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read."
+
+"To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!"
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together
+hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
+
+"Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly," she
+apologized timidly. "I won't raise the windows again."
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was
+over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out
+a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her niece's side.
+
+"This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your
+room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your
+things."
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many times
+magnified, cried joyously:
+
+"Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!" The next moment she skipped merrily from
+the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and
+opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up
+the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in
+every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room, she was
+greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why,
+I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet,
+and--"
+
+"That will do," observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. "Pollyanna, you may
+bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not
+suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course."
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned
+toward the closet.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid did--and
+THEY said they were shameful," she sighed. "But there were mostly things
+for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; and--did you
+ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?"
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at
+once.
+
+"Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!" she hurried on, with a
+hot blush. "I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see
+sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in this room, you
+know."
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna,
+plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was
+hurrying on.
+
+"Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about missionary
+barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you think you're going
+to--even when you think you won't. It was the barrels every time, too,
+that were hardest to play the game on, for father and--"
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father
+to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out
+all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+"They aren't nice, at all," she choked, "and they'd been black if it
+hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all I've
+got."
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate
+garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed
+frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I've got the best ones on," confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. "The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to
+clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they
+won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got nerves, his wife says;
+but he's got money, too, and they expect he'll give a lot toward the
+carpet--on account of the nerves, you know. I should think he'd be glad
+that if he did have the nerves he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?"
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the undergarments
+finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
+
+"You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home some,
+too."
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course. Mr.
+Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
+Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each
+day."
+
+"I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just glad to
+read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to half try to be
+glad, either, for I like best to read to myself--on account of the big
+words, you know."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. "Have you studied
+music?"
+
+"Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not, Aunt
+Polly. I'd rather, truly."
+
+"Very likely," observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
+"Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly
+instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Pollyanna sighed. "The Ladies' Aid taught me that. But I
+had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding your needle
+like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs. White thought
+backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming (or else the other
+way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in putting you on patchwork ever,
+at all."
+
+"Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer, Pollyanna. I
+shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I
+presume."
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+"They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn't
+got far. They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
+They were GOING to begin on bread; but there wasn't two of 'em that made
+it alike, so after arguing it all one sewing-meeting, they decided to
+take turns at me one forenoon a week--in their own kitchens, you know.
+I'd only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had
+to stop." Her voice broke.
+
+"Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!" scorned Miss Polly. "I think
+we can remedy that very soon." She paused in thought for a minute, then
+went on slowly: "At nine o'clock every morning you will read aloud one
+half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in
+order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons, after half-past nine, you will
+spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you
+will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music. I
+shall, of course, procure a teacher at once for you," she finished
+decisively, as she arose from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at all
+just to--to live."
+
+"To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all the
+time!"
+
+"Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those things,
+Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the time you're
+asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing the things you want
+to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself, of course), climbing hills,
+talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy, and finding out all about
+the houses and the people and everything everywhere all through the
+perfectly lovely streets I came through yesterday. That's what I call
+living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn't living!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+"Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a
+proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it seems to me if
+I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have proper care and
+instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours by seeing that that
+care and instruction are not ungratefully wasted."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I LOVE
+YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!"
+
+"Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful," vouchsafed Miss
+Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice called
+after her:
+
+"Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you wanted
+to--to give away."
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town
+at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my
+niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from doing my duty by you
+if I should let you appear out in any one of them."
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please," she called wistfully, "isn't there ANY way you can
+be glad about all that--duty business?"
+
+"What?" Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly, with
+very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the stairs. "Don't be
+impertinent, Pollyanna!"
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one of the
+straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one endless round
+of duty.
+
+"I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that," she
+sighed. "I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something to be
+glad about in all that duty business."
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
+on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
+began to put away the dresses.
+
+"There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see," she said
+aloud; "unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!" Whereupon she
+laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
+four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
+from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
+exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
+the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
+last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
+a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
+it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
+keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
+herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
+she expressed it to one of the clerks: "When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
+lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
+that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!"
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
+and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
+on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
+a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
+very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
+miles away at "The Corners," where lived her own dear mother, and her
+equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
+Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.
+
+"And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names," sighed
+Nancy. "They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
+hate 'Nancy'!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?"
+
+"Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
+and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
+in 'em, then."
+
+"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.
+
+"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well,"
+retorted Nancy, "and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT
+name's just grand!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow," she chuckled, "you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'"
+
+"Hephzibah!"
+
+"Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she
+doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just
+as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't
+like to be hurrahed at."
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+"Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never
+hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My,
+I guess I AM glad--" She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the
+little girl. "Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that
+'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+"Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the
+times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots
+of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about,
+you know. And most generally there is something about everything that
+you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it."
+
+"Well, m-maybe," granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet
+come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes
+Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise
+them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew
+out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to side of
+the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to her that it must
+have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed, felt her way
+across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the moon flung
+a path of silver half-way across the floor from the east dormer window.
+With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome darkness to the right and to
+the left, Pollyanna drew a quick breath and pattered straight into that
+silvery path, and on to the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but it did
+not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of fairy-like beauty, and
+there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air that would feel so good to
+hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something else:
+she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
+Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
+her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
+little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
+horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
+outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
+roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
+Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
+of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
+a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
+they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
+fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
+fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
+thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
+so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
+in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
+stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
+after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
+delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
+roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
+rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
+end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
+her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
+fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
+up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+"I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come," she murmured, blinking
+up at the stars; "else I couldn't have had this!"
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
+frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
+to Timothy:
+
+"Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on
+the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis
+or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the
+east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down here--but
+hurry, quick!"
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by
+a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes
+to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting
+through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean?" cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+"Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!" she stammered. "Don't look so scared! It
+isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. It's
+only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so
+the flies couldn't carry those germ-things in."
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal
+precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son.
+Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were gone; then she said
+sternly:
+
+"Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all
+the extraordinary children!" she ejaculated a little later, as, with
+Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into
+the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath
+of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long
+quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+"For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with
+me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my
+duty to keep you where I know where you are."
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+"With you?--in your bed?" she cried rapturously. "Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt
+Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to sleep
+with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me, you know; not a
+Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens
+didn't come! Wouldn't you be?"
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to
+tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since
+Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna--and for the
+third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her
+punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss
+Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into
+something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had
+at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied
+cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these
+things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time,
+also, to "just live," as she expressed it, for almost all of every
+afternoon from two until six o'clock was hers to do with as she
+liked--provided she did not "like" to do certain things already
+prohibited by Aunt Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to
+the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a relief to Aunt
+Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss
+Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate "What an extraordinary
+child!" and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their
+conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted.
+Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington
+homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the
+outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far
+away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna's
+age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+"Oh, no, I don't mind it at all," she explained to Nancy. "I'm happy
+just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the
+people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?"
+
+"Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em," retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for "an errand
+to run," so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or
+another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To
+herself Pollyanna always called him "the Man," no matter if she met a
+dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two things
+that the "just men" never wore. His face was clean shaven and rather
+pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was somewhat gray. He walked
+erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, which made Pollyanna
+vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day
+spoke to him.
+
+"How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?" she called cheerily, as she
+approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped uncertainly.
+
+"Did you speak--to me?" he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?"
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+"'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice," she called
+out cheerfully.
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna
+laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner,
+the man stopped abruptly.
+
+"See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every
+day?"
+
+"I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm so glad
+you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your name yet."
+
+"Well, of all the--" The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on
+faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually
+smiling lips.
+
+"Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an introduction. I
+don't know HIS name, yet," she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly
+Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she
+thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and
+a member of her church--it was the duty of all the church members
+to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow
+usually on Thursday afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy.
+To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given
+it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+"And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Nancy had declared in
+private afterwards to Pollyanna; "though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the
+job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!"
+
+"But I'd love to do it, Nancy."
+
+"Well, you won't--after you've done it once," predicted Nancy, sourly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there wouldn't a
+soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that cantankerous. All
+is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care of her."
+
+"But, why, Nancy?"
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has happened,
+has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days of the week ain't
+run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound ter say she wished 'twas
+Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're pretty sure ter hear she wanted
+chicken--but if you DID bring her chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for
+lamb broth!"
+
+"Why, what a funny woman," laughed Pollyanna. "I think I shall like
+to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and different. I love
+DIFFERENT folks."
+
+"Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the sake
+of the rest of us!" Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in at
+the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling,
+indeed, at the prospect of meeting this "different" Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
+
+"How do you do?" began Pollyanna politely. "I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please."
+
+"Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to see her,"
+muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The
+girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at
+the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed the door,
+Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom her eyes to the
+gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman half-sitting up in the bed
+across the room. Pollyanna advanced at once.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable
+to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly."
+
+"Dear me! Jelly?" murmured a fretful voice. "Of course I'm very much
+obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be lamb broth to-day."
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+"Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,"
+she said.
+
+"What?" The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+"Why, nothing, much," apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; "and of course
+it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that Nancy said it was
+chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought
+chicken--but maybe 'twas the other way, and Nancy forgot."
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a most
+unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know this.
+
+"Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?" she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too! That
+would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna Whittier,
+Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live with her. That's
+why I'm here with the jelly this morning."
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had sat
+interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she fell back on
+her pillow listlessly.
+
+"Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--" She
+stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of subject. "I
+never slept a wink last night--not a wink!"
+
+"O dear, I wish _I_ didn't," sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly on the
+little stand and seating herself comfortably in the nearest chair. "You
+lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't you think so?"
+
+"Lose time--sleeping!" exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+"Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a pity we
+can't live nights, too."
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!" she cried. "Here! do you go
+to that window and pull up the curtain," she directed. "I should like to
+know what you look like!"
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+"O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?" she sighed, as she
+went to the window; "--and just when I was being so glad it was dark and
+you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!" she broke off excitedly,
+as she turned back to the bed; "I'm so glad you wanted to see me,
+because now I can see you! They didn't tell me you were so pretty!"
+
+"Me!--pretty!" scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+"Why, yes. Didn't you know it?" cried Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, no, I didn't," retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had lived
+forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been too busy
+wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they
+were.
+
+"Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too,
+and curly," cooed Pollyanna. "I love black curls. (That's one of the
+things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And you've got two
+little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I
+should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass."
+
+"The glass!" snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow. "Yes,
+well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these days--and you
+wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!"
+
+"Why, no, of course not," agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. "But
+wait--just let me show you," she exclaimed, skipping over to the bureau
+and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman with a
+critical gaze.
+
+"I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a
+little before I let you see it," she proposed. "May I fix your hair,
+please?"
+
+"Why, I--suppose so, if you want to," permitted Mrs. Snow, grudgingly;
+"but 'twon't stay, you know."
+
+"Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair," exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. "I sha'n't
+do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to see how pretty
+you are; but some day I'm going to take it all down and have a perfectly
+lovely time with it," she cried, touching with soft fingers the waving
+hair above the sick woman's forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a refractory
+curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at the neck, or
+shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head might have a better
+pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning prodigiously, and openly
+scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to
+tingle with a feeling perilously near to excitement.
+
+"There!" panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase near by
+and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the best effect.
+"Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!" And she held out the mirror
+in triumph.
+
+"Humph!" grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely. "I like
+red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade, anyhow, before
+night, so what's the difference!"
+
+"But I should think you'd be glad they did fade," laughed Pollyanna,
+"'cause then you can have the fun of getting some more. I just love your
+hair fluffed out like that," she finished with a satisfied gaze. "Don't
+you?"
+
+"Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the
+pillow as I do."
+
+"Of course not--and I'm glad, too," nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+"because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad
+it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair
+like mine does."
+
+"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray too
+soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the
+mirror before her face.
+
+"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it," sighed
+Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+"Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black
+hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day as I do!"
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+"Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?" she mused
+aloud.
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Be glad about things."
+
+"Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I
+should say it would," retorted Mrs. Snow. "If you don't think so, just
+tell me something to be glad about; that's all!"
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet and
+clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now, but
+I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next time I come
+I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely time! Good-by," she
+called again, as she tripped through the doorway.
+
+"Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?" ejaculated Mrs. Snow,
+staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head and picked up
+the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+"That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake," she
+muttered under her breath. "I declare, I didn't know it could look so
+pretty. But then, what's the use?" she sighed, dropping the little glass
+into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the mirror
+still lay among the bedclothes--thought it had been carefully hidden from sight.
+
+"Why, mother--the curtain is up!" cried Milly, dividing her amazed stare
+between the window and the pink in her mother's hair.
+
+"Well, what if it is?" snapped the sick woman. "I needn't stay in the
+dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?"
+
+"Why, n-no, of course not," rejoined Milly, in hasty conciliation, as
+she reached for the medicine bottle. "It's only--well, you know very
+well that I've tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages and you
+wouldn't."
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on her
+nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+"I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead of lamb
+broth, for a change!"
+
+"Why--mother!"
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer
+behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months
+had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however,
+with a bright smile.
+
+"It isn't so nice to-day, is it?" she called blithesomely. "I'm glad it
+doesn't rain always, anyhow!"
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna
+decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore
+(which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She
+thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man
+was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the
+ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the
+glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a
+special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.
+
+"How do you do?" she chirped. "I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't
+you?"
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+"See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing right
+now, once for all," he began testily. "I've got something besides
+the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not."
+Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+"No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you."
+
+"Yes; well--Eh? What?" he broke off sharply, in sudden understanding of
+her words.
+
+"I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you know--that
+the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it did if you
+only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit as if you WERE
+thinking of it!"
+
+"Well, of all the--" ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.
+He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back,
+still frowning.
+
+"See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?"
+
+"I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says. Still,
+I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better,
+sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so."
+
+"Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?" The
+man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still
+trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but that
+you're just as good, of course--maybe better," she added in hurried
+politeness. "You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you look!"
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+"Well, of all the--" he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as
+before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight
+into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really
+pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+"Good afternoon," he greeted her a little stiffly. "Perhaps I'd better
+say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day."
+
+"But you don't have to tell me," nodded Pollyanna, brightly. "I KNEW you
+knew it just as soon as I saw you."
+
+"Oh, you did, did you?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile."
+
+"Humph!" grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke
+first, though usually he said little but "good afternoon." Even that,
+however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna
+one day when the greeting was given.
+
+"Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna," she gasped, "did that man SPEAK TO YOU?"
+
+"Why, yes, he always does--now," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+"'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?" demanded Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+"I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the
+introducing, but he didn't."
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+"But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I guess,
+except when he just has to, for business, and all that. He's John
+Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
+He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for him--comes down ter the
+hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on
+him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he
+wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more'n half the time--only it'll be
+somethin' CHEAP! She knows that without no tellin'."
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor. Father and
+I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls most generally.
+We used to say how glad we were we liked beans--that is, we said it
+specially when we were looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that
+was sixty cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?"
+
+"Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ain't
+poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
+There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills,
+if he wanted to--and not know it."
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+"As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they
+come to try to chew 'em!"
+
+"Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it," shrugged Nancy. "He ain't
+spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it."
+
+"Oh, for the heathen," surmised Pollyanna. "How perfectly splendid!
+That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told
+me."
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to
+come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face, saw
+something that prevented the words being spoken.
+
+"Humph!" she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on: "But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly, Miss
+Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone in a great
+big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they say. Some says he's
+crazy, and some jest cross; and some says he's got a skeleton in his
+closet."
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" shuddered Pollyanna. "How can he keep such a dreadful
+thing? I should think he'd throw it away!"
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead
+of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from
+correcting the mistake.
+
+"And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious," she went on. "Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know."
+
+"Oh, a missionary," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+"Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes
+books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack he's found in
+them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter want ter spend no
+money here--leastways, not for jest livin'."
+
+"Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen," declared Pollyanna.
+"But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just like Mrs. Snow,
+only he's a different different."
+
+"Well, I guess he is--rather," chuckled Nancy.
+
+"I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me," sighed Pollyanna
+contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as
+at first, in a darkened room.
+
+"It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother," announced Milly, in a
+tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
+
+"Oh, it's you, is it?" asked a fretful voice from the bed. "I remember
+you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you
+had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday."
+
+"Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday than
+to-day is, then," laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room,
+and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. "My! but aren't you
+dark here, though? I can't see you a bit," she cried, unhesitatingly
+crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. "I want to see if
+you've fixed your hair like I did--oh, you haven't! But, never mind; I'm
+glad you haven't, after all, 'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later.
+But now I want you to see what I've brought you."
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+"Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,"
+she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket. "Well, what is
+it?"
+
+"Guess! What do you want?" Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her
+face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+"Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of," she sighed. "After all, they
+all taste alike!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?"
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had so long
+been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to state off-hand
+what she DID want seemed impossible--until she knew what she had.
+Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
+waiting.
+
+"Well, of course, there's lamb broth--"
+
+"I've got it!" crowed Pollyanna.
+
+"But that's what I DIDN'T want," sighed the sick woman, sure now of what
+her stomach craved. "It was chicken I wanted."
+
+"Oh, I've got that, too," chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+"Both of them?" she demanded.
+
+"Yes--and calf's-foot jelly," triumphed Pollyanna. "I was just bound you
+should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of
+course, there's only a little of each--but there's some of all of 'em!
+I'm so glad you did want chicken," she went on contentedly, as she
+lifted the three little bowls from her basket. "You see, I got to
+thinking on the way here--what if you should say tripe, or onions,
+or something like that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a
+shame--when I'd tried so hard?" she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally to find
+something she had lost.
+
+"There! I'm to leave them all," announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the
+three bowls in a row on the table. "Like enough it'll be lamb broth you
+want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?" she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+"Very poorly, thank you," murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her
+usual listless attitude. "I lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins
+next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly
+wild. She was at it all the morning--every minute! I'm sure, I don't
+know what I shall do!"
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies' Aiders,
+you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she
+couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier if she could
+have. Can you?"
+
+"Can I--what?"
+
+"Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position when the
+music gets too hard to stand."
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+"Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed," she rejoined a little
+irritably.
+
+"Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?" nodded
+Pollyanna. "Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says.
+She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving crazy if it
+hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being deaf, so."
+
+"Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't know Mrs.
+White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and she came to visit
+'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the house. Well, they had
+such an awful time making her understand ANYTHING, that after that,
+every time the piano commenced to play across the street, Mrs. White
+felt so glad she COULD hear it, that she didn't mind so much that she
+DID hear it, 'cause she couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if
+she was deaf and couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You
+see, she was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it."
+
+"The--game?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what you can
+be glad about."
+
+"GLAD about! What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to tell you
+something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though you did have to
+lie here abed all day."
+
+"Oh!" scoffed the woman. "THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didn't
+suppose you were in earnest any more than I was."
+
+"Oh, yes, I was," nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; "and I found it, too.
+But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always, when 'tis hard.
+And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldn't think of anything for
+a while. Then I got it."
+
+"Did you, really? Well, what is it?" Mrs. Snow's voice was sarcastically
+polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know," she announced impressively.
+Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+"Well, really!" she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable tone of
+voice.
+
+"And now I'll tell you the game," proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. "It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so hard. And
+there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's like this." And
+she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll
+that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+"Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna," she said with dreary
+listlessness. "She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the way. She
+says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to make up before
+dark."
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+"All right," she sighed. "I'll hurry." Suddenly she laughed. "I suppose
+I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I, Mrs. Snow?"
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly, whose eyes
+were wide open with surprise, saw that there were tears on the wasted
+cheeks.
+
+"Good-by," flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the door.
+"I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But maybe I can
+next time!"
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy days,
+indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy they were.
+Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy;
+but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I should have
+failed signally in my duty."
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss Polly; but
+one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+"Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that they
+should be just happy days?" she asked wistfully.
+
+"That is what I mean, Pollyanna."
+
+"They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?"
+
+"Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to show
+for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!"
+
+"Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?" questioned Pollyanna, a
+little anxiously.
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now, you
+won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Game? What game?"
+
+"Why, that father--" Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+"N-nothing," she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"That will do for this morning, Pollyanna," she said tersely. And the
+sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic room,
+met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!" she cried. "You were coming up
+to see me! Come right in. I love company," she finished, scampering up
+the stairs and throwing her door wide open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She had been
+planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the cedar chest near
+the east window. But to her unbounded surprise now, she found herself,
+not in the main attic before the cedar chest, but in Pollyanna's little
+room sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs--so many, many times
+since Pollyanna came, Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some
+utterly unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+"I love company," said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she were
+dispensing the hospitality of a palace; "specially since I've had this
+room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but 'twas
+a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half as nice as owned ones, are
+they? And of course I do own this one, don't I?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna," murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she
+did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+"And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got the
+carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--" With a painful
+blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely
+different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
+
+"What's that, Pollyanna?"
+
+"N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it."
+
+"Probably not," returned Miss Polly, coldly; "but you did say it, so
+suppose we have the rest of it."
+
+"But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on pretty
+carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of course--"
+
+"PLANNING on them!" interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+"I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly," she apologized. "It was
+only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I suppose. Oh,
+we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were little, you know, and
+one had ink spots, and the other holes; and there never were only those
+two pictures; the one fath--I mean the good one we sold, and the bad one
+that broke. Of course if it hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have
+wanted them, so--pretty things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to
+planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be
+here, and--and--but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I
+mean, a few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there couldn't
+be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and you've been so
+good to me, that--"
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," she said stiffly.
+
+"You have said quite enough, I'm sure." The next minute she had swept
+down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor did it
+suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic to find a
+white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy, crisply:
+
+"Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this morning to
+the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there
+for the present."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Nancy aloud.
+
+"O glory!" said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+"And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're ter
+sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You are--you are!"
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+"You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?"
+
+"I guess you'll think it's really and truly," prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she
+had taken from the closet. "I'm told ter take down yer things, and I'm
+goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a chance ter change her mind."
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the imminent
+risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying down-stairs, two steps at
+a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her
+goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that room's
+got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three pictures, besides
+the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look the same way. Oh, Aunt
+Polly!"
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change, of
+course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust you will
+take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please pick up that
+chair; and you have banged two doors in the last half-minute." Miss
+Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly because, for some inexplicable
+reason, she felt inclined to cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling
+inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+"Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors," she admitted cheerfully. "You
+see I'd just found out about the room, and I reckon you'd have banged
+doors if--" Pollyanna stopped short and eyed her aunt with new interest.
+"Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang doors?"
+
+"I hope--not, Pollyanna!" Miss Polly's voice was properly shocked.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!" Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+"A shame!" repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+"Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have banged
+'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant that you weren't
+ever glad over anything--or you would have banged 'em. You couldn't have
+helped it. And I'm so sorry you weren't ever glad over anything!"
+
+"PollyANna!" gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the
+distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had
+gone to help Nancy bring down "her things."
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but then, of
+course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some changes--none
+of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down the road.
+When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to find any one who
+claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
+
+"And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too," she told her
+aunt in happy confidence; "'cause I wanted to bring it home all the
+time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it live here."
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery
+in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats--not
+even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+"Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm sure, and
+all mangy and fleay."
+
+"I know it, poor little thing," crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking
+into the little creature's frightened eyes. "And it's all trembly, too,
+it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that we're going to keep
+it, of course."
+
+"No--nor anybody else," retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
+
+"Oh, yes, they do," nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her
+aunt's words. "I told everybody we should keep it, if I didn't find
+where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have it--poor little lonesome
+thing!"
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The curious
+helpless feeling that had been hers so often since Pollyanna's arrival,
+had her now fast in its grip.
+
+"Of course I knew," hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, "that you wouldn't
+let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when you'd just
+taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if you'd let me
+keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have
+anybody. I knew you'd feel that way," she nodded happily, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Miss Polly. "I don't--" But
+Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+"Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is going
+to bring up along with me!" And Aunt Polly, in the sitting room--who
+abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of dismay, powerless
+to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn, perhaps, than
+was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her dumfounded amazement, found
+herself figuring as a kind protector and an angel of mercy--a role that
+Pollyanna so unhesitatingly thrust upon her as a matter of course,
+that the woman--who abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if
+possible--found herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a small,
+ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection for him, Miss
+Polly did have something to say. It happened after this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calf's-foot
+jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of
+friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna
+had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow
+herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was
+not playing it very well--she had been sorry for everything for so long,
+that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning
+fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had said that she
+was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly, because that was just what
+she had been wanting--she did not know that Milly, at the front door,
+had told Pollyanna that the minister's wife had already that day sent
+over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside,
+whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+"Hullo," smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+"Hullo yourself," he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot jelly," she
+chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to
+whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his
+hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass
+near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she was "used
+to Ladies' Aiders," and "didn't mind," she had sighed at times for some
+companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of
+this one.
+
+"My name's Pollyanna Whittier," she began pleasantly. "What's yours?"
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he
+settled back.
+
+"Jimmy Bean," he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+"Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some folks
+don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house. Where do you
+live?"
+
+"Nowhere."
+
+"Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere," asserted
+Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place."
+
+"Oh! Where is it?"
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+"Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!"
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she
+did not like to be called "silly." Still, he was somebody besides--old
+folks. "Where did you live--before?" she queried.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!" sighed the boy
+impatiently.
+
+"I have to be," retorted Pollyanna calmly, "else I couldn't find out a
+thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so much."
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a
+willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this
+time.
+
+"All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old goin'
+on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home; but they've
+got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I wa'n't never
+wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live
+somewheres else--but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd LIKE a
+home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of
+a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I hain't had folks
+since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've tried four houses, but--they
+didn't want me--though I said I expected ter work, 'course. There! Is
+that all you want ter know?" The boy's voice had broken a little over
+the last two sentences.
+
+"Why, what a shame!" sympathized Pollyanna. "And didn't there anybody
+want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because after--after my
+father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the Ladies' Aid for me, until
+Aunt Polly said she'd take--" Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of
+a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
+
+"Oh, I know just the place for you," she cried. "Aunt Polly'll take
+you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she take Fluffy
+and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love them, or any place to
+go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Polly'll take
+you! You don't know how good and kind she is!"
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+"Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real strong!"
+He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+"Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the
+world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And there's
+rooms--heaps of 'em," she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging
+at his arm. "It's an awful big house. Maybe, though," she added a little
+anxiously, as they hurried on, "maybe you'll have to sleep in the attic
+room. I did, at first. But there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so
+hot, and the flies can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on
+their feet. Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll
+let you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And you've
+got freckles, too,"--with a critical glance--"so you'll be glad there
+isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any
+wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in that room at all, I'm
+sure," panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of
+her breath for purposes other than talking.
+
+"Gorry!" exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added: "I shouldn't think anybody who could talk
+like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time
+with!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that," she retorted; "for when I'm
+talking, YOU don't have to!"
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," she triumphed, "just look a-here! I've got something
+ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up.
+It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at
+first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I shall need him the most
+of the time to play with, I reckon."
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but
+she thought she understood enough.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did
+you find him?" she demanded sharply.
+
+The "dirty little boy" fell back a step and looked toward the door.
+Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+"There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as the Man.
+And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy is--just like Fluffy
+and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon he'll improve all
+right by washing, just as they did, and--Oh, I 'most forgot again," she
+broke off with a laugh. "This is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Well, what is he doing here?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!" Pollyanna's eyes were wide with
+surprise. "He's for you. I brought him home--so he could live here, you
+know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me,
+and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of
+course he's even nicer than cats and dogs."
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her
+throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her.
+With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly
+erect.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing you've
+done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad enough but you
+must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, who--"
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came
+up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly
+fearlessly.
+
+"I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't have
+come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't 'a' made me,
+a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd be jest dyin' ter
+take me in. So, there!" And he wheeled about and stalked from the room
+with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," choked Pollyanna. "Why, I thought you'd be GLAD to
+have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss
+Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The "good and kind" of the boy's
+words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was
+almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom
+of her will power.
+
+"Pollyanna," she cried sharply, "WILL you stop using that everlasting
+word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning till night until I
+think I shall grow wild!"
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly," she breathed, "I should think you'd be glad to have
+me gl--Oh!" she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying
+blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook
+him.
+
+"Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am," she
+panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+"Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you," retorted the boy, sullenly. "But I
+ain't no beggar!" he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+"Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie," appealed
+Pollyanna. "Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow; and
+I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and kind,
+really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it right. I do
+wish I could find some place for you, though!"
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+"Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar, you
+know."
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face
+illumined.
+
+"Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before them.
+That's what father always did, when he wanted anything--educating the
+heathen and new carpets, you know."
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a Ladies'
+Aid?"
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+"Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know what a
+Ladies' Aid is!"
+
+"Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin'," grunted the boy, turning and
+beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+"It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give
+suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies' Aid is.
+They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven't
+seen this one here, but they're always good, I reckon. I'm going to tell
+them about you this afternoon."
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round an' hear
+a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!"
+
+"Oh, but you wouldn't be there," argued Pollyanna, quickly. "I'd go
+alone, of course, and tell them."
+
+"You would?"
+
+"Yes; and I'd tell it better this time," hurried on Pollyanna, quick to
+see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. "And there'd be some of
+'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home."
+
+"I'd work--don't forget ter say that," cautioned the boy.
+
+"Of course not," promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point
+was gained. "Then I'll let you know to-morrow."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house."
+
+"All right. I'll be there." The boy paused before he went on slowly:
+"Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see
+I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't leave till this
+mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I wasn't comin' back, else
+they'd pretend I couldn't come--though I'm thinkin' they won't do no
+worryin' when I don't show up sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know.
+They don't CARE!"
+
+"I know," nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. "But I'm sure, when
+I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and folks that do care
+all ready for you. Good-by!" she called brightly, as she turned back
+toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been
+watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a
+bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked
+listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In
+her ears still was the boy's scornful "you was so good and kind." In her
+heart was a curious sense of desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent
+meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried
+to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four
+times she was obliged to break off a "glad" in the middle of it, much
+to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved
+her head wearily.
+
+"There, there, child, say it, if you want to," she sighed. "I'm sure I'd
+rather you did than not if it's going to make all this fuss."
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+"Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say it. You
+see I've played it so long."
+
+"You've--what?" demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+"Played it--the game, you know, that father--" Pollyanna stopped with a
+painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent
+one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's wife over
+the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies'
+Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went
+up-stairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry
+for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
+not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean
+before the Ladies' Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called
+Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the chapel
+next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going,
+therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.
+
+"I want them all to be there," she said to herself; "else the very one
+that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy
+Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always means three, really--to
+Ladies' Aiders."
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel
+steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of
+feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a
+brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little
+timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all,
+these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear
+Ladies' Aid.
+
+"How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?" she faltered politely. "I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU--only
+I don't know you all together this way."
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this
+rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had
+heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just
+then.
+
+"I--I've come to--to lay the case before you," stammered Pollyanna,
+after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father's familiar
+phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+"Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?" asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's
+wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+"Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies' Aiders. It
+was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father."
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+"Yes, dear. What is it?"
+
+"Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean," sighed Pollyanna. "He hasn't any home
+except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him, anyhow, he
+thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the common kind, that has
+a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks, you know, that'll care. He's
+ten years old going on eleven. I thought some of you might like him--to
+live with you, you know."
+
+"Well, did you ever!" murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause that
+followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to say; he will work," she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to talk
+among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said she could
+not understand. She did gather, after a time, however, that there was
+no woman there who had a home to give him, though every woman seemed to
+think that some of the others might take him, as there were several who
+had no little boys of their own already in their homes. But there was no
+one who agreed herself to take him. Then she heard the minister's
+wife suggest timidly that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his
+support and education instead of sending quite so much money this year
+to the little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all at once,
+and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before. It seemed that
+their society was famous for its offering to Hindu missions, and several
+said they should die of mortification if it should be less this year.
+Some of what was said at this time Pollyanna again thought she could not
+have understood, too, for it sounded almost as if they did not care at
+all what the money DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their
+society in a certain "report" "headed the list"--and of course that
+could not be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and
+not quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last she
+found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was very sorry,
+too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or anything but sad, to
+tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies' Aid had decided that they
+would rather send all their money to bring up the little India boys than
+to save out enough to bring up one little boy in their own town, for
+which they would not get "a bit of credit in the report," according to
+the tall lady who wore spectacles.
+
+"Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen, and I
+shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there," sighed Pollyanna to herself,
+as she trudged sorrowfully along. "But they acted as if little boys HERE
+weren't any account--only little boys 'way off. I should THINK, though,
+they'd rather see Jimmy Bean grow--than just a report!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It had
+been a hard day, for all it had been a "vacation one" (as she termed
+the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking lesson), and
+Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite so much good as a
+walk through the green quiet of Pendleton Woods. Up Pendleton Hill,
+therefore, she climbed steadily, in spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+"I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway," she was telling
+herself; "and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the way of the
+woods, even if I do have to climb to get there."
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew by
+experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than ever,
+notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell Jimmy Bean
+to-morrow.
+
+"I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud," sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of vivid blue
+between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. "Anyhow, if they were up
+here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy Bean for their little
+boy, all right," she finished, secure in her conviction, but unable to
+give a reason for it, even to herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her, still
+barking.
+
+"Hullo, doggie--hullo!" Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog and
+looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once before, she
+was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John Pendleton. She was
+looking now, hoping to see him. For some minutes she watched eagerly,
+but he did not appear. Then she turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He was
+still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of alarm. He was
+running back and forth, too, in the path ahead. Soon they reached a side
+path, and down this the little dog fairly flew, only to come back at
+once, whining and barking.
+
+"Ho! That isn't the way home," laughed Pollyanna, still keeping to the
+main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and forth,
+between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking and whining
+pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and every glance from
+his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with appeal--so eloquent that at
+last Pollyanna understood, turned, and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not long
+before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man lying motionless
+at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock a few yards from the
+side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned his
+head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?"
+
+"Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine," snapped the
+man irritably. "See here, how much do you know? What can you do? Have
+you got any sense?"
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do a
+great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs. Rawson,
+said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one day--they didn't know
+I heard, though."
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+"There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen." He paused, and with some difficulty
+reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought out a bunch of
+keys, singling out one between his thumb and forefinger. "Straight
+through the path there, about five minutes' walk, is my house. This key
+will admit you to the side door under the porte-cochere. Do you know
+what a porte-cochere is?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's the roof
+I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found me."
+
+"Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through the
+vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big, flat-topped desk
+in the middle of the room you'll find a telephone. Do you know how to
+use a telephone?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Polly now," cut in the man scowlingly, as he tried to
+move himself a little.
+
+"Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find somewhere
+around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the side, but it
+probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I suppose, when you see
+one!"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of queer
+names, and--"
+
+"Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little Eagle
+Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at once with a
+stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides that. Tell him to
+come by the path from the house."
+
+"A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!" shuddered
+Pollyanna. "But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--"
+
+"Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I ask
+and stop talking," moaned the man, faintly. And, with a little sobbing
+cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue between the
+sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the ground to make sure
+that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had seen it
+before, though never so near as this. She was almost frightened now
+at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone with its pillared
+verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing only a moment, however, she
+sped across the big neglected lawn and around the house to the side door
+under the porte-cochere. Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon
+the keys, were anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt
+in the lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste, she
+paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to the wide,
+sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was John Pendleton's
+house; the house of mystery; the house into which no one but its master
+entered; the house which sheltered, somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she,
+Pollyanna, was expected to enter alone these fearsome rooms, and
+telephone the doctor that the master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the left,
+fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like the
+hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft of gold
+across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass andirons in the
+fireplace, and touched the nickel of the telephone on the great desk in
+the middle of the room. It was toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly
+tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through the C's
+to "Chilton." In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at the other end
+of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her message and answering
+the doctor's terse, pertinent questions. This done, she hung up the
+receiver and drew a long breath of relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a confused
+vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined walls, a littered
+floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors (any one of which might
+conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust, dust, dust, she fled back
+through the hall to the great carved door, still half open as she had
+left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short time,
+Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+"Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?" he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+"Why, of course I could! I'm HERE," she answered. "As if I'd be here
+if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as soon as
+possible with the men and things. He said he knew just where you were,
+so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with you."
+
+"Did you?" smiled the man, grimly. "Well, I can't say I admire your
+taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions."
+
+"Do you mean--because you're so--cross?"
+
+"Thanks for your frankness. Yes."
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!"
+
+"Indeed! How do you know that?" asked the man, trying to change the
+position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+"Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the dog," she
+added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested on the dog's sleek
+head near him. "It's funny how dogs and cats know the insides of folks
+better than other folks do, isn't it? Say, I'm going to hold your head,"
+she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the change
+was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome
+substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head had lain before.
+
+"Well, that is--better," he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his face,
+wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He looked as if
+his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain. Pollyanna herself
+almost cried aloud as she looked at his great, strong body lying there
+so helpless. One hand, with fingers tightly clenched, lay outflung,
+motionless. The other, limply open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his
+wistful, eager eyes on his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west
+and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she
+hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of
+her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost
+under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the
+motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he gave a
+short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon
+their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other
+articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna
+knew by sight as "Dr. Chilton"--advanced cheerily.
+
+"Well, my little lady, playing nurse?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "I've only held his head--I haven't
+given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here."
+
+"So am I," nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the
+injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to
+John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+"Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you," she sighed in
+obvious relief. "It's half-past six!"
+
+"I know it," admitted Pollyanna anxiously; "but I'm not to blame--truly
+I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either."
+
+"She won't have the chance," retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction.
+"She's gone."
+
+"Gone!" gasped Pollyanna. "You don't mean that I've driven her away?"
+Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories
+of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome
+"glad" and forbidden "father" that would spring to her forgetful little
+tongue. "Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?"
+
+"Not much you did," scoffed Nancy. "Her cousin died suddenly down to
+Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters
+after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three
+days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house
+tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!"
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?"
+
+"Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--"
+Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. "Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the
+game," she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+"I can't help it, Nancy," she argued with a shake of her head. "It
+must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game
+on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral
+to be glad about."
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"We can be glad 'tain't our'n," she observed demurely. But Pollyanna did
+not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy,
+open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean
+according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed
+keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to
+himself.
+
+"Well, maybe 'tis natural," he sighed. "Of course things you don't know
+about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother
+side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way
+ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody
+over in India wanted ME?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies'
+Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West--but
+that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd
+come all the way here as I did!"
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+"Do you think they would--truly--take me?" he asked.
+
+"Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring
+up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time.
+I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait.
+I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs.
+White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most--which is
+kind of funny, isn't it?--when you think of it. But I reckon some of the
+Aiders will take you."
+
+"All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,"
+put in Jimmy. "I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with
+Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'." He hesitated, then added: "An' I s'pose I
+better stay where I be fur a spell yet--till you hear."
+
+"Of course," nodded Pollyanna emphatically. "Then I'll know just where
+to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far enough away for
+that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!" she broke off, suddenly, "DO you
+suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?"
+
+"Well, if you ain't the queerest kid," grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna
+said to her aunt one morning:
+
+"Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's
+calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow
+wouldn't--this once."
+
+"Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?" sighed her aunt. "You ARE
+the most extraordinary child!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraordinary you
+can't be ORdinary, can you?"
+
+"You certainly can not."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary," sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. "You see, Mrs. White used to say Mrs.
+Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs. Rawson something
+awful. They were always fight--I mean, father had--that is, I mean, WE
+had more trouble keeping peace between them than we did between any of
+the rest of the Aiders," corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from
+her efforts to steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in
+regard to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+"Yes, yes; well, never mind," interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. "You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what we're
+talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!"
+
+"Yes'm," smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, "I reckon I do, maybe. But you
+see they used to bring me up, and--"
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," interrupted a cold voice. "Now what is it
+about this jelly?"
+
+"Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You let me
+take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this once. You see,
+broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids, so his won't last
+forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have all the rest of the things
+after just once or twice."
+
+"'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about, Pollyanna?"
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened while you
+were gone. It was the very day you went that I found him in the woods,
+you know; and I had to unlock his house and telephone for the men and
+the doctor, and hold his head, and everything. And of course then I came
+away and haven't seen him since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs.
+Snow this week I thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him
+instead of her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I suppose so," acquiesced Miss Polly, a little wearily. "Who
+did you say he was?"
+
+"The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton."
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+"JOHN PENDLETON!"
+
+"Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+"Do YOU know him?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross OUTSIDE, you
+know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most fixed when I came
+in," finished Pollyanna, already halfway across the room.
+
+"Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've
+changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as
+usual. That is all. You may go now."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have
+things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I
+mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now."
+
+"Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident,"
+said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; "but--I do not care to be sending
+jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna."
+
+"I know, he is cross--outside," admitted Pollyanna, sadly, "so I suppose
+you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas
+me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly."
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped,
+and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+"Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?"
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+"I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never."
+
+"Does he know where you--live?"
+
+"Oh, no. I never told him that."
+
+"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna
+with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting
+impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss
+Polly roused herself with a start.
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna," she said at last, still in that queer voice, so
+unlike her own; "you may you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your
+own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be very sure that he does
+not think I do!"
+
+"Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly," exulted Pollyanna, as she flew
+through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when
+she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John Pendleton. Windows
+were open, an elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the back yard,
+and the doctor's gig stood under the porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a bunch
+of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her, but
+there was a slight delay before the woman who had been hanging out the
+clothes opened the door.
+
+"If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr. Pendleton,"
+smiled Pollyanna.
+
+"Thank you," said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little girl's
+hand. "Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot jelly?"
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the woman's words
+and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly
+forward.
+
+"Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?" he asked genially. "That will be fine!
+Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to a nod
+from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though plainly with
+vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest city)
+gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+"But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any one?"
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded the doctor, imperturbably. "But I'm giving orders
+now. I'll take the risk." Then he added whimsically: "You don't know, of
+course; but that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic
+any day. If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton
+this afternoon, she can. That's why I sent her in."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+"She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal
+acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my patients
+do--I'm thankful to say!"
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+"Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?"
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to
+happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated
+to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being glad' is the tenor
+of most of them. All is," he added, with another whimsical smile, as
+he stepped out on to the porch, "I wish I could prescribe her--and buy
+her--as I would a box of pills;--though if there gets to be many of
+her in the world, you and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and
+ditch-digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring,"
+he laughed, picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was being
+escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall, and, rapid
+as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once that great changes
+had taken place. The book-lined walls and the crimson curtains were the
+same; but there was no litter on the floor, no untidiness on the desk,
+and not so much as a grain of dust in sight. The telephone card hung in
+its proper place, and the brass andirons had been polished. One of the
+mysterious doors was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the
+way. A moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+"If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly. The
+doctor said I was to--to bring her in."
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking
+man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+"See here, didn't I say--" began an angry voice. "Oh, it's you!" it
+broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.
+
+"Yes, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "Oh, I'm so glad they let me in! You see,
+at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so afraid I wasn't
+going to see you at all. Then the doctor came, and he said I might.
+Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?"
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all he
+said was "Humph!"
+
+"And I've brought you some jelly," resumed Pollyanna; "--calf's-foot. I
+hope you like it?" There was a rising inflection in her voice.
+
+"Never ate it." The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had come back
+to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment; but
+it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+"Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T like it,
+anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after all. Now, if
+you knew--"
+
+"Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is that
+I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm liable to stay
+here--till doomsday, I guess."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel Gabriel
+blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we think it
+will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come quicker than
+we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of course I believe the
+Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come as much quicker as it would
+if it should come now, and--"
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in at that
+moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very silent--retreat.
+He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing the danger of a breath
+of cold air striking a half-done cake, hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+"Aren't you getting a little mixed?" asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+"Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones, you
+know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So yours won't
+last till doomsday at all. I should think you could be glad of that."
+
+"Oh, I am," retorted the man grimly.
+
+"And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two." Pollyanna
+was warming to her task.
+
+"Of course! So fortunate," sniffed the man, with uplifted eyebrows;
+"looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might be glad I wasn't
+a centipede and didn't break fifty!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"Oh, that's the best yet," she crowed. "I know what a centipede is;
+they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--"
+
+"Oh, of course," interrupted the man, sharply, all the old bitterness
+coming back to his voice; "I can be glad, too, for all the rest, I
+suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that confounded woman in the
+kitchen!"
+
+"Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have them!"
+
+"Well, I--eh?" he demanded sharply.
+
+"Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have 'em--and
+you lying here like this!"
+
+"As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole
+matter," retorted the man, testily, "because I am lying here like
+this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a fool woman who
+disarranges the whole house and calls it 'regulating,' and a man who
+aids and abets her in it, and calls it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the
+doctor who eggs 'em both on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile,
+expecting me to pay them for it, and pay them well, too!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+"Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've been
+saving it, too, all this time."
+
+"When--eh?"
+
+"Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you like
+beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the sixty
+cents?"
+
+"Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?"
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+"About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for the
+heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton, that's one
+of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy told me."
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+"Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire who
+Nancy is?"
+
+"Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly."
+
+"Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?"
+
+"She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her."
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+"Miss--Polly--Harrington!" he breathed. "You live with--HER!"
+
+"Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know," faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. "She was her
+sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of us in
+Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the Ladies' Aid;
+so she took me."
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow now, was
+very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She rose uncertainly
+to her feet.
+
+"I reckon maybe I'd better go now," she proposed. "I--I hope you'll
+like--the jelly."
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was a
+curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw, and at
+which she marvelled.
+
+"And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece," he said gently.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna, feeling
+vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+"I--I suppose you know--her."
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+"Oh, yes; I know her." He hesitated, then went on, still with that
+curious smile. "But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it was Miss
+Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?" he said slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir: she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let you
+think she did send it. But I--"
+
+"I thought as much," vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away his head.
+And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig. The
+nurse stood on the steps.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you home?"
+asked the doctor smilingly. "I started to drive on a few minutes ago;
+then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride," beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+"Do you?" smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the young
+man on the steps. "Well, as near as I can judge, there are a good many
+things you 'love' to do--eh?" he added, as they drove briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are," she admitted. "I like
+to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like the other
+things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all that. But THEY
+aren't LIVING."
+
+"No? What are they, then?"
+
+"Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,'" sighed Pollyanna, with a
+rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+"Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that."
+
+"Yes," responded Pollyanna. "But I don't see it that way at all. I don't
+think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow."
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+"After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl," he said.
+Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a glance at
+his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad. She wished,
+uneasily, that she could "do something." It was this, perhaps, that
+caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+"Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very gladdest
+kind of a business there was."
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+"'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I go?" he
+cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course you're
+glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us, all
+the time."
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life was
+a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his two-room
+office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear to him. Looking
+now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if a loving hand had been
+suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He knew, too, that never again
+would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without
+that new-found exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"God bless you, little girl," he said unsteadily. Then, with the bright
+smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: "And I'm thinking,
+after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as his patients, that
+needed a draft of that tonic!" All of which puzzled Pollyanna very
+much--until a chipmunk, running across the road, drove the whole matter
+from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who was
+sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+"I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor," announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. "He's lovely, Nancy!"
+
+"Is he?"
+
+"Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the very
+gladdest one there was."
+
+"What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but thinks
+they is, which is worse?" Nancy's face showed open skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be glad,
+even then. Guess!"
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play this
+game of "being glad" quite successfully, she thought. She rather enjoyed
+studying out Pollyanna's "posers," too, as she called some of the little
+girl's questions.
+
+"Oh, I know," she chuckled. "It's just the opposite from what you told
+Mis' Snow."
+
+"Opposite?" repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+"Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like
+her--all sick, you know."
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks--the
+sick ones, I mean, what he doctors," finished Nancy in triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+"Why, y-yes," she admitted. "Of course that IS one way, but it isn't the
+way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like the sound of it. It
+isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they WERE sick, but--You do play
+the game so funny, sometimes Nancy," she sighed, as she went into the
+house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+"Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?"
+questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?"
+
+"Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?"
+
+"He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton, and--"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+"Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?"
+
+"Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't."
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+"You TOLD him I didn't!"
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her aunt's
+voice.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!"
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+"I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be very sure
+that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different matter from
+TELLING him outright that I did not send it." And she turned vexedly
+away.
+
+"Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is," sighed Pollyanna,
+as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon
+which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon
+committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she returned at three
+o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink, and her hair, blown by
+the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and curls wherever the loosened
+pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+"Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too," she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the
+sitting room.
+
+"Got what, you impossible child?"
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+"And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't know
+they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
+mean," she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
+above her ears. "But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
+can't hide the black part."
+
+"Pollyanna, what does all this mean?" demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
+removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.
+
+"No, no--please, Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
+of distressed appeal. "Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
+about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
+pretty!"
+
+"Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
+other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?"
+
+"But it isn't nonsense," urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
+her aunt's remarks. "You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
+like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
+Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
+be ever so much prettier than she was!"
+
+"Pollyanna!" (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
+because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
+had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
+"loved" to see her "pretty"?) "Pollyanna, you did not answer my
+question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?"
+
+"Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
+and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
+I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
+you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
+as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
+let me do your hair, won't you?"
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
+upon her, she knew.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
+them, I was so ashamed! I--"
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+"You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair," she crowed
+triumphantly; "and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
+sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
+didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
+wait just where you are. I'll get a comb."
+
+"But Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the
+little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+"Oh, did you come up here?" Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss
+Polly's own room. "That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb. Now sit
+down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do it!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, I--I--"
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement she
+found herself in the low chair before the dressing table, with her
+hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager, but very gentle
+fingers.
+
+"Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got," prattled Pollyanna; "and there's
+so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of course, you need
+more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to places where folks
+can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when they do see it--and
+surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make
+you so pretty everybody'll just love to look at you!"
+
+"Pollyanna!" gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of hair.
+"I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly thing."
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like to
+look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever so much
+happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look at the other
+kind I'm so sorry for them."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+"And I just love to do folks' hair," purred Pollyanna, contentedly. "I
+did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there wasn't any of them so
+nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty nice, though, and she looked
+just lovely one day when I dressed her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just
+happened to think of something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell.
+Now your hair is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you
+just a minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!" she finished, as she ran
+from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course she
+should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers, and put her
+hair up properly again. As for "peeking" just as if she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in
+the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw sent such a flush of
+rosy color to her cheeks that--she only flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay
+in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the ears in
+wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the glass
+that she quite forgot her determination to do over her hair, until she
+heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she could move, then, she
+felt a folded something slipped across her eyes and tied in the back.
+
+"Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?" she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was afraid
+you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit still. It won't
+take but just a minute, then I'll let you see."
+
+"But, Pollyanna," began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her feet, "you
+must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you doing?" she gasped,
+as she felt a soft something slipped about her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling fingers she
+was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy folds of a beautiful
+lace shawl, yellowed from long years of packing away, and fragrant with
+lavender. Pollyanna had found the shawl the week before when Nancy had
+been regulating the attic; and it had occurred to her to-day that there
+was no reason why her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home,
+should not be "dressed up."
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that approved,
+but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly, therefore, she pulled
+her aunt toward the sun parlor where she could see a belated red rose
+blooming on the trellis within reach of her hand.
+
+"Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?" recoiled
+Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. "Pollyanna, I shall
+not--"
+
+"It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time," panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and
+thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear. "There!"
+she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and flinging the bit
+of linen far from her. "Oh, Aunt Polly, now I reckon you'll be glad I
+dressed you up!"
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and at her
+surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna,
+following the direction of her aunt's last dismayed gaze, saw, through
+the open windows of the sun parlor, the horse and gig turning into the
+driveway. She recognized at once the man who held the reins. Delightedly
+she leaned forward.
+
+"Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here."
+
+"Yes," smiled the doctor, a little gravely. "Will you come down,
+please?"
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+"Pollyanna, how could you?" moaned the woman. "To think of your rigging
+me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!"
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+"But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--"
+
+"'Lovely'!" scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and
+attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!"
+
+"Stay? Like this? As if I would!" And Miss Polly pulled the locks so
+tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her
+fingers.
+
+"O dear! And you did look so pretty," almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she
+stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+"I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled," announced the doctor. "Will you go?"
+
+"You mean--an errand--to the drug store?" asked Pollyanna, a little
+uncertainly. "I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders."
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+"Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day,
+if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down
+after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before
+six o'clock."
+
+"I'd love to!" exclaimed Pollyanna. "Let me ask Aunt Polly."
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober
+face.
+
+"Didn't--your aunt want you to go?" asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+"Y-yes," sighed Pollyanna. "She--she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm
+afraid."
+
+"Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!"
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+"Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said:
+'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone before.'"
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For
+some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+"Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the window of
+the sun parlor?"
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd dressed
+her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found up-stairs, and I'd fixed
+her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think
+she looked just lovely?"
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was
+so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+"Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely."
+
+"Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her," nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+"Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell
+her--that."
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+"But she might not be," cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+"That's so--maybe she wouldn't," she sighed. "I remember now; 'twas
+'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke afterwards about her
+being seen in that rig."
+
+"I thought as much," declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+"Still, I don't see why," maintained Pollyanna, "--when she looked so
+pretty!"
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until they
+were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a
+broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving little
+person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again to-day."
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I don't see
+why I shouldn't be, either."
+
+"Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid, both the
+other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when
+you found me with the broken leg at first. By the way, too, I don't
+think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm sure that even you would
+admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such
+ungrateful treatment as that!"
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+"But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad your leg
+was broken, of course," she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+"I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a while,
+doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I consider you
+a very brave little girl to do what you did that day. I thank you for
+the jelly, too," he added in a lighter voice.
+
+"Did you like it?" asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+"Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that Aunt Polly
+DIDN'T send, is there?" he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir." She hesitated, then went on with heightened color. "Please,
+Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt
+Polly did NOT send the jelly."
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was looking
+straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and
+beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a long sigh and
+turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous
+fretfulness.
+
+"Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to see
+me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room where the
+telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of
+the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.
+That is, it'll be there if that confounded woman hasn't 'regulated'
+it to somewhere else! You may bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too
+heavy for you to carry, I think."
+
+"Oh, I'm awfully strong," declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang
+to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box was
+full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of
+travel--and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether
+it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little
+jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna
+murmured wistfully:
+
+"Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India to
+bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God was in
+that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who
+knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help wishing they had wanted
+Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys."
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused himself,
+and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was over,
+Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about something besides
+the wonderful things in the beautiful carved box. They were talking
+of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and of her daily life. They were
+talking, too, even of the life and home long ago in the far Western
+town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a voice
+Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+"Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going to tell
+you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who you were,
+the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more. You reminded
+me of--of something I have tried for long years to forget. So I said
+to myself that I never wanted to see you again; and every day, when the
+doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring you to me, I said no.
+
+"But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much that--that
+the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me remember all the more
+vividly the thing I was so wanting to forget. So now I want you to come.
+Will you--little girl?"
+
+"Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton," breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous with
+sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow before her. "I'd
+love to come!"
+
+"Thank you," said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told
+Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still
+more wonderful things it contained.
+
+"And ter think," sighed Nancy, "that he SHOWED ye all them things, and
+told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he never talks ter no
+one--no one!"
+
+"Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside," demurred Pollyanna, with
+quick loyalty. "I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either.
+They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him
+very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so
+afraid he'd think she did send it!"
+
+"Probably she didn't call him no duty," shrugged Nancy. "But what beats
+me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna--meanin' no
+offence ter you, of course--but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally
+takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't."
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+"But he did, Nancy," she nodded, "only I reckon even he didn't want
+to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he
+just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded him of
+something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--"
+
+"What's that?" interrupted Nancy, excitedly. "He said you reminded him
+of something he wanted to forget?"
+
+"Yes. But afterwards--"
+
+"What was it?" Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+"He didn't tell me. He just said it was something."
+
+"THE MYSTERY!" breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. "That's why he
+took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why, that's just
+like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's Secret,' and 'The Lost
+Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em had mysteries and things just
+like this. My stars and stockings! Just think of havin' a book lived
+right under yer nose like this an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now
+tell me everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!"
+
+"But he didn't," cried Pollyanna, "not till _I_ talked to HIM, first.
+And he didn't even know who I was till I took the calf's-foot jelly, and
+had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn't send it, and--"
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!" she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side again.
+"Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true," she urged excitedly.
+"It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's niece that he said he
+didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't it?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this
+to-day."
+
+"I thought as much," triumphed Nancy. "And Miss Polly wouldn't send the
+jelly herself, would she?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And you told him she didn't send it?"
+
+"Why, yes; I--"
+
+"And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you
+was her niece. He did that, didn't he?"
+
+"Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly," admitted
+Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+"Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS POLLY
+HARRINGTON'S LOVER!" she announced impressively, but with a furtive
+glance over her shoulder.
+
+"Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him," objected Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+"Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!"
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy
+happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+"It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had
+had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a lover! But
+Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right in this town. And
+NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton. Hain't he got a mystery in
+his life? Don't he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never
+speak ter no one? Didn't he act queer when he found out you was Miss
+Polly's niece? And now hain't he owned up that you remind him of
+somethin' he wants ter forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas
+Miss Polly!--an' her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why,
+Miss Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!"
+
+"Oh-h!" breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. "But, Nancy, I
+should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time. Both
+of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd be glad to
+make up!"
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+"I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna. You
+ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks in the
+world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game' o' your'n,
+it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what they be. Ain't he
+cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't she--"
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and about
+whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+"I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a pretty
+slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin' it--so they
+WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't folks stare some--Miss
+Polly and him! I guess, though, there ain't much chance, much chance!"
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little later,
+her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to the
+great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however, that her
+visits were really a success. Not but that the man seemed to want her
+there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently; but that when she was
+there, he seemed scarcely any the happier for her presence--at least, so
+Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still fretted
+audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly under the rules
+and "regulatings" of the unwelcome members of his household. He did,
+indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk, however, and Pollyanna
+talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she was never sure that she would
+not look up and find him lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt
+look that always pained her; and she was never sure which--if any--of
+her words had brought it there. As for telling him the "glad game," and
+trying to get him to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when
+she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
+her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
+conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
+one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
+she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
+mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
+to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
+sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
+stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
+tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
+would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
+about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
+the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
+with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
+Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
+Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+"If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor," Aunt Polly
+said.
+
+"Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse," gurgled Pollyanna. "I'd love to
+have Dr. Chilton come to see me!"
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+"It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna," Miss Polly said sternly. "Dr.
+Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
+are worse."
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.
+
+"And I'm so glad, too," Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. "Of
+course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
+and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
+really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
+you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly," she finished wistfully.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings," reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
+then she sighed:
+
+"I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt Polly;
+but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt Polly!" But her aunt
+was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early morning
+call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue and gold and
+green edged with red and violet lying across his pillow. She stopped
+short in awed delight.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in to
+pay you a visit!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together softly.
+"Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?" she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly out of
+sorts with the world this morning.
+
+"Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that glass
+thermometer in the window," he said wearily. "The sun shouldn't strike
+it at all but it does in the morning."
+
+"Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do that?
+My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day long!"
+
+"Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then," laughed the man.
+"How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or how cold it was,
+if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?"
+
+"I shouldn't care," breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on the
+brilliant band of colors across the pillow. "Just as if anybody'd care
+when they were living all the time in a rainbow!"
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the bell at
+his side.
+
+"Nora," he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door, "bring
+me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in the front
+drawing-room."
+
+"Yes, sir," murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a minute
+she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with her as she
+advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the prism pendants
+encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her hand.
+
+"Thank you. You may set it here on the stand," directed the man. "Now
+get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of that window
+there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string reach straight
+across the window from side to side. That will be all. Thank you," he
+said, when she had carried out his directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+"Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna."
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping off the
+pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of them, side by
+side, on the bed.
+
+"Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little string
+Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live in a rainbow--I
+don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for you to live in!"
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit window
+before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She was so excited
+then she could scarcely control her shaking fingers enough to hang up
+the rest. But at last her task was finished, and she stepped back with a
+low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to the bed
+itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!" breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed suddenly.
+"I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the game now, don't
+you?" she cried, forgetting for the moment that Mr. Pendleton could not
+know what she was talking about. "Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those
+things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow
+and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN they'd be glad all right! Why, I think
+even Aunt Polly'd get so glad she couldn't help banging doors if she
+lived in a rainbow like that. Don't you?"
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+"Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I
+think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight
+to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come, now, really,
+what do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now."
+
+"Suppose you tell me, then."
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from
+the very first--from the crutches that should have been a doll. As she
+talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the
+dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit
+window.
+
+"And that's all," she sighed, when she had finished. "And now you know
+why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said
+unsteadily:
+
+"Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all is
+yourself, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun
+shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!"
+
+"Don't you?" smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
+wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+"No," she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: "I'm afraid,
+Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
+Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!"
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
+had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
+that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
+happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
+were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
+confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
+her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
+old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
+course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
+of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+"See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?" he
+asked, a little impatiently. "I don't see anything of you, nowadays."
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+"I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round," she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+"Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
+yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
+be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
+around," he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
+shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
+library to-day.
+
+"Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
+are," pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
+"You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
+you don't!"
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+"That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?"
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?"
+
+"But I do. I want you. Will you come?"
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!"
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite
+understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+"You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me," he
+finished more gently. "Would you come--if she did?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+"But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me," she began slowly; "and she
+took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--"
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time,
+when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+"Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring
+her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in
+our home all the long years to come."
+
+"Yes," pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+"But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't
+that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been
+a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's
+presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will
+you come, my dear?"
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right," sighed the little girl. "Now you
+can take us both, and everything will be lovely."
+
+"Take--you--both?" repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+"Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure she will
+be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then we'd both come,
+of course."
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+"Aunt Polly come--HERE!"
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+"Would you rather go THERE?" she asked. "Of course the house isn't quite
+so pretty, but it's nearer--"
+
+"Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?" asked the man, very gently now.
+
+"Why, about where we're going to live, of course," rejoined Pollyanna,
+in obvious surprise. "I THOUGHT you meant here, at first. You said it
+was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand and heart all these years
+to make a home, and--"
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his hand and
+began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at
+his side.
+
+"The doctor, sir," said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+"Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked you--yet," he
+begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.
+
+"Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!" she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+"Why, what's up?" demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on
+his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+"Overdose of your--tonic, I guess," he laughed, as he noted the doctor's
+eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.
+Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy. She had
+planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John
+Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook
+her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.
+
+"Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna," he suggested. "I want
+to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your place to
+tell you," he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.
+"Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this
+afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important."
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+"Yes, it is, I know. I'll go."
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+"I'm not sure I shall let you, after all," he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. "You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young
+lady."
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it was
+Aunt Polly."
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+"Your--aunt!" he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+"Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.
+I--I'm going to tell you," she burst out, with sudden decision. "He
+said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your knowing, of course. He
+meant not to mention it to HER."
+
+"HER?"
+
+"Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her himself
+instead of having me do it--lovers, so!"
+
+"Lovers!" As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as
+if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna, happily. "That's the story-part, you see. I
+didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had a lover years
+ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it was at first. But we've
+found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you know."
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to
+his lap.
+
+"Oh! No; I--didn't know," he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+"Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton asked
+me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't leave Aunt Polly
+like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then he told me all about
+the woman's hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he
+wanted it now; and I was so glad! For of course if he wants to make up
+the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will
+both go to live there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course
+Aunt Polly doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure."
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his lips.
+
+"Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to see you,
+Pollyanna," he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.
+
+"There's Aunt Polly now in the window," cried Pollyanna; then, a second
+later: "Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!"
+
+"No; she isn't there--now," said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost
+their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that
+afternoon.
+
+"Pollyanna," he began at once. "I've been trying all night to puzzle
+out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my wanting your Aunt
+Polly's hand and heart here all those years. What did you mean?"
+
+"Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you
+still felt that way now."
+
+"Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?"
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide her
+eyes.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!"
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+"Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't know."
+
+"Then you--weren't lovers?" Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay.
+
+"Never!"
+
+"And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?"
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the window.
+
+"O dear! And it was all going so splendidly," almost sobbed Pollyanna.
+"I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly."
+
+"And you won't--now?" The man asked the question without turning his
+head.
+
+"Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's."
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+"Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's. And--it was
+your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years ago."
+
+"My mother's!"
+
+"Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after all,
+that I do--now." John Pendleton's face had grown very white. He
+was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and
+frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. "I loved
+your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after a time she went away
+with--your father. I did not know until then how much I did--care. The
+whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, and--But,
+never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable,
+unloved old man--though I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then,
+One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you
+danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
+purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never wanted to
+see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your mother. But--you
+know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you
+always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?"
+
+"But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna's eyes were
+blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+"What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came that
+I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little
+girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make you glad, too, my
+dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last
+cent, should go to make you happy."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that money
+you've saved for the heathen!"
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna
+was still talking.
+
+"Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't need me
+to make you glad about things. You're making other folks so glad giving
+them things that you just can't help being glad yourself! Why, look
+at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
+Nancy on her birthday, and--"
+
+"Yes, yes--never mind about all that," interrupted the man. His face
+was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not for "giving
+things" that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. "That's all
+nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what there was, was because of you.
+YOU gave those things; not I! Yes, you did," he repeated, in answer to
+the shocked denial in her face. "And that only goes to prove all the
+more how I need you, little girl," he added, his voice softening into
+tender pleading once more. "If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me."
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+"Aunt Polly has been so good to me," she began; but the man interrupted
+her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience
+which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendleton's
+nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
+
+"Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do," he contested.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--"
+
+"Glad!" interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. "I'll
+wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything! Oh, she does
+her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've had experience with
+her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we haven't been the best of friends
+for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Every one knows
+her--and she isn't the 'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to
+be. As for your coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let
+you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!" he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+"All right. I'll ask her," she said wistfully. "Of course I don't mean
+that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but--" She
+did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's silence, then she
+added: "Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell her yesterday;--'cause then
+I supposed SHE was wanted, too."
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+"Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't mention
+it--yesterday."
+
+"I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count."
+
+"The doctor!" cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+"Not--Dr.--Chilton?"
+
+"Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know."
+
+"Well, of all the--" muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then
+he sat up with sudden interest. "And what did Dr. Chilton say?" he
+asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well
+imagine you did want to see me."
+
+"Oh, did he, indeed!" answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered
+why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching
+thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John
+Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that
+time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was
+not so imminent.
+
+"Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north," announced Nancy, eyeing the sky
+critically. "I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter
+come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Was she?" murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her
+turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+"You don't seem ter notice what I said," she observed aggrievedly. "I
+said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so
+soon to ask her aunt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her."
+
+"Well, I'm glad," retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. "I am, I am."
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+"GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't the
+way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!" she objected.
+
+"There wa'n't no game in it," retorted Nancy. "Never thought of it. YOU
+don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly WORRIED about ye,
+child!"
+
+"Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel," maintained
+Pollyanna. "What else can it mean?"
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+"Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin' down
+somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest doin' her
+duty by ye all the time."
+
+"Why, Nancy," demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, "Aunt Polly always
+does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!" Unconsciously Pollyanna
+repeated John Pendleton's words of half an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's somethin'
+more, now, since you came."
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+"There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy," she sighed. "Do you
+think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she mind--if if I wasn't
+here any more?"
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face. She had
+expected to be asked this question long before, and she had dreaded
+it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how she could answer it
+honestly without cruelly hurting the questioner. But now, NOW, in
+the face of the new suspicions that had become convictions by the
+afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy only welcomed the question with open
+arms. She was sure that, with a clean conscience to-day, she could set
+the love-hungry little girl's heart at rest.
+
+"Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?" cried
+Nancy, indignantly. "As if that wa'n't jest what I was tellin' of ye!
+Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella 'cause she see a little
+cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote yer things all down-stairs, so
+you could have the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye
+remember how at first she hated ter have--"
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+"And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither," rushed on
+Nancy, breathlessly. "It's little ways she has, that shows how you've
+been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her down--the cat, and the dog, and
+the way she speaks ter me, and oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna,
+there ain't no tellin' how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here," finished
+Nancy, speaking with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide
+the perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was not
+quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's face.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am that
+Aunt Polly--wants me!"
+
+"As if I'd leave her now!" thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the stairs
+to her room a little later. "I always knew I wanted to live with Aunt
+Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how much I wanted Aunt
+Polly--to want to live with ME!"
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be an
+easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very fond of John
+Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because he seemed to be so
+sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that
+had made him so unhappy; and she was grieved that it had been because of
+her mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured the great
+gray house as it would be after its master was well again, with its
+silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart
+ached for his loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be
+found who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great dim
+library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his long, thin
+hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his faithful little dog
+at his feet.
+
+"Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the rest of
+my life?" asked the man, gently.
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "I've thought of the very gladdest kind of a
+thing for you to do, and--"
+
+"With--YOU?" asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little stern at
+the corners.
+
+"N-no; but--"
+
+"Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!" interrupted a voice deep with
+emotion.
+
+"I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?"
+
+"I--I didn't ask her," stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt, grieved
+gaze of her friend.
+
+"So you didn't even ask her!"
+
+"I couldn't, sir--truly," faltered Pollyanna. "You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I want to
+stay, too," she confessed bravely. "You don't know how good she's been
+to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's beginning to be glad
+about things--lots of things. And you know she never used to be. You
+said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the grate
+broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+"No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now," he said. "I won't
+ask you--again." The last word was so low it was almost inaudible; but
+Pollyanna heard.
+
+"Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it," she reminded him eagerly.
+"There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there is!"
+
+"Not for me, Pollyanna."
+
+"Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get it for
+you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another one."
+
+"As if I would have any but you!" resented an indignant voice.
+
+"But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think of the
+prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save for the heathen,
+and--"
+
+"Pollyanna!" interrupted the man, savagely. "Once for all let us end
+that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times before. There
+is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to them in my life.
+There!"
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he expected--the
+grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his amazement, however,
+there was neither grief nor disappointment in Pollyanna's eyes. There
+was only surprised joy.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad! That is," she
+corrected, coloring distressfully, "I don't mean that I'm not sorry for
+the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that you don't want
+the little India boys, because all the rest have wanted them. And so I'm
+glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I know you'll take him!"
+
+"Take--WHO?"
+
+"Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be so glad
+to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my Ladies' Aid out West
+wouldn't take him, and he was so disappointed. But now--when he hears of
+this--he'll be so glad!"
+
+"Will he? Well, I won't," ejaculated the man, decisively. "Pollyanna,
+this is sheer nonsense!"
+
+"You don't mean--you won't take him?"
+
+"I certainly do mean just that."
+
+"But he'd be a lovely child's presence," faltered Pollyanna. She was
+almost crying now. "And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy 'round."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined the man; "but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness."
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+"Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than that old
+dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!"
+
+"SKELETON?"
+
+"Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere."
+
+"Why, what--" Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed. He
+laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began to cry
+from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton sat erect very
+promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+"Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know," he said
+gently. "In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy' would be far
+better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we aren't always willing
+to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to--our skeletons,
+Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me a little more about this nice
+little boy." And Pollyanna told him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy Bean's
+story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a heart already
+strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna went home that night
+she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the
+great house with Pollyanna the next Saturday afternoon.
+
+"And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him," sighed Pollyanna, as
+she said good-by. "I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home--and folks
+that care, you know."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy Bean, the
+Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the Pendleton Woods, hoping
+that the hushed beauty of God's out-of-doors would still the tumult that
+His children of men had wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year past,
+conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse and worse;
+until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he encountered only
+wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He had argued, pleaded,
+rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always and through all he had
+prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day miserably he was forced to own
+that matters were no better, but rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his most
+energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid Society
+because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging tongues into a
+devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split over the amount of solo
+work given to a fanciedly preferred singer. Even the Christian Endeavor
+Society was in a ferment of unrest owing to open criticism of two of its
+officers. As to the Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its
+superintendent and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and
+that had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the thing
+squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must be done--and
+done at once. The entire work of the church was at a standstill. The
+Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the missionary teas, even
+the suppers and socials were becoming less and less well attended. True,
+a few conscientious workers were still left. But they pulled at cross
+purposes, usually; and always they showed themselves to be acutely aware
+of the critical eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing
+to do but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well that he
+(God's minister), the church, the town, and even Christianity itself was
+suffering; and must suffer still more unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made for his
+next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His mouth settled
+into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he read the verses on
+which he had determined to speak:
+
+"'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut
+up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves,
+neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+"'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall
+receive the greater damnation.'
+
+"'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
+mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
+law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to
+leave the other undone.'"
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods, the
+minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the birds and
+squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought to the minister a
+vivid realization of how those words would sound the next Sunday when he
+should utter them before his people in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it? Dare
+he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without the words that
+would follow--his own words. He had prayed and prayed. He had pleaded
+earnestly for help, for guidance. He longed--oh, how earnestly he
+longed!--to take now, in this crisis, the right step. But was this--the
+right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into his
+pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung himself down
+at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton house,
+found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+"Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or anything,
+have you?" she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried to
+smile.
+
+"No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting."
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. "That's all right, then.
+You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found him--but he was
+lying down, though. And you are sitting up."
+
+"Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that doctors can
+mend."
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift change
+crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+"I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel like
+that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally. You see
+there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow."
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+"Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He married
+Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother."
+
+"Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years, so I
+don't know all the family histories."
+
+"Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot of the
+tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He had pulled
+some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at
+them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance
+away--and it was not even a pretty leaf. It was brown and dead.
+Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
+
+"It--it's a nice day," she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a
+start.
+
+"What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day."
+
+"And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October," observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. "Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but he said
+he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look at fires,
+don't you?"
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently, before
+she tried again--by a new route.
+
+"Do You like being a minister?"
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+"Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my dear?"
+
+"Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father. He
+used to look like that--sometimes."
+
+"Did he?" The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone back to
+the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+"Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he was a
+minister."
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Well--what did he say?"
+
+"Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said, too,
+that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for the rejoicing
+texts."
+
+"The--WHAT?" The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+"Well, that's what father used to call 'em," she laughed. "Of course the
+Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that begin 'Be glad in
+the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for joy,' and all that,
+you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when father felt specially bad, he
+counted 'em. There were eight hundred of 'em."
+
+"Eight hundred!"
+
+"Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why father
+named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'"
+
+"Oh!" There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had fallen
+to the words on the top paper in his hands--"But woe unto you, scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!" "And so your father--liked those 'rejoicing
+texts,'" he murmured.
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. "He said he felt better right
+away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He said if God took the
+trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must
+want us to do it--SOME. And father felt ashamed that he hadn't done it
+more. After that, they got to be such a comfort to him, you know, when
+things went wrong; when the Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when
+they DIDN'T AGREE about something," corrected Pollyanna, hastily.
+"Why, it was those texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the
+game--he began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it."
+
+"And what game might that be?" asked the minister.
+
+"About finding something in everything to be glad about, you know. As
+I said, he began with me on the crutches." And once more Pollyanna
+told her story--this time to a man who listened with tender eyes and
+understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill, hand in
+hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to talk, and she had
+been talking now for some time: there seemed to be so many, many things
+about the game, her father, and the old home life that the minister
+wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one road,
+and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat thinking.
+Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of paper--his sermon notes.
+Under the suspended pencil in his fingers lay other sheets of paper,
+blank--his sermon to be. But the minister was not thinking either of
+what he had written, or of what he intended to write. In his imagination
+he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister
+who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was
+poring over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to "rejoice and be glad."
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused himself, came
+back from the far Western town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under
+his hand.
+
+"Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23," he wrote; then, with a gesture of
+impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a magazine left
+on the desk by his wife a few minutes before. Listlessly his tired eyes
+turned from paragraph to paragraph until these words arrested them:
+
+"A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused to
+fill his mother's woodbox that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to
+go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And without a word Tom went.
+Why? Just because his father showed so plainly that he expected him to
+do the right thing. Suppose he had said: 'Tom, I overheard what you said
+to your mother this morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill
+that woodbox!' I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far as
+Tom was concerned!"
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a paragraph
+somewhere else:
+
+"What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural resisting
+powers should be strengthened, not weakened.... Instead of always
+harping on a man's faults, tell him of his virtues. Try to pull him out
+of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to him his better self, his REAL
+self that can dare and do and win out!... The influence of a beautiful,
+helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole
+town.... People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If
+a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too,
+before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his neighbors
+will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!... When you look for
+the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When you know you will find the
+good--you will get that.... Tell your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to
+fill that woodbox--then watch him start, alert and interested!"
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment he was
+on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back and forth.
+Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and dropped himself in
+the chair at his desk.
+
+"God helping me, I'll do it!" he cried softly. "I'll tell all my Toms
+I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do,
+and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't
+have TIME to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!" And he picked up his
+sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him,
+so that on one side of his chair lay "But woe unto you," and on the
+other, "scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" while across the smooth
+white paper before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one
+black line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23.
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was
+a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and
+child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight
+hundred:
+
+"Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye
+that are upright in heart."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's office
+to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had forgotten. As it
+chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the inside of Dr. Chilton's
+office.
+
+"I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?" she
+said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Yes--such as 'tis," he answered, as he wrote something on the pad
+of paper in his hand; "but it's a pretty poor apology for a home,
+Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home."
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic
+understanding.
+
+"I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to
+make a home," she said.
+
+"Eh?" The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton told me," nodded Pollyanna, again; "about the woman's
+hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a
+woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean--if
+Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him."
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+"So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home,
+does he?" he asked evasively.
+
+"Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?"
+
+"Why don't I--what?" The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+"Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot." Pollyanna's face
+showed suddenly a painful color. "I suppose I ought to tell you. It
+wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we--we
+aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was--but I made a
+mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one," she finished anxiously.
+
+"No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna," replied the doctor, a little
+queerly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then," sighed Pollyanna in relief. "You see
+you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of
+funny when I said I'd told YOU."
+
+"Did he?" The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+"Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr.
+Chilton?"
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+"They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl."
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"But I should think you could get 'em," she argued. The flattering
+emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+"Thank you," laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely
+again: "I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite
+so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown themselves to be
+so--obliging," he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get somebody's hand
+and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and couldn't, did you?"
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+"There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other
+people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now
+to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the
+directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"No, Sir; thank you, Sir," she murmured soberly, as she turned toward
+the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly
+alight: "Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you
+wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!"
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna,
+hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe
+distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was
+there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame
+that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp
+and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by
+a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly
+and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone,
+Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+"And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face," Nancy was
+sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was
+closeted in the hushed room; "ye didn't need ter more'n look at her
+aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands
+don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back
+the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom
+they don't, they don't!"
+
+"Is she hurt--bad?" The old man's voice shook.
+
+"There ain't no tellin'," sobbed Nancy. "She lay back that white an'
+still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead--an'
+Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept up such a
+listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!"
+
+"Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--" Old Tom's
+face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+"I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an'
+strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I
+always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I did, I did!"
+
+"But where is she hurt?"
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy. "There's a little cut on
+her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly says. She says
+she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt."
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+"I guess you mean internally, Nancy," he said dryly. "She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't guess
+Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same."
+
+"Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy, with a shake of
+her head as she turned away. "Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it
+till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do--the
+biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!" she wailed, wringing her hands
+helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that
+Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the
+cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had
+shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After
+he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn
+looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness,
+but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be
+expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night.
+That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious
+eyes and realized where she was.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get
+up?" she cried. "Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up," she moaned, falling
+back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
+
+"No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet," soothed her aunt quickly, but very
+quietly.
+
+"But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?"
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young
+woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+"Tell her," the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would
+scarcely let her speak.
+
+"You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that
+now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again."
+
+"Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran." Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her
+hand to her forehead. "Why, it's--done up, and it--hurts!"
+
+"Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest."
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so--so
+queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!"
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to
+her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
+
+"Suppose you let me talk to you now," she began cheerily. "I'm sure
+I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to
+introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take
+care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to
+swallow these little white pills for me."
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+"But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I want to
+get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?"
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled
+cry.
+
+"To-morrow?" smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+"Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna.
+But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what
+THEY'LL do."
+
+"All right," agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; "but I MUST go to
+school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then, you know."
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed
+into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she
+had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school "to-morrow," nor the "day after
+to-morrow." Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily
+when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to
+her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly
+until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened
+somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be
+told all over again what had occurred.
+
+"And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick," she sighed at last. "Well,
+I'm glad of that."
+
+"G-glad, Pollyanna?" asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+"Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's than
+life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and
+lifelong-invalids don't."
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the
+room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each
+down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her
+face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the
+ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+"I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too," she murmured
+contentedly. "That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad 'tisn't
+whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm glad 'tisn't
+appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're catching--measles are, I
+mean--and they wouldn't let you stay here."
+
+"You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear," faltered Aunt
+Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've been
+looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr. Pendleton
+gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't said yet. I
+don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt."
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt.
+"Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me 'dear' lots of
+times--and you didn't before. I love to be called 'dear'--by folks that
+belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies' Aiders did call me that; and
+of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged
+to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!"
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes
+were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room
+through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was cleaning
+harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened," she panted. "You couldn't
+guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!"
+
+"Then I cal'late I won't try," retorted the man, grimly, "specially as
+I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably. You'd better tell me
+first off, Nancy."
+
+"Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with the
+mistress? Who, I say?"
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"There's no tellin'," he declared.
+
+"Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!"
+
+"Sho, now! You're jokin', girl."
+
+"Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all! An'
+the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for him, jest as
+if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what never talks ter no
+one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on HER!"
+
+"Well, why not?" demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+"As if you didn't know better'n me!" she derided.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Oh, you needn't be so innercent," she retorted with mock indignation;
+"--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first place!"
+
+"What do ye mean?"
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and came a
+step nearer to the old man.
+
+"Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in the
+first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two and two, and
+I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns out ter be five--an'
+no four at all, at all!"
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+"If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense," he declared testily. "I never was no hand for figgers."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, it's this," she explained. "I heard somethin' that made me think
+him an' Miss Polly was lovers."
+
+"MR. PENDLETON!" Old Tom straightened up.
+
+"Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's mother he
+was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never mind that part,"
+she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna
+not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him.
+"Well, I've been askin' folks about him some, since, and I've found out
+that him an' Miss Polly hain't been friends for years, an' that she's
+been hatin' him like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their
+names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty."
+
+"Yes, I remember," nodded Old Tom. "It was three or four years after
+Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss
+Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter
+be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a little--she hated that minister
+chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter
+make trouble. They said she was runnin' after him."
+
+"Runnin' after any man--her!" interjected Nancy.
+
+"I know it; but they did," declared Old Tom, "and of course no gal of
+any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover an'
+the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an oyster an' wouldn't
+have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to
+turn bitter at the core."
+
+"Yes, I know. I've heard about that now," rejoined Nancy; "an' that's
+why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I see HIM at the
+door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But I let him in an' went
+an' told her."
+
+"What did she say?" Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+"Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard; and I
+was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: 'Tell Mr.
+Pendleton I will be down at once.' An' I come an' told him. Then I come
+out here an' told you," finished Nancy, casting another backward glance
+toward the house.
+
+"Humph!" grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious "parlor" of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of
+Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of
+remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was
+coldly reserved.
+
+"I called to ask for--Pollyanna," he began at once, a little brusquely.
+
+"Thank you. She is about the same," said Miss Polly.
+
+"And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?" His voice was not quite
+steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+"I can't, I wish I could!"
+
+"You mean--you don't know?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But--the doctor?"
+
+"Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now with a
+New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once."
+
+"But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?"
+
+"A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury to the
+spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips down."
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily,
+he asked:
+
+"And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?"
+
+"She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I CAN'T tell
+her."
+
+"But she must know--something!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture
+that had become so common to her of late.
+
+"Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours rather than
+'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken legs get well, and
+the other--doesn't. She talks like that all the time, until it--it seems
+as if I should--die!"
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face
+opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back
+to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her
+presence: "Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could
+control his voice:
+
+"I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me."
+
+"With YOU!--Pollyanna!"
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was
+still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+"Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her my
+heir, of course."
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to
+her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough
+and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money and position.
+
+"I am very fond of Pollyanna," the man was continuing. "I am fond of
+her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood ready to give
+Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage."
+
+"LOVE." Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this child
+in the first place--and with the recollection came the remembrance of
+Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning: "I love to be called
+'dear' by folks that belong to you!" And it was this love-hungry little
+girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five
+years:--and she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking
+heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized
+something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+"Well?" she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+"She would not come," he answered.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She
+wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted her to
+stay," he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely toward
+the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side, and found a
+shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+"When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me," said a trembling voice.
+"Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
+Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
+the specialist.
+
+"Pollyanna, my dear," she began gently, "we have decided that we want
+another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
+something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know."
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+"Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
+wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
+seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
+anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!"
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
+But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
+speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+"Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
+doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
+about--about hurts like yours."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton."
+
+"Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear."
+
+"But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
+Chilton--truly I would!"
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
+speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
+stern decisiveness:
+
+"But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
+anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
+speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
+believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
+great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow."
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--"
+
+"WHAT, Pollyanna?" Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
+were very red, too.
+
+"I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one," sighed
+Pollyanna, "seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
+would do; and I love Dr. Chilton."
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
+feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+"I am very sorry, Pollyanna," she said, a little stiffly; "but I'm
+afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
+already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow."
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come "to-morrow."
+At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
+the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
+renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--"which would be so
+easy now, you know."
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said "no, dear," very
+decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
+anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
+Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
+niece.
+
+"I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it," Nancy
+said to Old Tom one morning. "There don't seem ter be a minute in the
+day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
+for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
+what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
+ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
+Miss Pollyanna!
+
+"An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
+danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
+the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
+down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
+besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
+didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
+hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
+all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
+wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
+child!"
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+"Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead," he observed
+dryly.
+
+"'Course she ain't," retorted Nancy, indignantly. "She looks like
+FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--"
+
+"Keerful, now, Nancy!" interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. "You
+know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once."
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
+like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
+Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck."
+
+"I told ye so," nodded the man. "I told ye she wa'n't--old."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
+she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
+lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!"
+
+"Hain't ye?" asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. "Well, I
+guess ye won't then from me."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now," wheedled the girl. "Ye see, there ain't
+many folks here that I CAN ask."
+
+"Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin'," grinned
+Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. "How is she,
+ter-day--the little gal?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+"Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
+see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
+an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
+or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
+achin'."
+
+"I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!" nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+"She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?"
+
+"Oh, yes. She told me long ago." The old man hesitated, then went on,
+his lips twitching a little. "I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
+bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?"
+
+"I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
+ter be glad about!"
+
+"She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
+SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over."
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+"Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
+'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
+speak of--her aunt."
+
+"MISS POLLY!"
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
+than I have," she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+"I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her," he
+explained with dignity.
+
+"Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN," retorted Nancy. "I ain't sayin'
+what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
+she'd take ter playin' it herself!"
+
+"But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
+I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted," said
+Tom.
+
+"Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly," rejoined Nancy. "Miss Pollyanna told
+me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
+have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
+have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her."
+
+"Oh, I see, I see." The old man nodded his head slowly. "They was always
+bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
+away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
+him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
+a bad mess," he sighed, as he turned away.
+
+"Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round," sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
+went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
+cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
+impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
+about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
+the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
+petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
+and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
+innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
+were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
+pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
+so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
+to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
+on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
+realize that all this "gladness" was in the future, not the present.
+Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected,
+he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a
+cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
+
+"You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see," she added engagingly.
+
+"YOUR doctor?" Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren,
+talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small,
+brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my doctor," smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. "Dr.
+Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton."
+
+"Oh-h!" said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly,
+who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+"Yes." Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness.
+"You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted
+you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway about--about broken
+legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do
+you?"
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite translate.
+
+"Only time can tell that, little girl," he said gently; then he turned a
+grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly,
+if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyanna's
+unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its
+hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been
+open, Pollyanna would not have heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In
+Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring
+"meow" of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply
+Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+"Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will NEVER WALK
+again!"
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyanna's
+terrified "Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!" Then Miss Polly, seeing the open
+door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan
+and--for the first time in her life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking "She heard!" stumbled toward the open door.
+The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stay--he had
+caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by, helplessly. It was
+not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply and the nurse closed the
+door, that the two men, with a despairing glance into each other's eyes,
+awoke to the immediate duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms
+back to unhappy consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the
+bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed
+little girl.
+
+"Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick,
+please!"
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very
+pale.
+
+"She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little later.
+What is it? Can't I--get it?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me 'tisn't
+true--'tisn't true!"
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent
+an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You don't
+mean I can't ever--walk again?"
+
+"There, there, dear--don't, don't!" choked the nurse. "Perhaps he didn't
+know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that could happen,
+you know."
+
+"But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody
+else about--about broken legs like mine!"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't, dear."
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. "But I can't help thinking about
+it," she sobbed. "It's all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt,
+how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or
+anybody?" She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly
+she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. "Why, Miss Hunt, if
+I can't walk, how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not know "the game;" but she did know that her patient
+must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and
+heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside
+with the quieting powder ready.
+
+"There, there, dear, just take this," she soothed; "and by and by we'll
+be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things aren't half
+as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know."
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the
+glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+"I know; that sounds like things father used to say," faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. "He said there was always something
+about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard
+he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about
+that, that could be worse--do you?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's
+verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct
+information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she
+felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then
+to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this
+extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and
+its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.
+She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few
+minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
+
+"I'm Nancy, sir," she said respectfully, in response to the surprised
+questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. "Miss Harrington
+sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna."
+
+"Well?"
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the
+anxiety that lay behind that short "well?"
+
+"It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton," she choked.
+
+"You don't mean--" He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+"Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never."
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,
+in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+"Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!"
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed
+that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment
+he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
+
+"It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism
+girl!"
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+"She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?"
+
+"But she does, sir." sobbed Nancy, "an' that's what makes it all the
+harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon," apologized the
+girl, hurriedly. "It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' Miss
+Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way."
+
+"Poor--little--girl!" sighed the man again.
+
+"Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her," choked Nancy. "I
+hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me up
+both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keeps
+thinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,
+too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about her
+game, though," broke off Nancy, apologetically.
+
+"The 'glad game'?" asked the man. "Oh, yes; she told me of that."
+
+"Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.
+But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.
+She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'
+again, ter be glad about."
+
+"Well, why should she?" retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+"That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD be
+easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remind
+her."
+
+"To remind her! Of what?" John Pendleton's voice was still angrily
+impatient.
+
+"Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, ye
+know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb just
+cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy ter
+TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing when
+you're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. She
+says she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that other
+folks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't
+really THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again."
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over his
+eyes.
+
+"Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all the
+nicer ter play when--when it was hard," resumed Nancy, in a dull voice.
+"But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' I
+must be goin', now, sir," she broke off abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+"I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Bean
+again, I s'pose, sir, could I?"
+
+"I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him," observed the man a
+little shortly. "Why?"
+
+"Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she was
+feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She said
+she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well that
+day, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nice
+child's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; but
+I didn't, sir."
+
+"Yes, I know--what she means."
+
+"All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,
+she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. And
+now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!"
+And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn that
+the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would never
+walk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.
+Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that had
+always a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the "game" that
+Pollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smiling
+face be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery little
+voice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed
+unbelievable, impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked of
+it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places the
+men talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talking
+nor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,
+came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what had
+come to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play
+the game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of the
+Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:
+calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,
+women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that her
+niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stood
+awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, according
+to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty to
+tempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blew
+their noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the little
+injured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was these
+messages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.
+
+"I don't need to tell you how shocked I am," he began almost harshly.
+"But can--nothing be done?"
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+"Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certain
+treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying
+them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost no
+hope."
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face was
+white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking at
+him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her
+presence. At the door he turned.
+
+"I have a message for Pollyanna," he said. "Will you tell her, please,
+that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.
+Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,
+probably."
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.
+
+"You will adopt Jimmy Bean!" she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+"Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought she
+would be--GLAD!"
+
+"Why, of--of course," faltered Miss Polly.
+
+"Thank you," bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still
+looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely
+believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John
+Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and
+supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+"Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He has
+just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his
+little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it."
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+"Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted to
+find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'm
+so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child's
+presence."
+
+"The--what?"
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never told
+her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly she
+would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of
+leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+"The child's presence," stammered Pollyanna, hastily. "Mr. Pendleton
+told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child's
+presence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child's
+presence."
+
+"Oh, I--see," said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more than
+Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probably
+brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was
+asking HER to be the "child's presence," which was to transform his
+great pile of gray stone into a home. "I see," she finished, her eyes
+stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendleton
+house and its master.
+
+"Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or a
+child's presence, to make a home, you know," she remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+"DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?"
+
+"He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--not
+a home."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+"So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, and
+have a home."
+
+"Pollyanna!" Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a sudden
+color.
+
+"Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful."
+
+"What did he--say?" Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of some
+force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+"He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that you
+couldn't always get 'em for the asking."
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to the
+window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one."
+
+"Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?"
+
+"Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He said
+that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the world
+if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's the
+matter?" Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.
+
+"Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism," said Aunt
+Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly Snow
+called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington
+homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly
+entered the room.
+
+"I--I came to inquire for the little girl," she stammered.
+
+"You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?" rejoined
+Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+"That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell Miss
+Pollyanna," hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. "We
+think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that the little thing can't
+ever walk again; and after all she's done for us, too--for mother, you
+know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how
+now she couldn't play it herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see
+how she CAN, either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the
+things she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about the
+game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--" Milly stopped
+helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled questioning in
+her eyes. Only about half of what had been said, had she understood. She
+was thinking now that she always had known that Milly Snow was "queer,"
+but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could
+she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words.
+When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+"I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want
+me to tell my niece?"
+
+"Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her," answered the girl, feverishly.
+"Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's SEEN some things,
+because she's been there, and she's known mother is different; but I
+want her to know HOW different she is--and me, too. I'm different. I've
+been trying to play it--the game--a little."
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+"game," but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with
+nervous volubility.
+
+"You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was always
+wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one could blame her
+much--under the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up,
+and she takes interest in things--how she looks, and her nightdress, and
+all that. And she's actually begun to knit little things--reins and baby
+blankets for fairs and hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD
+to think she can do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you
+know, 'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didn't DO
+something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do something--to
+knit, you know. And you can't think what a different room it is now,
+what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the
+window that SHE gave her--why, it actually makes you feel BETTER just to
+go in there now; and before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark
+and gloomy, and mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+"And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand
+it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad we know her, that
+we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that
+she knew us. And--and that's all," sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her
+feet. "You'll tell her?"
+
+"Why, of course," murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this
+remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of
+many; and always there were the messages--the messages which were in
+some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and more to puzzle
+over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her well,
+though they had never called upon each other. By reputation she knew
+her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was always in black.
+To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat,
+though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror
+at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+"I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps."
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had
+almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+"Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message," she stammered.
+
+"Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to."
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+"Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS," she said, just
+touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Polly's ill-concealed
+look of surprise, she added: "The little girl has been trying for so
+long to make me wear--some color, that I thought she'd be--glad to know
+I'd begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would.
+You know Freddy's ALL I have now. The others have all--" Mrs. Benton
+shook her head and turned away. "If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand." And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at least, she
+wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered
+vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as
+"Mrs. Tarbell."
+
+"I'm a stranger to you, of course," she began at once. "But I'm not a
+stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the hotel all
+summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for my health. It was
+on these walks that I've met your niece--she's such a dear little girl!
+I wish I could make you understand what she's been to me. I was very
+sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me
+of--my own little girl that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear
+of the accident; and then when I learned that the poor child would never
+walk again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad any
+longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you."
+
+"You are very kind," murmured Miss Polly.
+
+"But it is you who are to be kind," demurred the other. "I--I want you
+to give her a message from me. Will you?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I
+know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if you'll pardon me
+I'd rather not explain." Sad lines came to the lady's mouth, and the
+smile left her eyes. "Your niece will know just what I mean; and I felt
+that I must tell--her. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming
+rudeness in my call," she begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyanna's
+room.
+
+"Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and she's
+at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I mean--we used to."
+Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+"We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for you--but she
+wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell
+is glad now."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+"Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?"
+
+"Why, it's the game, and--" Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her
+lips.
+
+"What game?"
+
+"N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I tell
+other things that--that I'm not to speak of."
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but the
+obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words before they
+were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in the
+shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally pink cheeks
+and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore high heels and cheap
+jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew very well by reputation--but
+whom she was angrily amazed to meet beneath the roof of the Harrington
+homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she entered
+the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had been
+crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment, see the
+little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but something in
+the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one
+was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was
+still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+"My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard of
+me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some of the
+things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's about the
+little girl I came. I heard about the accident, and--and it broke me
+all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't ever walk again, and--and
+I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. She'd
+do more good trotting around on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred
+years. But never mind that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can
+make the best use of 'em, I notice."
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was
+still husky.
+
+"Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that little girl
+of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by
+often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in and played with the
+kids and talked to me--and my man, when he was home. She seemed to like
+it, and to like us. She didn't know, I suspect, that her kind of folks
+don't generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss
+Harrington, there wouldn't be so many--of my kind," she added, with
+sudden bitterness.
+
+"Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm, and she
+did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't know--nor can't know,
+I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other things--that I don't want
+her to know.
+
+"But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in more
+ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and me, and ready
+for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now,
+and letting the kids well, we didn't know what we would do with the
+kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girl's
+never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come and
+sit on our doorstep and train with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be
+glad. She was always being glad about something; and then, one day, she
+told us why, and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play
+it.
+
+"Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life out of
+her, because she can't play it no more--that there's nothing to be glad
+about. And that's what I came to tell her to-day--that maybe she can be
+a little glad for us, 'cause we've decided to stick to each other, and
+play the game ourselves. I knew she would be glad, because she used to
+feel kind of bad--at things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is
+going to help us, I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill.
+Anyhow, we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?"
+
+"Yes, I will tell her," promised Miss Polly, a little faintly. Then,
+with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her hand. "And
+thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson," she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With an
+incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched at the
+outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting visits
+of the last few days, culminating as they had in the extraordinary
+experience of the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snapping
+point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident had Nancy heard her mistress
+speak so sternly.
+
+"Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the whole town
+seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my niece to do with
+it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs. Tom Payson, send word to
+her that they're 'playing it'? As near as I can judge, half the town
+are putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, or learning to
+like something they never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I
+tried to ask the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make
+much headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you were one
+of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?"
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+"It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest been
+makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round an' tryin'
+ter make her a little glad, too."
+
+"Glad of what?"
+
+"Just glad! That's the game."
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+"There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?"
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her squarely in
+the eye.
+
+"I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned her
+ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary barrel when
+she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course, like any child would.
+It seems 'twas then her father told her that there wasn't ever anythin'
+but what there was somethin' about it that you could be glad about; an'
+that she could be glad about them crutches."
+
+"Glad for--CRUTCHES!" Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was thinking of
+the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+"Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what she
+said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she DIDN'T NEED
+'EM."
+
+"Oh-h!" cried Miss Polly.
+
+"And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin' somethin'
+in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could do it, too, and
+that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll so much, 'cause ye was
+so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An' they called it the 'jest bein'
+glad' game. That's the game, ma'am. She's played it ever since."
+
+"But, how--how--" Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+"An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,"
+maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. "I
+wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the folks out
+home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me. She's made me
+glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things, an' big things; an'
+it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I don't mind 'Nancy' for
+a name half as much since she told me I could be glad 'twa'n't
+'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's, too, that I used ter hate so.
+She's actually made me glad for Monday mornin's."
+
+"Glad--for Monday mornings!"
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That blessed
+lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful; an' what does
+she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow, Nancy, I should
+think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than on any other day in
+the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK before you'd have another
+one!' An' I'm blest if I hain't thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin'
+since--an' it HAS helped, ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I
+thought of it; an' laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!"
+
+"But why hasn't--she told me--the game?" faltered Miss Polly. "Why has
+she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?"
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her father;
+so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye see."
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+"She wanted ter tell ye, first off," continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. "She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. That's why I
+begun it, so she could have some one."
+
+"And--and--these others?" Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+"Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think
+they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of course she
+told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they
+gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an' pleasant ter ev'ry
+one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the time, that they couldn't
+help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so
+bad--specially when they heard how bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find
+anythin' ter be glad about. An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter
+tell her how glad she's made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see,
+she's always wanted ev'rybody ter play the game with her."
+
+"Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now," choked Miss Polly, as she
+turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+"Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now," she muttered to herself.
+"Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe, now--o' Miss
+Polly!"
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly and
+Pollyanna alone together.
+
+"And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear," announced Miss
+Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. "Do you remember Mrs.
+Payson?"
+
+"Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes
+they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're poor, too, they say,
+and of course they don't ever have barrels, 'cause he isn't a missionary
+minister, you know, like--well, he isn't."
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+"But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being
+so poor," resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. "And she's got perfectly
+beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she
+says she's got one ring too many, and that she's going to throw it away
+and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it
+isn't very nice, because she didn't look happy when she talked about it.
+And she said if she did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and
+that Mr. Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many
+more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?"
+
+"But they aren't going 'way off, dear," evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly.
+"They're going to stay right there together."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O dear!"
+broke off the little girl, miserably. "Aunt Polly, why CAN'T I remember
+that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't ever, ever go up to see
+Mr. Pendleton again?"
+
+"There, there, don't," choked her aunt. "Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson
+said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going to stay
+together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to."
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+"Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!"
+
+"Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to make
+you--GLAD, Pollyanna."
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know about
+the game, Aunt Polly?"
+
+"Yes, dear." Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully
+matter-of-fact. "Nancy told me. I think it's a beautiful game. I'm going
+to play it now--with you."
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted you most
+of anybody, all the time."
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this
+time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+"Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think
+all the town is playing that game now with you--even to the minister! I
+haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford
+when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just
+as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadn't
+stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you
+told him about. So you see, dear, it's just you that have done it.
+The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully
+happier--and all because of one little girl who taught the people a new
+game, and how to play it."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. "Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs, anyway--else I
+couldn't have done--that!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Very
+resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful face
+toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, now
+that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many things
+to be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the story
+one day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found a
+blown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks did
+that didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the
+other story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two
+teeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth "hit"!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out of
+bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across the
+white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she had
+her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving
+messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her
+something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to think
+about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.
+John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and
+how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,
+and what bang-up "folks" Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that it
+was all owing to her.
+
+"Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,"
+Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribed
+treatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead's
+worst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; and
+of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself into
+a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some way
+to procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,
+and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besides
+anxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the dogged
+determination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat
+to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas
+Chilton.
+
+"Pendleton," began the doctor, abruptly, "I've come to you because you,
+better than any one else in town, know something of my relations with
+Miss Polly Harrington."
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--he
+did know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and Thomas
+Chilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteen
+years, or more.
+
+"Yes," he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for
+sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that he
+need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on his
+errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+"Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I
+MUST make an examination."
+
+"Well--can't you?"
+
+"CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that door
+for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--that
+the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to
+enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
+would be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her
+summoning me now--but I don't!"
+
+"But couldn't you go--without a summons?"
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+"Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know."
+
+"But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forget
+the quarrel--"
+
+"Forget the quarrel!" interrupted the doctor, savagely. "I'm not talking
+of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from here
+there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It's
+PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm a
+doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me!'can I?"
+
+"Chilton, what was the quarrel?" demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+"What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?" he snarled,
+pacing the room angrily. "A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or
+the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its having
+any real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!
+Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say
+there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life
+or death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!"
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken just
+as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near John
+Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached
+the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the ground
+outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first little
+green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.
+
+"Walk! Pollyanna!" John Pendleton was saying. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend of
+mine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing a
+special study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.
+And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!"
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+"You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?"
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--Miss
+Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,
+even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of his
+best patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my hands
+still more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!
+Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!"
+
+"Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!" retorted Pendleton.
+
+"But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'll
+never get!"
+
+"She must be made to ask you!"
+
+"How?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angry
+to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did ask
+me. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when
+I think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that
+confounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--" He
+did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,
+angrily.
+
+"But if she could be made to see--to understand," urged John Pendleton.
+
+"Yes; and who's going to do it?" demanded the doctor, with a savage
+turn.
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+"Well, by Jinks, I know!" he whispered, exultingly. "I'M a-goin' ter
+do it!" And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the
+corner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+"It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am," announced Nancy in the
+doorway.
+
+"Me?" rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. "Are you sure he did not
+mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day, if he likes."
+
+"Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted."
+
+"Very well, I'll come down." And Miss Polly arose from her chair a
+little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+"Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm sayin';
+but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk over hot coals for
+her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that, any time. An' I think you
+would, too, if you thought there was a chance for her ter walk again.
+An' so that's why I come ter tell ye that as long as it's only pride an'
+et--et-somethin' that's keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you
+WOULD ask Dr. Chilton here if you understood--"
+
+"Wh-at?" interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her face
+changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+"There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by tellin' ye
+about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter that."
+
+"Jimmy, what are you talking about?"
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+"That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye."
+
+"Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of it as
+you did before--and mix everything all up!"
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+"Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton, an' they
+talked in the library. Do you understand that?"
+
+"Yes, Jimmy." Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+"Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed under it;
+an' I heard 'em talk."
+
+"Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?"
+
+"'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin'," bridled Jimmy.
+"And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why, it may make
+Pollyanna--walk!"
+
+"Jimmy, what do you mean?" Miss Polly was leaning forward eagerly.
+
+"There, I told ye so," nodded Jimmy, contentedly. "Well, Dr. Chilton
+knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he thinks--make her
+walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he SEES her. And he wants ter
+see her somethin' awful, but he told Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let
+him."
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+"But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!" Miss Polly
+was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+"Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know," asserted
+Jimmy, eagerly. "They said that for some reason--I didn't rightly catch
+what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an' you told Dr. Warren so; an'
+Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself, without you asked him, on account of
+pride an' professional et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was
+wishin' somebody could make you understand, only they didn't know who
+could; an' I was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away,
+'By Jinks, I'll do it!' An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?"
+
+"Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor," implored Miss Polly, feverishly.
+"Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could make Pollyanna
+walk?"
+
+"I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him, an'
+he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks. Anyhow,
+they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM. 'Twas YOU they
+was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton see her. An'
+say--you will let him come, won't you?--now you understand?"
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was coming
+in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with anxious eyes,
+thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry. After a minute she
+said brokenly:
+
+"Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick! I've
+got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him drive in a few
+minutes ago."
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised to
+hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+"Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called in
+consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered. I very
+much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you not ask him at
+once--please? Thank you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+"Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!" cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one pair of
+eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. "But, of course, if Aunt
+Polly doesn't want--"
+
+"It is all right, my dear; don't worry," soothed Miss Polly, agitatedly,
+hurrying forward. "I have told Dr. Chilton that--that I want him to look
+you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning."
+
+"Oh, then you asked him to come," murmured Pollyanna, contentedly.
+
+"Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--" But it was too late. The adoring
+happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was unmistakable and
+Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks she turned and left the
+room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking earnestly. Dr.
+Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+"Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you ever
+did has been done to-day," he said in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt Polly
+crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They had the room
+to themselves.
+
+"Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of all. Some
+day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for your--uncle. And it's
+you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna, I'm so--happy! And
+so--glad!--darling!"
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her small
+palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them suspended.
+
+"Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he wanted
+so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he meant by
+saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so glad! Why, Aunt
+Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't mind--even my legs,
+now!"
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+"Perhaps, some day, dear--" But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt Polly
+did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton had put into
+her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was quite wonderful
+enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+"Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and carriages
+to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from here made on
+purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear friend of Dr.
+Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do for you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+"Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I did
+to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six steps. My, how
+good it was to be on legs again!
+
+"All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses stood
+beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who walked last week
+first, peeked into the door, and another one who hopes she can walk next
+month, was invited in to the party, and she laid on my nurse's bed and
+clapped her hands. Even Black Tilly who washes the floor, looked through
+the piazza window and called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying
+too much to call me anything.
+
+"I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and yell!
+Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't mind being
+here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding, anyhow. Wasn't
+that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here and get married right
+beside my bed, so I could see you. You always do think of the gladdest
+things!
+
+"Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all the way
+there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride anywhere any
+more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so glad! I'm glad for
+everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs for a while, for you never,
+never know how perfectly lovely legs are till you haven't got them--that
+go, I mean. I'm going to walk eight steps to-morrow.
+
+"With heaps of love to everybody,
+
+"POLLYANNA."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
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+*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter*
+#4 in our series by Eleanor H. Porter*
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+Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter
+
+Scanned by Charles Keller for Tina with OmniPage Professional OCR
+
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+By ELEANOR H. PORTER
+
+Author of "Miss Billy," "Miss Billy's Decision,"
+"Cross Currents," "The Turn of the Tides," etc.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+My Cousin Belle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER
+I. MISS POLLY
+II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+V. THE GAME
+VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+XV. DR. CHILTON
+XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL
+XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+XVIII. PRISMS
+XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+XXV. A WAITING GAME
+XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+XXVII. TWO VISITS
+XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+POLLYANNA
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY
+
+Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this
+June morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements;
+she specially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day
+she was hurrying--actually hurrying.
+
+Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy
+had been working in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but
+already she knew that her mistress did not usually hurry.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued
+wiping the pitcher in her hand.
+
+"Nancy,"--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--"when I'm
+talking to you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I
+have to say."
+
+Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with
+the cloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which
+did not add to her composure.
+
+"Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am," she stammered, righting the pitcher,
+and turning hastily. "I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause
+you specially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye
+know."
+
+Her mistress frowned.
+
+"That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for
+your attention."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in
+any way she could please this woman. Nancy had never "worked out"
+before; but a sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three
+younger children besides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into
+doing something toward their support, and she had been so pleased
+when she found a place in the kitchen of the great house on the
+hill--Nancy had come from "The Corners," six miles away, and she
+knew Miss Polly Harrington only as the mistress of the old
+Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiest residents of the
+town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly now as a
+stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered to the
+floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even
+when knives and doors were still.
+
+"When you've finished your morning work, Nancy," Miss Polly was
+saying now, "you may clear the little room at the head of the
+stairs in the attic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and
+clean it, of course, after you clear out the trunks and boxes."
+
+"Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I
+take out?"
+
+"In the front attic."  Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: "I
+suppose I may as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss
+Pollyanna Whittier, is coming to live with me. She is eleven
+years old, and will sleep in that room."
+
+"A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be
+nice!" cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little
+sisters made in the home at "The Corners."
+
+"Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use," rejoined
+Miss Polly, stiffly. "However, I intend to make the best of it,
+of course. I am a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty."
+
+Nancy colored hotly.
+
+"Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl here
+might--might brighten things up for you," she faltered.
+
+"Thank you," rejoined the lady, dryly. "I can't say, however,
+that I see any immediate need for that."
+
+"But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child,"
+ventured Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a
+welcome for this lonely little stranger.
+
+Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.
+
+"Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister
+who was silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into
+a world that was already quite full enough, I can't see how I
+should particularly WANT to have the care of them myself.
+However, as I said before, I hope I know my duty. See that you
+clean the corners, Nancy," she finished sharply, as she left the
+room.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried
+pitcher--now so cold it must be rinsed again.
+
+
+In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which
+she had received two days before from the far-away Western town,
+and which had been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter
+was addressed to Miss Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont;
+and it read as follows:
+
+"Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier
+died two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old.
+He left practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you
+doubtless know, he was the pastor of this small mission church,
+and had a very meagre salary.
+
+"I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me
+to understand the families were not on the best of terms. He
+thought, however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to
+take the child and bring her up among her own people in the East.
+Hence I am writing to you.
+
+"The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get
+this letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very
+much if you would write that she might come at once, as there is
+a man and his wife here who are going East very soon, and they
+would take her with them to Boston, and put her on the
+Beldingsville train. Of course you would be notified what day and
+train to expect Pollyanna on.
+
+"Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,
+"Respectfully yours,
+"Jeremiah O. White."
+
+
+With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its
+envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said
+she would take the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty
+well enough for that!--disagreeable as the task would be.
+
+As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went
+back to her sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and
+to the time when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon
+marrying the young minister, in spite of her family's
+remonstrances. There had been a man of wealth who had wanted
+her--and the family had much preferred him to the minister; but
+Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as well as more
+money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young head
+full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.
+Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had
+married the minister, and had gone south with him as a home
+missionary's wife.
+
+The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though
+she had been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time.
+The family had had little more to do with the missionary's wife.
+To be sure, Jennie herself had written, for a time, and had named
+her last baby "Pollyanna" for her two sisters, Polly and
+Anna--the other babies had all died. This had been the last time
+that Jennie had written; and in a few years there had come the
+news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little note
+from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.
+
+Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the
+great house on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the
+far-reaching valley below, thought of the changes those
+twenty-five years had brought to her.
+
+She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,
+sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole
+mistress of the house and of the thousands left her by her
+father. There were people who had openly pitied her lonely life,
+and who had urged her to have some friend or companion to live
+with her; but she had not welcomed either their sympathy or their
+advice. She was not lonely, she said. She liked being by herself.
+She preferred quiet. But now--
+
+Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was
+glad, of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only
+knew her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to
+perform it. But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
+
+In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously,
+paying particular attention to the corners. There were times,
+indeed, when the vigor she put into her work was more of a relief
+to her feelings than it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in
+spite of her frightened submission to her mistress, was no saint.
+
+"I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!"
+she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs
+of her pointed cleaning-stick. "There's plenty of 'em needs
+cleanin' all right, all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed
+child 'way off up here in this hot little room--with no fire in
+the winter, too, and all this big house ter pick and choose from!
+Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!" snapped Nancy, wringing her
+rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain; "I guess it ain't
+CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!"
+
+For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she
+looked about the bare little room in plain disgust.
+
+"Well, it's done--my part, anyhow," she sighed. "There ain't no
+dirt here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a
+pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!"
+she finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, "Oh!"
+she ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly:  "Well, I don't
+care. I hope she did hear the bang,--I do, I do!"
+
+In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which
+to interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the
+paths about the place for uncounted years.
+
+"Mr. Tom," began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder
+to make sure she was unobserved; "did you know a little girl was
+comin' here ter live with Miss Polly?"
+
+"A--what?" demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
+difficulty.
+
+"A little girl--to live with Miss Polly."
+
+"Go on with yer jokin'," scoffed unbelieving Tom. "Why don't ye
+tell me the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?"
+
+"But it's true. She told me so herself," maintained Nancy. "It's
+her niece; and she's eleven years old."
+
+The man's jaw fell.
+
+"Sho!--I wonder, now," he muttered; then a tender light came into
+his faded eyes. "It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little
+gal! There wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it
+must be Miss Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think
+of my old eyes a-seein' this!"
+
+"Who was Miss Jennie?"
+
+"She was an angel straight out of Heaven," breathed the man,
+fervently; "but the old master and missus knew her as their
+oldest daughter. She was twenty when she married and went away
+from here long years ago. Her babies all died, I heard, except
+the last one; and that must be the one what's a-comin'."
+
+"She's eleven years old."
+
+"Yes, she might be," nodded the old man.
+
+"And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!"
+scolded Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the
+house behind her.
+
+Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
+
+"I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the
+house," he said.
+
+"Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss
+Polly in the house!" snapped Nancy.
+
+The old man laughed.
+
+"I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly," he grinned.
+
+"As if ever anybody could be fond of her!" scorned Nancy.
+
+Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
+
+"I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair,"
+he said slowly.
+
+"Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither."
+
+"Oh, yes they did," nodded the old man. "And the feller's livin'
+ter-day--right in this town, too."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"I ain't a-tellin' that. It ain't fit that I should." The old man
+drew himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house,
+there was the loyal servant's honest pride in the family he has
+served and loved for long years.
+
+"But it don't seem possible--her and a lover," still maintained
+Nancy.
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"You didn't know Miss Polly as I did," he argued. "She used ter
+be real handsome--and she would be now, if she'd let herself be."
+
+"Handsome! Miss Polly!"
+
+"Yes. If she'd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and
+careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits
+with posies in 'em, and the kind o' dresses all lace and white
+things--you'd see she'd be handsome! Miss Polly ain't old,
+Nancy."
+
+"Ain't she, though? Well, then she's got an awfully good
+imitation of it--she has, she has!" sniffed Nancy.
+
+"Yes, I know. It begun then--at the time of the trouble with her
+lover," nodded Old Tom; "and it seems as if she'd been feedin' on
+wormwood an' thistles ever since--she's that bitter an' prickly
+ter deal with."
+
+"I should say she was," declared Nancy, indignantly. "There's no
+pleasin' her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldn't stay if
+'twa'n't for the wages and the folks at home what's needin' 'em.
+But some day--some day I shall jest b'ile over; and when I do, of
+course it'll be good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will."
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"I know. I've felt it. It's nart'ral--but 'tain't best, child;
+'tain't best. Take my word for it, 'tain't best." And again he
+bent his old head to the work before him.
+
+"Nancy!" called a sharp voice.
+
+"Y-yes, ma'am," stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
+
+In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would
+arrive in Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June,
+at four o'clock. Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then
+climbed the stairs to the attic room. She still frowned as she
+looked about her.
+
+The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed
+chairs, a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small
+table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no
+pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon
+the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there
+were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was
+buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down,
+trying to get out.
+
+Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising
+the sash an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned
+again, and left the room.
+
+"Nancy," she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, "I
+found a fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyanna's room. The window must
+have been raised at some time. I have ordered screens, but until
+they come I shall expect you to see that the windows remain
+closed. My niece will arrive to-morrow at four o'clock. I desire
+you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take the open buggy
+and drive you over. The telegram says 'light hair, red-checked
+gingham dress, and straw hat.' That is all I know, but I think it
+is sufficient for your purpose."
+
+"Yes, ma'am; but--you--"
+
+Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and
+said crisply:
+
+"No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think.
+That is all."  And she turned away--Miss Polly's arrangements for
+the comfort of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
+
+In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across
+the dish-towel she was ironing.
+
+" 'Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat'--all she
+knows, indeed! Well, I'd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would,
+I would--and her my onliest niece what was a-comin' from 'way
+across the continent!"
+
+Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and
+Nancy drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest.
+Timothy was Old Tom's son. It was sometimes said in the town that
+if Old Tom was Miss Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
+
+Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as
+well. Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were
+already good friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her
+mission to be her usual talkative self; and almost in silence she
+took the drive to the station and alighted to wait for the train.
+
+Over and over in her mind she was saying it "light hair,
+red-checked dress, straw hat."  Over and over again she was
+wondering just what sort of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
+
+"I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop
+knives nor bang doors," she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered
+up to her.
+
+"Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of
+us," grinned Timothy. "Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry!
+there goes the whistle now!"
+
+"Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me," chattered the
+suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point
+where she could best watch the passengers alight at the little
+station.
+
+It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in
+the red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair
+hanging down her back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled
+little face turned to the right and to the left, plainly
+searching for some one.
+
+Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she
+control her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little
+girl was standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did
+approach her.
+
+"Are you Miss--Pollyanna?" she faltered. The next moment she
+found herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad
+arms.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you," cried an eager voice in
+her ear. "Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to
+meet me! I hoped you would."
+
+"You--you did?" stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna
+could possibly have known her--and wanted her. "You--you did?" she
+repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
+
+"Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you
+looked like," cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and
+sweeping the embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes.
+"And now I know, and I'm glad you look just like you do look."
+
+Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's
+words had been most confusing.
+
+"This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk," she stammered.
+
+"Yes, I have," nodded Pollyanna, importantly. "I've got a
+brand-new one. The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it
+lovely of them, when they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't
+know how much red carpet a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy
+some, anyhow--much as half an aisle, don't you think? I've got a
+little thing here in my bag that Mr. Gray said was a check, and
+that I must give it to you before I could get my trunk. Mr. Gray
+is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of Deacon Carr's wife. I
+came East with them, and they're lovely! And--there, here 'tis,"
+she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag
+she carried.
+
+Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one
+had to draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at
+Timothy. Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
+
+The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
+Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy.
+During the whole process of getting started, the little girl had
+kept up an uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until
+the somewhat dazed Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying
+to keep up with her.
+
+"There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to
+ride," sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. "Of course,
+if 'tisn't far, I sha'n't mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to
+get there all the sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew
+'twas going to be pretty; father told me--"
+
+She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
+apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that
+her eyes were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried
+on, with a brave lifting of her head.
+
+"Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to
+have explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this
+red gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said
+you'd think 'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in
+the last missionary barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which
+Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't suitable for me at all; besides,
+it had white spots--worn, you know--on both elbows, and some
+other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to buy me a black
+dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go
+toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
+know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she
+didn't like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the
+children, of course, but not the black part."
+
+Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
+
+"Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right."
+
+"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too," nodded Pollyanna, again
+with that choking little breath. "Of course, 'twould have been a
+good deal harder to be glad in black--"
+
+"Glad!" gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
+
+"Yes--that father's gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest
+of us, you know. He said I must be glad. But it's been pretty
+hard to--to do it, even in red gingham, because I--I wanted him,
+so; and I couldn't help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as
+mother and the rest have God and all the angels, while I didn't
+have anybody but the Ladies' Aid. But now I'm sure it'll be
+easier because I've got you, Aunt Polly. I'm so glad I've got
+you!"
+
+Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside
+her turned suddenly into shocked terror.
+
+"Oh, but--but you've made an awful mistake, d-dear," she
+faltered. "I'm only Nancy. I ain't your Aunt Polly, at all!"
+
+"You--you AREN'T?" stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.
+
+"No. I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her.
+We--we ain't a bit alike we ain't, we ain't!"
+
+Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer
+the merry flash from his eyes.
+
+"But who ARE you?" questioned Pollyanna. "You don't look a bit
+like a Ladies' Aider!"
+
+Timothy laughed outright this time.
+
+"I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin'
+an' hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that."
+
+"But there IS an Aunt Polly?" demanded the child, anxiously.
+
+"You bet your life there is," cut in Timothy.
+
+Pollyanna relaxed visibly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then."  There was a moment's silence, then
+she went on brightly:  "And do you know? I'm glad, after all,
+that she didn't come to meet me; because now I've got HER still
+coming, and I've got you besides."
+
+Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.
+
+"I call that a pretty slick compliment," he said. "Why don't you
+thank the little lady?"
+
+"I--I was thinkin' about--Miss Polly," faltered Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed contentedly.
+
+"I was, too. I'm so interested in her. You know she's all the
+aunt I've got, and I didn't know I had her for ever so long. Then
+father told me. He said she lived in a lovely great big house
+'way on top of a hill."
+
+"She does. You can see it now," said Nancy.
+
+"It's that big white one with the green blinds, 'way ahead."
+
+"Oh, how pretty!--and what a lot of trees and grass all around
+it! I never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once.
+Is my Aunt Polly rich, Nancy?"
+
+"Yes, Miss."
+
+"I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money.
+I never knew any one that did have, only the Whites--they're some
+rich. They have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does
+Aunt Polly have ice-cream Sundays?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look
+into Timothy's eyes.
+
+"No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I
+never saw it on her table."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, doesn't she? I'm so sorry! I don't see how she can help
+liking ice-cream. But--anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that,
+'cause the ice-cream you don't eat can't make your stomach ache
+like Mrs. White's did--that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it.
+Maybe Aunt Polly has got the carpets, though."
+
+"Yes, she's got the carpets."
+
+"In every room?"
+
+"Well, in almost every room," answered Nancy, frowning suddenly
+at the thought of that bare little attic room where there was no
+carpet.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," exulted Pollyanna. "I love carpets. We didn't
+have any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel,
+and one of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures,
+too, perfectly beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling
+and a kitty and some lambs and a lion--not together, you
+know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of course the Bible says they
+will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is, I mean Mrs. White's
+haven't. Don't you just love pictures?"
+
+"I--I don't know," answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
+
+"I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the
+barrels much, you know. There did two come once, though. But one
+was so good father sold it to get money to buy me some shoes
+with; and the other was so bad it fell to pieces just as soon as
+we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you know. And I cried. But I'm
+glad now we didn't have any of those nice things, 'cause I shall
+like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used to 'em, you see.
+Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in the barrels
+after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
+perfectly beautiful house?" she broke off fervently, as they
+turned into the wide driveway.
+
+It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
+opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
+
+"Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy
+Durgin. You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!"
+
+"Leave! I should say not," grinned the youth.
+
+"You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that
+kid 'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!"
+
+"Fun!--fun!" repeated Nancy, indignantly, "I guess it'll be
+somethin' more than fun for that blessed child--when them two
+tries ter live tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some
+rock ter fly to for refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock,
+Timothy; I am, I am!" she vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna
+up the broad steps.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
+
+Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked
+up from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl
+appeared in the sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand
+with "duty" written large on every coldly extended finger.
+
+"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
+Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself
+into her aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough
+that you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You
+don't know how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and
+all this after you've had just the Ladies' Aid!"
+
+"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies'
+Aid's acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to
+unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on
+Nancy in the doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go.
+Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper
+manner. I don't know yet what you look like."
+
+Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
+
+"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to took
+at, anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to
+explain about the red gingham and the black velvet basque with
+white spots on the elbows. I told Nancy how father said--"
+
+"Yes; well, never mind now what your father said," interrupted
+Miss Polly, crisply. "You had a trunk, I presume?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
+Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own,
+I mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in
+them lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White
+said she thought I ought to have those. You see, father--"
+
+"Pollyanna," interrupted her aunt again, sharply, "there is one
+thing that might just as well be understood right away at once;
+and that is, I do not care to have you keep talking of your
+father to me."
+
+The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--" She hesitated, and her aunt
+filled the pause.
+
+"We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there,
+I presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may
+follow me, Pollyanna."
+
+Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the
+room. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely
+high.
+
+"After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk
+about father," Pollyanna was thinking. "It'll be easier,
+maybe--if I don't talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why
+she told me not to talk about him." And Pollyanna, convinced anew
+of her aunt's "kindness," blinked off the tears and looked
+eagerly about her.
+
+She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk
+skirt rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a
+glimpse of soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her
+feet a marvellous carpet was like green moss to the tread. On
+every side the gilt of picture frames or the glint of sunlight
+through the filmy mesh of lace curtains flashed in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly," breathed the little girl,
+rapturously; "what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully
+glad you must be you're so rich!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she
+reached the head of the stairs. "I'm surprised at you--making a
+speech like that to me!"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?" queried Pollyanna, in frank
+wonder.
+
+"Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget
+myself as to be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit
+to bestow upon me," declared the lady; "certainly not, of
+RICHES!"
+
+Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic
+stairway door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in
+the attic room. Her idea at first had been to get her niece as
+far away as possible from herself, and at the same time place her
+where her childish heedlessness would not destroy valuable
+furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of vanity showing thus
+early--it was all the more fortunate that the room planned for
+her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
+
+Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still
+more eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at
+once, that no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house
+might be passed unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to
+the wondrously exciting problem about to be solved: behind which
+of all these fascinating doors was waiting now her room--the
+dear, beautiful room full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that
+was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt opened a door
+and ascended another stairway.
+
+There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either
+side. At the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led
+to far corners where the roof came almost down to the floor, and
+where were stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and
+stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it
+seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown
+open a door at the right.
+
+"There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I
+see. Have you your key?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and
+frightened.
+
+Her aunt frowned.
+
+"When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should
+answer aloud not merely with your head."
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that
+you need here," she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack
+and water pitcher. "I will send Nancy up to help you unpack.
+Supper is at six o'clock," she finished, as she left the room and
+swept down-stairs.
+
+For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still,
+looking after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare
+wall, the bare floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to
+the little trunk that had stood not so long before in her own
+little room in the far-away Western home. The next moment she
+stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its side,
+covering her face with her hands.
+
+Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
+
+"There, there, you poor lamb," she crooned, dropping to the floor
+and drawing the little girl into her arms. "I was just a-fearin!
+I'd find you like this, like this."
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked," she sobbed. "I
+just can't make myself understand that God and the angels needed
+my father more than I did."
+
+"No more they did, neither," declared Nancy, stoutly.
+
+"Oh-h!--NANCY!"  The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the
+tears.
+
+Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
+
+"There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course," she cried
+briskly. "Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this
+trunk and take our your dresses in no time, no time."
+
+Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
+
+"There aren't very many there, anyway," she faltered.
+
+"Then they're all the sooner unpacked," declared Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
+
+"That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?" she cried.
+
+Nancy stared.
+
+"Why, of--course," she answered a little uncertainly.
+
+Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
+patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive
+dresses. Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the
+dresses in the closet, stacking the books on the table, and
+putting away the undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think
+so?" she stammered, after a while.
+
+There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her
+head in the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a
+little wistfully at the bare wall above.
+
+"And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too,
+'cause where there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles."
+
+Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
+Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
+windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and
+clapped her hands joyously.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before," she breathed. "Look--'way
+off there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church
+spire, and the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there
+doesn't anybody need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm
+so glad now she let me have this room!"
+
+To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+Pollyanna hurriedly crossed to her side.
+
+"Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?" she cried; then, fearfully:
+"This wasn't--YOUR room, was it?"
+
+"My room!" stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. "If you
+ain't a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks
+don't eat dirt before--Oh, land! there's her bell!" After which
+amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room,
+and went clattering down the stairs.
+
+Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her "picture," as she mentally
+designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she
+touched the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she
+endure the stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her
+fingers. The next moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna
+was leaning far out, drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
+
+She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under
+her eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed
+noisily about the room. Then another came, and another; but
+Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had made a wonderful
+discovery--against this window a huge tree flung great branches.
+To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting her.
+Suddenly she laughed aloud.
+
+"I believe I can do it," she chuckled. The next moment she had
+climbed nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy
+matter to step to the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a
+monkey, she swung herself from limb to limb until the lowest
+branch was reached. The drop to the ground was--even for
+Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little fearsome. She
+took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her strong
+little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
+picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
+
+She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in
+which a bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path
+through an open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a
+lone pine tree stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna,
+at the moment, there seemed to be just one place in the world
+worth being in--the top of that big rock.
+
+With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old
+man, threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing
+things, and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran
+through the open field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb.
+Already, however, she was thinking what a long, long way off that
+rock must be, when back at the window it had looked so near!
+
+
+Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the
+Harrington homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke
+Nancy sounded the bell for supper.
+
+One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the
+floor with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet,
+went into the hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For
+a minute she listened intently; then she turned and swept into
+the dining room.
+
+"Nancy," she said with decision, as soon as the little
+serving-maid appeared; "my niece is late. No, you need not call
+her," she added severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall
+door. "I told her what time supper was, and now she will have to
+suffer the consequences. She may as well begin at once to learn
+to be punctual. When she comes down she may have bread and milk
+in the kitchen."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not
+happen to be looking at Nancy's face just then.
+
+At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the
+back stairs and thence to the attic room.
+
+"Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just
+cried herself to sleep," she was muttering fiercely, as she
+softly pushed open the door. The next moment she gave a
+frightened cry. "Where are you? Where've you gone? Where HAVE you
+gone?" she panted, looking in the closet, under the bed, and even
+in the trunk and down the water pitcher. Then she flew
+down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone," she wailed. "She's
+vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and
+me told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's
+eatin' angel food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!"
+
+The old man straightened up.
+
+"Gone? Heaven?" he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
+brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
+intently, then turned with a slow grin. "Well, Nancy, it do look
+like as if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and
+that's a fact," he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to
+where, sharply outlined against the reddening sky, a slender,
+wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge rock.
+
+"Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I
+has my say," declared Nancy, doggedly. "If the mistress asks,
+tell her I ain't furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,"
+she flung back over her shoulder, as she sped toward the path
+that led through the open field.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. THE GAME
+
+"For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give
+me," panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which
+Pollyanna had just regretfully slid.
+
+"Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get
+scared about me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it,
+too, till they found I always came back all right."
+
+"But I didn't even know you'd went," cried Nancy, tucking the
+little girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill.
+"I didn't see you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right
+up through the roof; I do, I do."
+
+Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
+
+"I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the
+tree."
+
+Nancy stopped short.
+
+"You did--what?"
+
+"Came down the tree, outside my window."
+
+"My stars and stockings!" gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. "I'd
+like ter know what yer aunt would say ter that!"
+
+"Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,"
+promised the little girl, cheerfully.
+
+"Mercy!" gasped Nancy. "No--no!"
+
+"Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!" cried Pollyanna, plainly
+disturbed.
+
+"No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular
+about knowin' what she'd say, truly," stammered Nancy, determined
+to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. "But, say,
+we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know."
+
+"I'll help," promised Pollyanna, promptly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna!" demurred Nancy.
+
+For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast.
+Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
+
+"I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little,
+'cause then you came after me," she shivered.
+
+"Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid
+you'll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer
+aunt didn't like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye
+know."
+
+"But I couldn't. I was up here."
+
+"Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!" observed Nancy, dryly,
+stifling a chuckle. "I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I
+am."
+
+"Oh, I'm not. I'm glad."
+
+"Glad! Why?"
+
+"Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I
+don't see any trouble about being glad about that."
+
+"You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',"
+retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of
+Pollyanna's brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"Well, that's the game, you know, anyway."
+
+"The--GAME?"
+
+"Yes; the 'just being glad' game."
+
+"Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?"
+
+"Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,"
+rejoined Pollyanna. "We've played it always, ever since I was a
+little, little girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played
+it--some of them."
+
+"What is it? I ain't much on games, though."
+
+Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the
+gathering twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
+
+"Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary
+barrel."
+
+"CRUTCHES!"
+
+"Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so;
+but when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any
+dolls come in, but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along
+as they might come in handy for some child, sometime. And that's
+when we began it."
+
+"Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,"
+declared Nancy, almost irritably.
+
+"Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to
+be glad about--no matter what 'twas," rejoined Pollyanna,
+earnestly. "And we began right then--on the crutches."
+
+"Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad
+about--gettin' a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There is--there is," she crowed. "But _I_ couldn't see it,
+either, Nancy, at first," she added, with quick honesty. "Father
+had to tell it to me."
+
+"Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME," almost snapped Nancy.
+
+"Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!" exulted
+Pollyanna, triumphantly. "You see it's just as easy--when you
+know how!"
+
+"Well, of all the queer doin's!" breathed Nancy, regarding
+Pollyanna with almost fearful eyes.
+
+"Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely," maintained Pollyanna
+enthusiastically. "And we've played it ever since. And the harder
+'tis, the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's
+almost too hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there
+isn't anybody but a Ladies' Aid left."
+
+"Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top
+of the house with nothin' in it," growled Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"That was a hard one, at first," she admitted, "specially when I
+was so kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the
+game, anyway, and I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I
+happened to think how I hated to see my freckles in the
+looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out the window, too;
+so then I knew I'd found the things to be glad about. You see,
+when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the
+other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know."
+
+"Humph!" choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
+
+"Most generally it doesn't take so long," sighed Pollyanna; "and
+lots of times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you
+know. I've got so used to playing it. It's a lovely game.
+F-father and I used to like it so much," she faltered. "I
+suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder now, as long as I
+haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it,
+though," she added, as an after-thought.
+
+"My stars and stockings!--HER!" breathed Nancy, behind her teeth.
+Then, aloud, she said doggedly:  "See here, Miss Pollyanna, I
+ain't sayin' that I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that
+I know how, anyway; but I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I
+just will, I will!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug.
+"That'll be splendid! Won't we have fun?"
+
+"Er--maybe," conceded Nancy, in open doubt. "But you mustn't
+count too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but
+I'm a-goin' ter make a most awful old try on this one. You're
+goin' ter have some one ter play it with, anyhow," she finished,
+as they entered the kitchen together.
+
+Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at
+Nancy's suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her
+aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly.
+
+"Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Polly."
+
+"I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send
+you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk."
+
+"But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and
+milk, and Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit."
+
+Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
+
+"Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard
+day, and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your
+clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will
+give you a candle. Be careful how you handle it. Breakfast will
+be at half-past seven. See that you are down to that.
+Good-night."
+
+Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her
+aunt's side and gave her an affectionate hug.
+
+"I've had such a beautiful time, so far," she sighed happily. "I
+know I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I
+should before I came. Good-night," she called cheerfully, as she
+ran from the room.
+
+"Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. "What a
+most extraordinary child!"  Then she frowned. "She's 'glad' I
+punished her, and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going
+to 'love to live' with me! Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss
+Polly again, as she took up her book.
+
+Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl
+sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet:
+
+"I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one
+bit now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find
+anything to be glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in
+the dark--like this. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or
+even a Ladies' Aider, it would be easier!"
+
+Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated
+work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered
+Jerkily:
+
+"If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got
+crutches when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein'
+that rock o' refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
+
+It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day
+after her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so
+she could not see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of
+the morning sky, and she knew that the day promised to be a fair
+one.
+
+The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and
+sweet. Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna
+flew to the window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the
+garden her aunt was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid
+fingers, therefore, she made herself ready to join her.
+
+Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide
+open. Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through
+the front screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
+
+Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush
+when Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just
+to be alive!"
+
+"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as
+erect as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds
+hanging about her neck. "Is this the usual way you say good
+morning?"
+
+The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and
+down.
+
+"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you
+from my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T
+a Ladies' Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you
+looked so good I just had to come down and hug you!"
+
+The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
+frown--with not her usual success.
+
+"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think
+you understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then
+she turned and walked rapidly away.
+
+"Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?" asked Pollyanna,
+interestedly.
+
+The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked
+blurred as if with tears.
+
+"Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener," he answered. Timidly, but
+as if impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking
+hand and let it rest for a moment on her bright hair. "You are so
+like your mother, little Miss! I used ter know her when she was
+even littler than you be. You see, I used ter work in the
+garden--then."
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
+
+"You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a
+little earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me
+about her!" And down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt
+path by the old man's side.
+
+A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen
+flying out the back door.
+
+"Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's," she
+panted, pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back
+to the house; "and other times it means other meals. But it
+always means that you're ter run like time when ye hear it, no
+matter where ye be. If ye don't--well, it'll take somethin'
+smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about in that!" she
+finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo an
+unruly chicken into a coop.
+
+Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then
+Miss Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two
+flies darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
+
+"Nancy, where did those flies come from?"
+
+"I don't know, ma'am. There wasn't one in the kitchen." Nancy had
+been too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the
+afternoon before.
+
+"I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly," observed
+Pollyanna, amiably. "There were lots of them this morning having
+a beautiful time upstairs."
+
+Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to
+carry out the hot muffins she had just brought in.
+
+"Yours!" gasped Miss Polly. "What do you mean? Where did they
+come from?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through
+the windows. I SAW some of them come in."
+
+"You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any
+screens?"
+
+"Why, yes. There weren't any screens there, Aunt Polly."
+
+Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face
+was grave, but very red.
+
+"Nancy," directed her mistress, sharply, "you may set the muffins
+down and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the
+windows. Shut the doors, also. Later, when your morning work is
+done, go through every room with the spatter. See that you make a
+thorough search."
+
+To her niece she said:
+
+"Pollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of
+course, that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that
+you have quite forgotten YOUR duty."
+
+"My--duty?"  Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
+
+"Certainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to
+keep your windows closed till those screens come. Flies,
+Pollyanna, are not only unclean and annoying, but very dangerous
+to health. After breakfast I will give you a little pamphlet on
+this matter to read."
+
+"To read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!"
+
+Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips
+together hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little
+thoughtfully.
+
+"Of course I'm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly," she
+apologized timidly. "I won't raise the windows again."
+
+Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal
+was over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting
+room, took out a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her
+niece's side.
+
+"This is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to
+your room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to
+look over your things."
+
+Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head, many
+times magnified, cried joyously:
+
+"Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!"  The next moment she skipped merrily
+from the room, banging the door behind her.
+
+Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically
+and opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight,
+clattering up the attic stairs.
+
+Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern
+duty in every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's
+room, she was greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
+interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to
+read! Why, I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of
+things on their feet, and--"
+
+"That will do," observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. "Pollyanna,
+you may bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over.
+What are not suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of
+course."
+
+With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and
+turned toward the closet.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid
+did--and THEY said they were shameful," she sighed. "But there
+were mostly things for boys and older folks in the last two or
+three barrels; and--did you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt
+Polly?"
+
+At her aunt's look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself
+at once.
+
+"Why, no, of course you didn't, Aunt Polly!" she hurried on, with
+a hot blush. "I forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But
+you see sometimes I kind of forget that you are rich--up here in
+this room, you know."
+
+Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly, but no words came.
+Pollyanna, plainly unaware that she had said anything in the
+least unpleasant, was hurrying on.
+
+"Well, as I was going to say, you can't tell a thing about
+missionary barrels--except that you won't find in 'em what you
+think you're going to--even when you think you won't. It was the
+barrels every time, too, that were hardest to play the game on,
+for father and--"
+
+Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her
+father to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly,
+and brought out all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
+
+"They aren't nice, at all," she choked, "and they'd been black if
+it hadn't been for the red carpet for the church; but they're all
+I've got."
+
+With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the
+conglomerate garments, so obviously made for anybody but
+Pollyanna. Next she bestowed frowning attention on the patched
+undergarments in the bureau drawers.
+
+"I've got the best ones on," confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. "The
+Ladies' Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs.
+Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they
+had to clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their
+days. But they won't. Mr. White doesn't like the noise. He's got
+nerves, his wife says; but he's got money, too, and they expect
+he'll give a lot toward the carpet--on account of the nerves, you
+know. I should think he'd be glad that if he did have the nerves
+he'd got money, too; shouldn't you?"
+
+Miss Polly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny of the
+undergarments finished, she turned to Pollyanna somewhat
+abruptly.
+
+"You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, fath--I mean, I was taught at home
+some, too."
+
+Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"Very good. In the fall you will enter school here, of course.
+Mr. Hall, the principal, will doubtless settle in which grade you
+belong. Meanwhile, I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half
+an hour each day."
+
+"I love to read; but if you don't want to hear me I'd be just
+glad to read to myself--truly, Aunt Polly. And I wouldn't have to
+half try to be glad, either, for I like best to read to
+myself--on account of the big words, you know."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined Miss Polly, grimly. "Have you studied
+music?"
+
+"Not much. I don't like my music--I like other people's, though.
+I learned to play on the piano a little. Miss Gray--she plays for
+church--she taught me. But I'd just as soon let that go as not,
+Aunt Polly. I'd rather, truly."
+
+"Very likely," observed Aunt Polly, with slightly uplifted
+eyebrows. "Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are
+properly instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew,
+of course."
+
+"Yes, ma'am." Pollyanna sighed. "The Ladies' Aid taught me that.
+But I had an awful time. Mrs. Jones didn't believe in holding
+your needle like the rest of 'em did on buttonholing, and Mrs.
+White thought backstitching ought to be taught you before hemming
+(or else the other way), and Mrs. Harriman didn't believe in
+putting you on patchwork ever, at all."
+
+"Well, there will be no difficulty of that kind any longer,
+Pollyanna. I shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not
+know how to cook, I presume."
+
+Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
+
+"They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I
+hadn't got far. They were more divided up on that than they were
+on the sewing. They were GOING to begin on bread; but there
+wasn't two of 'em that made it alike, so after arguing it all one
+sewing-meeting, they decided to take turns at me one forenoon a
+week--in their own kitchens, you know. I'd only learned chocolate
+fudge and fig cake, though, when--when I had to stop."  Her voice
+broke.
+
+"Chocolate fudge and fig cake, indeed!" scorned Miss Polly. "I
+think we can remedy that very soon." She paused in thought for a
+minute, then went on slowly:  "At nine o'clock every morning you
+will read aloud one half-hour to me. Before that you will use the
+time to put this room in order. Wednesday and Saturday forenoons,
+after half-past nine, you will spend with Nancy in the kitchen,
+learning to cook. Other mornings you will sew with me. That will
+leave the afternoons for your music. I shall, of course, procure
+a teacher at once for you," she finished decisively, as she arose
+from her chair.
+
+Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven't left me any time at
+all just to--to live."
+
+"To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren't living all
+the time!"
+
+"Oh, of course I'd be BREATHING all the time I was doing those
+things, Aunt Polly, but I wouldn't be living. You breathe all the
+time you're asleep, but you aren't living. I mean living--doing
+the things you want to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself,
+of course), climbing hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and
+Nancy, and finding out all about the houses and the people and
+everything everywhere all through the perfectly lovely streets I
+came through yesterday. That's what I call living, Aunt Polly.
+Just breathing isn't living!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.
+
+"Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be
+allowed a proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it
+seems to me if I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have
+proper care and instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours
+by seeing that that care and instruction are not ungratefully
+wasted."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I
+LOVE YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!"
+
+"Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful," vouchsafed
+Miss Polly, as she turned toward the door.
+
+She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice
+called after her:
+
+"Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you
+wanted to--to give away."
+
+Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
+Pollyanna's ears.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into
+town at half-past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is
+fit for my niece to wear. Certainly I should be very far from
+doing my duty by you if I should let you appear out in any one of
+them."
+
+Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
+word--duty.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please," she called wistfully, "isn't there ANY way
+you can be glad about all that--duty business?"
+
+"What?"  Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly,
+with very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the
+stairs. "Don't be impertinent, Pollyanna!"
+
+In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one
+of the straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one
+endless round of duty.
+
+"I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that," she
+sighed. "I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something
+to be glad about in all that duty business."
+
+For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes
+fixed on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly,
+she rose and began to put away the dresses.
+
+"There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see," she
+said aloud; "unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!"
+Whereupon she laughed suddenly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
+
+At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece
+to the four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about
+half a mile from the homestead.
+
+Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less
+of an exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out
+of it with the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at
+finding oneself at last on solid earth after a perilous walk
+across the very thin crust of a volcano. The various clerks who
+had waited upon the pair came out of it with very red faces, and
+enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to keep their friends in
+gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna herself came
+out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as she
+expressed it to one of the clerks: "When you haven't had anybody
+but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS
+perfectly lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are
+brand-new, and that don't have to be tucked up or let down
+because they don't fit!"
+
+The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came
+supper and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and
+another with Nancy on the back porch, after the dishes were done,
+and while Aunt Polly paid a visit to a neighbor.
+
+Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made
+her very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little
+farm six miles away at "The Corners," where lived her own dear
+mother, and her equally dear brother and sisters. She promised,
+too, that sometime, if Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should
+be taken to see them.
+
+"And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,"
+sighed Nancy. "They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and
+'Estelle.' I--I just hate 'Nancy'!"
+
+"Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?"
+
+"Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the
+first baby, and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with
+the pretty names in 'em, then."
+
+"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.
+
+"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as
+well," retorted Nancy, "and it would be a heap happier for me. I
+think THAT name's just grand!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow," she chuckled, "you can be glad it isn't
+'Hephzibah.'"
+
+"Hephzibah!"
+
+"Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and
+she doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she
+feels just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!'
+And she doesn't like to be hurrahed at."
+
+Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
+
+"Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't
+never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and
+giggle. My, I guess I AM glad--" She stopped short and turned
+amazed eyes on the little girl. "Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you
+mean--was you playin' that 'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I
+wa'n't named Hephzibah'?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
+
+"Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of
+the times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you
+DO, lots of times; you get so used to it--looking for something
+to be glad about, you know. And most generally there is something
+about everything that you can be glad about, if you keep hunting
+long enough to find it."
+
+"Well, m-maybe," granted Nancy, with open doubt.
+
+
+At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not
+yet come, and the close little room was like an oven. With
+longing eyes Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but
+she did not raise them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly,
+said her prayers, blew out her candle and climbed into bed.
+
+Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to
+side of the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to
+her that it must have been hours before she finally slipped out
+of bed, felt her way across the room and opened her door.
+
+Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the
+moon flung a path of silver half-way across the floor from the
+east dormer window. With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome
+darkness to the right and to the left, Pollyanna drew a quick
+breath and pattered straight into that silvery path, and on to
+the window.
+
+She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but
+it did not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of
+fairy-like beauty, and there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air
+that would feel so good to hot cheeks and hands!
+
+As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something
+else: she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat
+tin roof of Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere.
+The sight filled her with longing. If only, now, she were out
+there!
+
+Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her
+hot little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and
+them lay a horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel
+one's way with outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her,
+out on the sun-parlor roof, were the moonlight and the cool,
+sweet night air.
+
+If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors.
+Joel Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD
+to sleep out of doors.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic
+window a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had
+said that they contained the winter clothing, put away for the
+summer. A little fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these
+bags, selected a nice fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's
+sealskin coat) for a bed; and a thinner one to be doubled up for
+a pillow, and still another (which was so thin it seemed almost
+empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna in high glee
+pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash, stuffed
+her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down after
+it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
+forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried
+things.
+
+How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down
+with delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing
+air. The tin roof under her feet crackled with little resounding
+snaps that Pollyanna rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or
+three times back and forth from end to end--it gave her such a
+pleasant sensation of airy space after her hot little room; and
+the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear of falling
+off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on
+the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
+other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
+
+"I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come," she murmured,
+blinking up at the stars; "else I couldn't have had this!"
+
+Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
+herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face
+white and frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in
+a shaking voice to Timothy:
+
+"Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is
+on the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the
+rose-trellis or somewhere, and of course he can get right into
+the house through the east window in the attic. I have locked the
+attic door down here--but hurry, quick!"
+
+Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was
+startled by a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations.
+She opened her eyes to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near
+her, Old Tom just getting through the window, and her aunt
+peering out at her from behind him.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean?" cried Aunt Polly then.
+
+Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
+
+"Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!" she stammered. "Don't look so scared!
+It isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel
+Hartley. It's only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the
+window, Aunt Polly, so the flies couldn't carry those germ-things
+in."
+
+Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with
+almost equal precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and
+followed his son. Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were
+gone; then she said sternly:
+
+"Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of
+all the extraordinary children!" she ejaculated a little later,
+as, with Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she
+turned back into the attic.
+
+To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool
+breath of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only
+drew a long quivering sigh.
+
+At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
+
+"For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed
+with me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I
+consider it my duty to keep you where I know where you are."
+
+Pollyanna drew in her breath.
+
+"With you?--in your bed?" she cried rapturously. "Oh, Aunt Polly,
+Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted
+to sleep with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me,
+you know; not a Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am
+glad now those screens didn't come! Wouldn't you be?"
+
+There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly,
+to tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third
+time since Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing
+Pollyanna--and for the third time she was being confronted with
+the amazing fact that her punishment was being taken as a special
+reward of merit. No wonder Miss Polly was feeling curiously
+helpless.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT
+
+It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled
+into something like order--though not exactly the order that Miss
+Polly had at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practised, read
+aloud, and studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she
+did not give to any of these things quite so much time as had
+first been planned. She had more time, also, to "just live," as
+she expressed it, for almost all of every afternoon from two
+until six o'clock was hers to do with as she liked--provided she
+did not "like" to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt
+Polly.
+
+It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was
+given to the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work--or as a
+relief to Aunt Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first
+July days passed, Miss Polly found occasion many times to
+ejaculate "What an extraordinary child!" and certainly the
+reading and sewing lessons found her at their conclusion each day
+somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
+
+Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor
+exhausted. Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed,
+red-letter days to her.
+
+There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the
+Harrington homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself
+was on the outskirts of the village, and though there were other
+houses not far away, they did not chance to contain any boys or
+girls near Pollyanna's age. This, however, did not seem to
+disturb Pollyanna in the least.
+
+"Oh, no, I don't mind it at all," she explained to Nancy. "I'm
+happy just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and
+watch the people. I just love people. Don't you, Nancy?"
+
+"Well, I can't say I do--all of 'em," retorted Nancy, tersely.
+
+Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for "an
+errand to run," so that she might be off for a walk in one
+direction or another; and it was on these walks that frequently
+she met the Man. To herself Pollyanna always called him "the
+Man," no matter if she met a dozen other men the same day.
+
+The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hat--two
+things that the "just men" never wore. His face was clean shaven
+and rather pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was
+somewhat gray. He walked erect, and rather rapidly, and he was
+always alone, which made Pollyanna vaguely sorry for him. Perhaps
+it was because of this that she one day spoke to him.
+
+"How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?" she called cheerily,
+as she approached him.
+
+The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped
+uncertainly.
+
+"Did you speak--to me?" he asked in a sharp voice.
+
+"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?"
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" he grunted; and strode on again.
+
+Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
+
+The next day she saw him again.
+
+" 'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice," she
+called out cheerfully.
+
+"Eh? Oh! Humph!" grunted the man as before; and once again
+Pollyanna laughed happily.
+
+When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same
+manner, the man stopped abruptly.
+
+"See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me
+every day?"
+
+"I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm
+so glad you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your
+name yet."
+
+"Well, of all the--" The man did not finish his sentence, but
+strode on faster than ever.
+
+Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her
+usually smiling lips.
+
+"Maybe he didn't understand--but that was only half an
+introduction. I don't know HIS name, yet," she murmured, as she
+proceeded on her way.
+
+Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day.
+Miss Polly Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a
+week. She said she thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs.
+Snow was poor, sick, and a member of her church--it was the duty
+of all the church members to look out for her, of course. Miss
+Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually on Thursday
+afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy. To-day Pollyanna
+had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her
+in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
+
+"And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Nancy had declared
+in private afterwards to Pollyanna; "though it's a shame ter be
+tuckin' the job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!"
+
+"But I'd love to do it, Nancy."
+
+"Well, you won't--after you've done it once," predicted Nancy,
+sourly.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there
+wouldn't a soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's that
+cantankerous. All is, I pity her daughter what HAS ter take care
+of her."
+
+"But, why, Nancy?"
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Well, in plain words, it's just that nothin' what ever has
+happened, has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days
+of the week ain't run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound
+ter say she wished 'twas Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're
+pretty sure ter hear she wanted chicken--but if you DID bring her
+chicken, she'd be jest hankerin' for lamb broth!"
+
+"Why, what a funny woman," laughed Pollyanna. "I think I shall
+like to go to see her. She must be so surprising and--and
+different. I love DIFFERENT folks."
+
+"Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the
+sake of the rest of us!"  Nancy had finished grimly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day as she turned in
+at the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite
+sparkling, indeed, at the prospect of meeting this "different"
+Mrs. Snow.
+
+A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the
+door.
+
+"How do you do?" began Pollyanna politely. "I'm from Miss Polly
+Harrington, and I'd like to see Mrs. Snow, please."
+
+"Well, if you would, you're the first one that ever 'liked' to
+see her," muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did
+not hear this. The girl had turned and was leading the way
+through the hall to a door at the end of it.
+
+In the sick-room, after the girl had ushered her in and closed
+the door, Pollyanna blinked a little before she could accustom
+her eyes to the gloom. Then she saw, dimly outlined, a woman
+half-sitting up in the bed across the room. Pollyanna advanced at
+once.
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are
+comfortable to-day, and she's sent you some calf's-foot jelly."
+
+"Dear me! jelly?" murmured a fretful voice,
+
+"Of course I'm very much obliged, but I was hoping 'twould be
+lamb broth to-day."
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little.
+
+"Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you
+jelly," she said.
+
+"What?"  The sick woman turned sharply.
+
+"Why, nothing, much," apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; "and of
+course it doesn't really make any difference. It's only that
+Nancy said it was chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and
+lamb broth when we brought chicken--but maybe 'twas the other
+way, and Nancy forgot."
+
+The sick woman pulled herself up till she sat erect in the bed--a
+most unusual thing for her to do, though Pollyanna did not know
+this.
+
+"Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?" she demanded.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my name, Mrs. Snow--and I'm so glad 'tisn't, too!
+That would be worse than 'Hephzibah,' wouldn't it? I'm Pollyanna
+Whittier, Miss Polly Harrington's niece, and I've come to live
+with her. That's why I'm here with the jelly this morning."
+
+All through the first part of this sentence, the sick woman had
+sat interestedly erect; but at the reference to the jelly she
+fell back on her pillow listlessly.
+
+"Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my
+appetite isn't very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb--"
+She stopped suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of
+subject. "I never slept a wink last night--not a wink!"
+
+"O dear, I wish _I_ didn't," sighed Pollyanna, placing the jelly
+on the little stand and seating herself comfortably in the
+nearest chair. "You lose such a lot of time just sleeping! Don't
+you think so?"
+
+"Lose time--sleeping!" exclaimed the sick woman.
+
+"Yes, when you might be just living, you know. It seems such a
+pity we can't live nights, too."
+
+Once again the woman pulled herself erect in her bed.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the amazing young one!" she cried. "Here! do
+you go to that window and pull up the curtain," she directed. "I
+should like to know what you look like!"
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet, but she laughed a little ruefully.
+
+"O dear! then you'll see my freckles, won't you?" she sighed, as
+she went to the window; "--and just when I was being so glad it
+was dark and you couldn't see 'em. There! Now you can--oh!" she
+broke off excitedly, as she turned back to the bed; "I'm so glad
+you wanted to see me, because now I can see you! They didn't tell
+me you were so pretty!"
+
+"Me!--pretty!" scoffed the woman, bitterly.
+
+"Why, yes. Didn't you know it?" cried Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, no, I didn't," retorted Mrs. Snow, dryly. Mrs. Snow had
+lived forty years, and for fifteen of those years she had been
+too busy wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy
+things as they were.
+
+"Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark,
+too, and curly," cooed Pollyanna. "I love black curls. (That's
+one of the things I'm going to have when I get to Heaven.) And
+you've got two little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. Snow,
+you ARE pretty! I should think you'd know it when you looked at
+yourself in the glass."
+
+"The glass!" snapped the sick woman, falling back on her pillow.
+"Yes, well, I hain't done much prinkin' before the mirror these
+days--and you wouldn't, if you was flat on your back as I am!"
+
+"Why, no, of course not," agreed Pollyanna, sympathetically. "But
+wait--just let me show you," she exclaimed, skipping over to the
+bureau and picking up a small hand-glass.
+
+On the way back to the bed she stopped, eyeing the sick woman
+with a critical gaze.
+
+"I reckon maybe, if you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair
+just a little before I let you see it," she proposed. "May I fix
+your hair, please?"
+
+"Why, I--suppose so, if you want to," permitted Mrs. Snow,
+grudgingly; "but 'twon't stay, you know."
+
+"Oh, thank you. I love to fix people's hair," exulted Pollyanna,
+carefully laying down the hand-glass and reaching for a comb. "I
+sha'n't do much to-day, of course--I'm in such a hurry for you to
+see how pretty you are; but some day I'm going to take it all
+down and have a perfectly lovely time with it," she cried,
+touching with soft fingers the waving hair above the sick woman's
+forehead.
+
+For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly, deftly, combing a
+refractory curl into fluffiness, perking up a drooping ruffle at
+the neck, or shaking a pillow into plumpness so that the head
+might have a better pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frowning
+prodigiously, and openly scoffing at the whole procedure, was, in
+spite of herself, beginning to tingle with a feeling perilously
+near to excitement.
+
+"There!" panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase
+near by and tucking it into the dark hair where it would give the
+best effect. "Now I reckon we're ready to be looked at!" And she
+held out the mirror in triumph.
+
+"Humph!" grunted the sick woman, eyeing her reflection severely.
+"I like red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it'll fade,
+anyhow, before night, so what's the difference!"
+
+"But I should think you'd be glad they did fade," laughed
+Pollyanna, "'cause then you can have the fun of getting some
+more. I just love your hair fluffed out like that," she finished
+with a satisfied gaze. "Don't you?"
+
+"Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth
+on the pillow as I do."
+
+"Of course not--and I'm glad, too," nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
+"because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be
+glad it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than
+yellow hair like mine does."
+
+"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray
+too soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still
+held the mirror before her face.
+
+"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,"
+sighed Pollyanna.
+
+Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
+
+"Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad
+for black hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day
+as I do!"
+
+Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
+
+"Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?" she
+mused aloud.
+
+"Do what?"
+
+"Be glad about things."
+
+"Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days?
+Well, I should say it would," retorted Mrs. Snow. "If you don't
+think so, just tell me something to be glad about; that's all!"
+
+To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet
+and clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now,
+but I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next
+time I come I can tell it to you. Good-by. I've had a lovely
+time! Good-by," she called again, as she tripped through the
+doorway.
+
+"Well, I never! Now, what does she mean by that?" ejaculated Mrs.
+Snow, staring after her visitor. By and by she turned her head
+and picked up the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically.
+
+"That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake," she
+muttered under her breath. "I declare, I didn't know it could
+look so pretty. But then, what's the use?" she sighed, dropping
+the little glass into the bedclothes, and rolling her head on the
+pillow fretfully.
+
+A little later, when Milly, Mrs. Snow's daughter, came in, the
+mirror still lay among the bedclothes it had been carefully
+hidden from sight.
+
+"Why, mother--the curtain is up!" cried Milly, dividing her
+amazed stare between the window and the pink in her mother's
+hair.
+
+"Well, what if it is?" snapped the sick woman. "I needn't stay in
+the dark all my life, if I am sick, need I?"
+
+"Why, n-no, of course not," rejoined Milly, in hasty
+conciliation, as she reached for the medicine bottle. "It's
+only--well, you know very well that I've tried to get you to have
+a lighter room for ages and you wouldn't."
+
+There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was picking at the lace on
+her nightgown. At last she spoke fretfully.
+
+"I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress--instead
+of lamb broth, for a change!"
+
+"Why--mother!"
+
+No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the
+drawer behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that
+Milly for months had been vainly urging her mother to wear.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN
+
+It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him,
+however, with a bright smile.
+
+"It isn't so nice to-day, is it?" she called blithesomely. "I'm
+glad it doesn't rain always, anyhow!"
+
+The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head.
+Pollyanna decided that of course he did not hear her. The next
+time, therefore (which happened to be the following day), she
+spoke up louder. She thought it particularly necessary to do
+this, anyway, for the Man was striding along, his hands behind
+his back, and his eyes on the ground--which seemed, to Pollyanna,
+preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the
+freshly-washed morning air:  Pollyanna, as a special treat, was
+on a morning errand to-day.
+
+"How do you do?" she chirped. "I'm so glad it isn't yesterday,
+aren't you?"
+
+The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.
+
+"See here, little girl, we might just as well settle this thing
+right now, once for all," he began testily. "I've got something
+besides the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun
+shines or not." Pollyanna beamed joyously.
+
+"No, sir; I thought you didn't. That's why I told you."
+
+"Yes; well--Eh? What?" he broke off sharply, in sudden
+understanding of her words.
+
+"I say, that's why I told you--so you would notice it, you
+know--that the sun shines, and all that. I knew you'd be glad it
+did if you only stopped to think of it--and you didn't look a bit
+as if you WERE thinking of it!"
+
+"Well, of all the--" ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent
+gesture. He started forward again, but after the second step he
+turned back, still frowning.
+
+"See here, why don't you find some one your own age to talk to?"
+
+"I'd like to, sir, but there aren't any 'round here, Nancy says.
+Still, I don't mind so very much. I like old folks just as well,
+maybe better, sometimes--being used to the Ladies' Aid, so."
+
+"Humph! The Ladies' Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?"
+The man's lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above
+them was still trying to hold them grimly stern.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Oh, no, sir. You don't look a mite like a Ladies' Aider--not but
+that you're just as good, of course--maybe better," she added in
+hurried politeness. "You see, I'm sure you're much nicer than you
+look!"
+
+The man made a queer noise in his throat.
+
+"Well, of all the--" he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode
+on as before.
+
+The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing
+straight into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his
+face look really pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
+
+"Good afternoon," he greeted her a little stiffly. "Perhaps I'd
+better say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day."
+
+"But you don't have to tell me," nodded Pollyanna, brightly. "I
+KNEW you knew it just as soon as I saw you."
+
+"Oh, you did, did you?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile."
+
+"Humph!" grunted the man, as he passed on.
+
+The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he
+spoke first, though usually he said little but "good afternoon."
+Even that, however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to
+be with Pollyanna one day when the greeting was given.
+
+"Sakes alive, Miss Pollyanna," she gasped, "did that man SPEAK TO
+YOU?"
+
+"Why, yes, he always does--now," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+" 'He always does'! Goodness! Do you know who--he--is?" demanded
+Nancy.
+
+Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
+
+"I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of
+the introducing, but he didn't."
+
+Nancy's eyes widened.
+
+"But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I
+guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that.
+He's John Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on
+Pendleton Hill. He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for
+him--comes down ter the hotel for his meals three times a day. I
+know Sally Miner, who waits on him, and she says he hardly opens
+his head enough ter tell what he wants ter eat. She has ter guess
+it more'n half the time--only it'll be somethin' CHEAP! She knows
+that without no tellin'."
+
+Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor.
+Father and I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls
+most generally. We used to say how glad we were we liked
+beans--that is, we said it specially when we were looking at the
+roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty cents. Does Mr.
+Pendleton like beans?"
+
+"Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he
+ain't poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his
+father. There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat
+dollar bills, if he wanted to--and not know it."
+
+Pollyanna giggled.
+
+"As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy,
+when they come to try to chew 'em!"
+
+"Ho! I mean he's rich enough ter do it," shrugged Nancy. "He
+ain't spendin' his money, that's all. He's a-savin' of it."
+
+"Oh, for the heathen," surmised Pollyanna. "How perfectly
+splendid! That's denying yourself and taking up your cross. I
+know; father told me."
+
+Nancy's lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all
+ready to come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly
+trustful face, saw something that prevented the words being
+spoken.
+
+"Humph!" she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she
+went on:  "But, say, it is queer, his speakin' to you, honestly,
+Miss Pollyanna. He don't speak ter no one; and he lives all alone
+in a great big lovely house all full of jest grand things, they
+say. Some says he's crazy, and some jest cross; and some says
+he's got a skeleton in his closet."
+
+"Oh, Nancy!" shuddered Pollyanna. "How can he keep such a
+dreadful thing? I should think he'd throw it away!"
+
+Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally
+instead of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she
+refrained from correcting the mistake.
+
+"And EVERYBODY says he's mysterious," she went on. "Some years he
+jest travels, week in and week out, and it's always in heathen
+countries--Egypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know."
+
+"Oh, a missionary," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy laughed oddly.
+
+"Well, I didn't say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he
+writes books--queer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack
+he's found in them heathen countries. But he don't never seem ter
+want ter spend no money here--leastways, not for jest livin'."
+
+"Of course not--if he's saving it for the heathen," declared
+Pollyanna. "But he is a funny man, and he's different, too, just
+like Mrs. Snow, only he's a different different."
+
+"Well, I guess he is--rather," chuckled Nancy.
+
+"I'm gladder'n ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me," sighed
+Pollyanna contentedly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
+
+The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that
+lady, as at first, in a darkened room.
+
+"It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother," announced
+Milly, in a tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with
+the invalid.
+
+"Oh, it's you, is it?" asked a fretful voice from the bed. "I
+remember you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you
+once. I wish you had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday."
+
+"Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday
+than to-day is, then," laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into
+the room, and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. "My!
+but aren't you dark here, though? I can't see you a bit," she
+cried, unhesitatingly crossing to the window and pulling up the
+shade. "I want to see if you've fixed your hair like I did--oh,
+you haven't! But, never mind; I'm glad you haven't, after all,
+'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later. But now I want you to
+see what I've brought you."
+
+The woman stirred restlessly.
+
+"Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it
+tastes," she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket.
+"Well, what is it?"
+
+"Guess! What do you want?"  Pollyanna had skipped back to the
+basket. Her face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
+
+"Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of," she sighed. "After
+all, they all taste alike!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?"
+
+The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had
+so long been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to
+state off-hand what she DID want seemed impossible--until she
+knew what she had. Obviously, however, she must say something.
+This extraordinary child was waiting.
+
+"Well, of course, there's lamb broth--"
+
+"I've got it!" crowed Pollyanna.
+
+"But that's what I DIDN'T want," sighed the sick woman, sure now
+of what her stomach craved. "It was chicken I wanted."
+
+"Oh, I've got that, too," chuckled Pollyanna.
+
+The woman turned in amazement.
+
+"Both of them?" she demanded.
+
+"Yes--and calf's-foot jelly," triumphed Pollyanna. "I was just
+bound you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I
+fixed it. Oh, of course, there's only a little of each--but
+there's some of all of 'em! I'm so glad you did want chicken,"
+she went on contentedly, as she lifted the three little bowls
+from her basket. "You see, I got to thinking on the way
+here--what if you should say tripe, or onions, or something like
+that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a shame--when I'd
+tried so hard?" she laughed merrily.
+
+There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally
+to find something she had lost.
+
+"There! I'm to leave them all," announced Pollyanna, as she
+arranged the three bowls in a row on the table. "Like enough
+it'll be lamb broth you want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?"
+she finished in polite inquiry.
+
+"Very poorly, thank you," murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into
+her usual listless attitude. "I lost my nap this morning. Nellie
+Higgins next door has begun music lessons, and her practising
+drives me nearly wild. She was at it all the morning--every
+minute! I'm sure, I don't know what I shall do!"
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it once--one of my Ladies'
+Aiders, you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time,
+so she couldn't thrash 'round. She said 'twould have been easier
+if she could have. Can you?"
+
+"Can I--what?"
+
+"Thrash 'round--move, you know, so as to change your position
+when the music gets too hard to stand."
+
+Mrs. Snow stared a little.
+
+"Why, of course I can move--anywhere--in bed," she rejoined a
+little irritably.
+
+"Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, can't you?" nodded
+Pollyanna. "Mrs. White couldn't. You can't thrash when you have
+rheumatic fever--though you want to something awful, Mrs. White
+says. She told me afterwards she reckoned she'd have gone raving
+crazy if it hadn't been for Mr. White's sister's ears--being
+deaf, so."
+
+"Sister's--EARS! What do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, I reckon I didn't tell it all, and I forgot you didn't
+know Mrs. White. You see, Miss White was deaf--awfully deaf; and
+she came to visit 'em and to help take care of Mrs. White and the
+house. Well, they had such an awful time making her understand
+ANYTHING, that after that, every time the piano commenced to play
+across the street, Mrs. White felt so glad she COULD hear it,
+that she didn't mind so much that she DID hear it, 'cause she
+couldn't help thinking how awful 'twould be if she was deaf and
+couldn't hear anything, like her husband's sister. You see, she
+was playing the game, too. I'd told her about it."
+
+"The--game?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"There! I 'most forgot; but I've thought it up, Mrs. Snow--what
+you can be glad about."
+
+"GLAD about! What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I told you I would. Don't you remember? You asked me to
+tell you something to be glad about--glad, you know, even though
+you did have to lie here abed all day."
+
+"Oh!" scoffed the woman. "THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I
+didn't suppose you were in earnest any more than I was."
+
+"Oh, yes, I was," nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; "and I found
+it, too. But 'TWAS hard. It's all the more fun, though, always,
+when 'tis hard. And I will own up, honest to true, that I
+couldn't think of anything for a while. Then I got it."
+
+"Did you, really? Well, what is it?"  Mrs. Snow's voice was
+sarcastically polite.
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"I thought--how glad you could be--that other folks weren't like
+you--all sick in bed like this, you know," she announced
+impressively. Mrs. Snow stared. Her eyes were angry.
+
+"Well, really!" she ejaculated then, in not quite an agreeable
+tone of voice.
+
+"And now I'll tell you the game," proposed Pollyanna, blithely
+confident. "It'll be just lovely for you to play--it'll be so
+hard. And there's so much more fun when it is hard! You see, it's
+like this." And she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the
+crutches, and the doll that did not come.
+
+The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
+
+"Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna," she said with dreary
+listlessness. "She telephoned down to the Harlows' across the
+way. She says you're to hurry--that you've got some practising to
+make up before dark."
+
+Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
+
+"All right," she sighed. "I'll hurry."  Suddenly she laughed. "I
+suppose I ought to be glad I've got legs to hurry with, hadn't I,
+Mrs. Snow?"
+
+There was no answer. Mrs. Snow's eyes were closed. But Milly,
+whose eyes were wide open with surprise, saw that there were
+tears on the wasted cheeks.
+
+"Good-by," flung Pollyanna over her shoulder, as she reached the
+door. "I'm awfully sorry about the hair--I wanted to do it. But
+maybe I can next time!"
+
+
+One by one the July days passed. To Pollyanna, they were happy
+days, indeed. She often told her aunt, joyously, how very happy
+they were. Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are
+happy; but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I
+should have failed signally in my duty."
+
+Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
+proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss
+Polly; but one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.
+
+"Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that
+they should be just happy days?" she asked wistfully.
+
+"That is what I mean, Pollyanna."
+
+"They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?"
+
+"Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to
+show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!"
+
+"Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?" questioned Pollyanna,
+a little anxiously.
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now,
+you won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Game? What game?"
+
+"Why, that father--" Pollyanna clapped her hand to her lips.
+"N-nothing," she stammered. Miss Polly frowned.
+
+"That will do for this morning, Pollyanna," she said tersely. And
+the sewing lesson was over.
+
+It was that afternoon that Pollyanna, coming down from her attic
+room, met her aunt on the stairway.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely!" she cried. "You were
+coming up to see me! Come right in. I love company," she
+finished, scampering up the stairs and throwing her door wide
+open.
+
+Now Miss Polly had not been intending to call on her niece. She
+had been planning to look for a certain white wool shawl in the
+cedar chest near the east window. But to her unbounded surprise
+now, she found herself, not in the main attic before the cedar
+chest, but in Pollyanna's little room sitting in one of the
+straight-backed chairs--so many, many times since Pollyanna came,
+Miss Polly had found herself like this, doing some utterly
+unexpected, surprising thing, quite unlike the thing she had set
+out to do!
+
+"I love company," said Pollyanna, again, flitting about as if she
+were dispensing the hospitality of a palace; "specially since
+I've had this room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a
+room, always, but 'twas a hired room, and hired rooms aren't half
+as nice as owned ones, are they? And of course I do own this one,
+don't I?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna," murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering
+why she did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
+
+"And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasn't got
+the carpets and curtains and pictures that I'd been want--" With
+a painful blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an
+entirely different sentence when her aunt interrupted her
+sharply.
+
+"What's that, Pollyanna?"
+
+"N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didn't mean to say it."
+
+"Probably not," returned Miss Polly, coldly; "but you did say it,
+so suppose we have the rest of it."
+
+"But it wasn't anything only that I'd been kind of planning on
+pretty carpets and lace curtains and things, you know. But, of
+course--"
+
+"PLANNING on them!" interrupted Miss Polly, sharply.
+
+Pollyanna blushed still more painfully.
+
+"I ought not to have, of course, Aunt Polly," she apologized. "It
+was only because I'd always wanted them and hadn't had them, I
+suppose. Oh, we'd had two rugs in the barrels, but they were
+little, you know, and one had ink spots, and the other holes; and
+there never were only those two pictures; the one fath--I mean
+the good one we sold, and the bad one that broke. Of course if it
+hadn't been for all that I shouldn't have wanted them, so--pretty
+things, I mean; and I shouldn't have got to planning all through
+the hall that first day how pretty mine would be here, and--and
+But, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasn't but just a minute--I mean, a
+few minutes--before I was being glad that the bureau DIDN'T have
+a looking-glass, because it didn't show my freckles; and there
+couldn't be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and
+you've been so good to me, that--"
+
+Miss Polly rose suddenly to her feet. Her face was very red.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," she said stiffly.
+
+"You have said quite enough, I'm sure."  The next minute she had
+swept down the stairs--and not until she reached the first floor
+did it suddenly occur to her that she had gone up into the attic
+to find a white wool shawl in the cedar chest near the east
+window.
+
+Less than twenty-four hours later, Miss Polly said to Nancy,
+crisply:
+
+"Nancy, you may move Miss Pollyanna's things down-stairs this
+morning to the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my
+niece sleep there for the present."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Nancy aloud.
+
+"O glory!" said Nancy to herself.
+
+To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
+
+"And won't ye jest be listenin' ter this, Miss Pollyanna. You're
+ter sleep down-stairs in the room straight under this. You
+are--you are!"
+
+Pollyanna actually grew white.
+
+"You mean--why, Nancy, not really--really and truly?"
+
+"I guess you'll think it's really and truly," prophesied Nancy,
+exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of
+dresses she had taken from the closet. "I'm told ter take down
+yer things, and I'm goin' ter take 'em, too, 'fore she gets a
+chance ter change her mind."
+
+Pollyanna did not stop to hear the end of this sentence. At the
+imminent risk of being dashed headlong, she was flying
+down-stairs, two steps at a time.
+
+Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached
+her goal--Aunt Polly.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that
+room's got EVERYTHING--the carpet and curtains and three
+pictures, besides the one outdoors, too, 'cause the windows look
+the same way. Oh, Aunt Polly!"
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified that you like the change,
+of course; but if you think so much of all those things, I trust
+you will take proper care of them; that's all. Pollyanna, please
+pick up that chair; and you have banged two doors in the last
+half-minute." Miss Polly spoke sternly, all the more sternly
+because, for some inexplicable reason, she felt inclined to
+cry--and Miss Polly was not used to feeling inclined to cry.
+
+Pollyanna picked up the chair.
+
+"Yes'm; I know I banged 'em--those doors," she admitted
+cheerfully. "You see I'd just found out about the room, and I
+reckon you'd have banged doors if--" Pollyanna stopped short and
+eyed her aunt with new interest. "Aunt Polly, DID you ever bang
+doors?"
+
+"I hope--not, Pollyanna!"  Miss Polly's voice was properly
+shocked.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame!"  Pollyanna's face expressed only
+concerned sympathy.
+
+"A shame!" repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
+
+"Why, yes. You see, if you'd felt like banging doors you'd have
+banged 'em, of course; and if you didn't, that must have meant
+that you weren't ever glad over anything--or you would have
+banged 'em. You couldn't have helped it. And I'm so sorry you
+weren't ever glad over anything!"
+
+"PollyANna!" gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only
+the distant bang of the attic-stairway door answered for her.
+Pollyanna had gone to help Nancy bring down "her things."
+
+Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;--but
+then, of course she HAD been glad--over some things!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY
+
+August came. August brought several surprises and some
+changes--none of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy.
+Nancy, since Pollyanna's arrival, had come to look for surprises
+and changes.
+
+First there was the kitten.
+
+Pollyanna found the kitten mewing pitifully some distance down
+the road. When systematic questioning of the neighbors failed to
+find any one who claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once,
+as a matter of course.
+
+"And I was glad I didn't find any one who owned it, too," she
+told her aunt in happy confidence; " 'cause I wanted to bring it
+home all the time. I love kitties. I knew you'd be glad to let it
+live here."
+
+Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected
+misery in Pollyanna's arms, and shivered:  Miss Polly did not
+care for cats--not even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
+
+"Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And it's sick, I'm
+sure, and all mangy and fleay."
+
+"I know it, poor little thing," crooned Pollyanna, tenderly,
+looking into the little creature's frightened eyes. "And it's all
+trembly, too, it's so scared. You see it doesn't know, yet, that
+we're going to keep it, of course."
+
+"No--nor anybody else," retorted Miss Polly, with meaning
+emphasis.
+
+"Oh, yes, they do," nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding
+her aunt's words. "I told everybody we should keep it, if I
+didn't find where it belonged. I knew you'd be glad to have
+it--poor little lonesome thing!"
+
+Miss Polly opened her lips and tried to speak; but in vain. The
+curious helpless feeling that had been hers so often since
+Pollyanna's arrival, had her now fast in its grip.
+
+"Of course I knew," hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, "that you
+wouldn't let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home
+when you'd just taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she
+asked if you'd let me keep it. Why, I had the Ladies' Aid, you
+know, and kitty didn't have anybody. I knew you'd feel that way,"
+she nodded happily, as she ran from the room.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Miss Polly. "I don't--"
+But Pollyanna was already halfway to the kitchen, calling:
+
+"Nancy, Nancy, just see this dear little kitty that Aunt Polly is
+going to bring up along with me!"  And Aunt Polly, in the sitting
+room--who abhorred cats--fell back in her chair with a gasp of
+dismay, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn,
+perhaps, than was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her
+dumfounded amazement, found herself figuring as a kind protector
+and an angel of mercy--a role that Pollyanna so unhesitatingly
+thrust upon her as a matter of course, that the woman--who
+abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if possible--found
+herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
+
+When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a
+small, ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection
+for him, Miss Polly did have something to say. It happened after
+this wise.
+
+On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking
+calf's-foot jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna
+were the best of friends now. Their friendship had started from
+the third visit Pollyanna had made, the one after she had told
+Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was playing the game
+now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it very
+well--she had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was
+not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyanna's
+cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was
+learning fast. To-day, even, to Pollyanna's huge delight, she had
+said that she was glad Pollyanna brought calf's-foot jelly,
+because that was just what she had been wanting--she did not know
+that Milly, at the front door, had told Pollyanna that the
+minister's wife had already that day sent over a great bowlful of
+that same kind of jelly.
+
+Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
+
+The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the
+roadside, whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
+
+"Hullo," smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
+
+The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
+
+"Hullo yourself," he mumbled.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Now you don't look as if you'd be glad even for calf's-foot
+jelly," she chuckled, stopping before him.
+
+The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began
+to whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife
+in his hand.
+
+Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the
+grass near him. In spite of Pollyanna's brave assertion that she
+was "used to Ladies' Aiders," and "didn't mind," she had sighed
+at times for some companion of her own age. Hence her
+determination to make the most of this one.
+
+"My name's Pollyanna Whittier," she began pleasantly. "What's
+yours?"
+
+Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet.
+But he settled back.
+
+"Jimmy Bean," he grunted with ungracious indifference.
+
+"Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some
+folks don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house.
+Where do you live?"
+
+"Nowhere."
+
+"Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere,"
+asserted Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place."
+
+"Oh! Where is it?"
+
+The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
+
+"Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!"
+
+Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and
+she did not like to be called "silly."  Still, he was somebody
+besides--old folks. "Where did you live--before?" she queried.
+
+"Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!" sighed the
+boy impatiently.
+
+"I have to be," retorted Pollyanna calmly, "else I couldn't find
+out a thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so
+much."
+
+The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not
+quite a willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when
+he spoke this time.
+
+"All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old
+goin' on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home;
+but they've got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I
+wa'n't never wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm
+goin' ter live somewheres else--but I hain't found the place,
+yet. I'd LIKE a home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother
+in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I
+hain't had folks since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've
+tried four houses, but--they didn't want me--though I said I
+expected ter work, 'course. There! Is that all you want ter
+know?" The boy's voice had broken a little over the last two
+sentences.
+
+"Why, what a shame!" sympathized Pollyanna. "And didn't there
+anybody want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because
+after--after my father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the
+Ladies' Aid for me, until Aunt Polly said she'd take--" Pollyanna
+stopped abruptly. The dawning of a wonderful idea began to show
+in her face.
+
+"Oh, I know just the place for you," she cried. "Aunt Polly'll
+take you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she
+take Fluffy and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love
+them, or any place to go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh,
+come, I know Aunt Polly'll take you! You don't know how good and
+kind she is!"
+
+Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.
+
+"Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real
+strong!" He bared a small, bony arm.
+
+"Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in
+the world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And
+there's rooms--heaps of 'em," she continued, springing to her
+feet, and tugging at his arm. "It's an awful big house. Maybe,
+though," she added a little anxiously, as they hurried on, "maybe
+you'll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at first. But
+there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so hot, and the flies
+can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet.
+Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll let
+you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And
+you've got freckles, too,"--with a critical glance--"so you'll be
+glad there isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is
+nicer than any wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in
+that room at all, I'm sure," panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly
+that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than
+talking.
+
+"Gorry!" exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
+admiringly. Then he added:  "I shouldn't think anybody who could
+talk like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill
+up time with!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that," she retorted; "for when
+I'm talking, YOU don't have to!"
+
+
+When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
+companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," she triumphed, "just look a-here! I've got
+something ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you
+to bring up. It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping
+in the attic, at first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I
+shall need him the most of the time to play with, I reckon."
+
+Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite
+understand; but she thought she understood enough.
+
+"Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy?
+Where did you find him?" she demanded sharply.
+
+The "dirty little boy" fell back a step and looked toward the
+door. Pollyanna laughed merrily.
+
+"There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as
+the Man. And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy
+is--just like Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I
+reckon he'll improve all right by washing, just as they did,
+and--Oh, I 'most forgot again," she broke off with a laugh. "This
+is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly."
+
+"Well, what is he doing here?"
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!"  Pollyanna's eyes were wide
+with surprise. "He's for you. I brought him home--so he could
+live here, you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how
+good you were to me, and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you
+would be to him, because of course he's even nicer than cats and
+dogs."
+
+Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to
+her throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to
+overcome her. With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled
+herself suddenly erect.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing
+you've done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad
+enough but you must needs bring home ragged little beggars from
+the street, who--"
+
+There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his
+chin came up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he
+confronted Miss Polly fearlessly.
+
+"I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
+cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't
+have come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't
+'a' made me, a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd
+be jest dyin' ter take me in. So, there!" And he wheeled about
+and stalked from the room with a dignity that would have been
+absurd had it not been so pitiful.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly," choked Pollyanna. "Why, I thought you'd be GLAD
+to have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence.
+Miss Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The "good and kind" of
+the boy's words were still ringing in her ears, and the old
+helplessness was almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her
+forces with the last atom of her will power.
+
+"Pollyanna," she cried sharply, "WILL you stop using that
+everlasting word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning
+till night until I think I shall grow wild!"
+
+From sheer amazement Pollyanna's jaw dropped.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly," she breathed, "I should think you'd be glad to
+have me gl--Oh!" she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and
+hurrying blindly from the room.
+
+Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna
+overtook him.
+
+"Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how--how sorry I am,"
+she panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
+
+"Sorry nothin'! I ain't blamin' you," retorted the boy, sullenly.
+"But I ain't no beggar!" he added, with sudden spirit.
+
+"Of course you aren't! But you mustn't blame auntie," appealed
+Pollyanna. "Probably I didn't do the introducing right, anyhow;
+and I reckon I didn't tell her much who you were. She is good and
+kind, really--she's always been; but I probably didn't explain it
+right. I do wish I could find some place for you, though!"
+
+The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
+
+"Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain't no beggar,
+you know."
+
+Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her
+face illumined.
+
+"Say, I'll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies' Aid meets this
+afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I'll lay your case before
+them. That's what father always did, when he wanted
+anything--educating the heathen and new carpets, you know."
+
+The boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Well, I ain't a heathen or a new carpet. Besides--what is a
+Ladies' Aid?"
+
+Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
+
+"Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?--not to know
+what a Ladies' Aid is!"
+
+"Oh, all right--if you ain't tellin'," grunted the boy, turning
+and beginning to walk away indifferently.
+
+Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
+
+"It's--it's--why, it's just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and
+give suppers and raise money and--and talk; that's what a Ladies'
+Aid is. They're awfully kind--that is, most of mine was, back
+home. I haven't seen this one here, but they're always good, I
+reckon. I'm going to tell them about you this afternoon."
+
+Again the boy turned fiercely.
+
+"Not much you will! Maybe you think I'm goin' ter stand 'round
+an' hear a whole LOT o' women call me a beggar, instead of jest
+ONE! Not much!"
+
+"Oh, but you wouldn't be there," argued Pollyanna, quickly. "I'd
+go alone, of course, and tell them."
+
+"You would?"
+
+"Yes; and I'd tell it better this time," hurried on Pollyanna,
+quick to see the signs of relenting in the boy's face. "And
+there'd be some of 'em, I know, that would be glad to give you a
+home."
+
+"I'd work--don't forget ter say that," cautioned the boy.
+
+"Of course not," promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her
+point was gained. "Then I'll let you know to-morrow."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"By the road--where I found you to-day; near Mrs. Snow's house."
+
+"All right. I'll be there."  The boy paused before he went on
+slowly: "Maybe I'd better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the
+Home. You see I hain't no other place ter stay; and--and I didn't
+leave till this mornin'. I slipped out. I didn't tell 'em I
+wasn't comin' back, else they'd pretend I couldn't come--though
+I'm thinkin' they won't do no worryin' when I don't show up
+sometime. They ain't like FOLKS, ye know. They don't CARE!"
+
+"I know," nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. "But I'm
+sure, when I see you to-morrow, I'll have just a common home and
+folks that do care all ready for you. Good-by!" she called
+brightly, as she turned back toward the house.
+
+In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had
+been watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy
+until a bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed,
+turned, and walked listlesly up-stairs--and Miss Polly did not
+usually move listlessly. In her ears still was the boy's scornful
+"you was so good and kind." In her heart was a curious sense of
+desolation--as of something lost.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID
+
+Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a
+silent meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it
+is true, tried to talk; but she did not make a success of it,
+chiefly because four times she was obliged to break off a "glad"
+in the middle of it, much to her blushing discomfort. The fifth
+time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head wearily.
+
+"There, there, child, say it, if you want to," she sighed. "I'm
+sure I'd rather you did than not if it's going to make all this
+fuss."
+
+Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.
+
+"Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say
+it. You see I've played it so long."
+
+"You've--what?" demanded Aunt Polly.
+
+"Played it--the game, you know, that father--" Pollyanna stopped
+with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on
+forbidden ground.
+
+Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a
+silent one.
+
+Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister's
+wife over the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at
+the Ladies' Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When
+Aunt Polly went up-stairs to her room and closed the door,
+Pollyanna tried to be sorry for the headache; but she could not
+help feeling glad that her aunt was not to be present that
+afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the Ladies'
+Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a
+little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him
+that--before the Ladies' Aid.
+
+Pollyanna knew that the Ladies' Aid met at two o'clock in the
+chapel next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She
+planned her going, therefore, so that she should get there a
+little before three.
+
+"I want them all to be there," she said to herself; "else the
+very one that wasn't there might be the one who would be wanting
+to give Jimmy Bean a home; and, of course, two o'clock always
+means three, really--to Ladies' Aiders."
+
+Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the
+chapel steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A
+soft babel of feminine chatter and laughter came from the main
+room. Hesitating only a brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of
+the inner doors.
+
+The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a
+little timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly
+shy. After all, these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her
+were not her own dear Ladies' Aid.
+
+"How do you do, Ladies' Aiders?" she faltered politely. "I'm
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I reckon some of you know me, maybe;
+anyway, I do YOU--only I don't know you all together this way."
+
+The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know
+this rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and
+nearly all had heard of her; but not one of them could think of
+anything to say, just then.
+
+"I--I've come to--to lay the case before you," stammered
+Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her
+father's familiar phraseology.
+
+There was a slight rustle.
+
+"Did--did your aunt send you, my dear?" asked Mrs. Ford, the
+minister's wife.
+
+Pollyanna colored a little.
+
+"Oh, no. I came all by myself. You see, I'm used to Ladies'
+Aiders. It was Ladies' Aiders that brought me up--with father."
+
+Somebody tittered hysterically, and the minister's wife frowned.
+
+"Yes, dear. What is it?"
+
+"Well, it--it's Jimmy Bean," sighed Pollyanna. "He hasn't any
+home except the Orphan one, and they're full, and don't want him,
+anyhow, he thinks; so he wants another. He wants one of the
+common kind, that has a mother instead of a Matron in it--folks,
+you know, that'll care. He's ten years old going on eleven. I
+thought some of you might like him--to live with you, you know."
+
+"Well, did you ever!" murmured a voice, breaking the dazed pause
+that followed Pollyanna's words.
+
+With anxious eyes Pollyanna swept the circle of faces about her.
+
+"Oh, I forgot to say; he will work," she supplemented eagerly.
+
+Still there was silence; then, coldly, one or two women began to
+question her. After a time they all had the story and began to
+talk among themselves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly.
+
+Pollyanna listened with growing anxiety. Some of what was said
+she could not understand. She did gather, after a time, however,
+that there was no woman there who had a home to give him, though
+every woman seemed to think that some of the others might take
+him, as there were several who had no little boys of their own
+already in their homes. But there was no one who agreed herself
+to take him. Then she heard the minister's wife suggest timidly
+that they, as a society, might perhaps assume his support and
+education instead of sending quite so much money this year to the
+little boys in far-away India.
+
+A great many ladies talked then, and several of them talked all
+at once, and even more loudly and more unpleasantly than before.
+It seemed that their society was famous for its offering to Hindu
+missions, and several said they should die of mortification if it
+should be less this year. Some of what was said at this time
+Pollyanna again thought she could not have understood, too, for
+it sounded almost as if they did not care at all what the money
+DID, so long as the sum opposite the name of their society in a
+certain "report" "headed the list"--and of course that could not
+be what they meant at all! But it was all very confusing, and not
+quite pleasant, so that Pollyanna was glad, indeed, when at last
+she found herself outside in the hushed, sweet air--only she was
+very sorry, too: for she knew it was not going to be easy, or
+anything but sad, to tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow that the Ladies'
+Aid had decided that they would rather send all their money to
+bring up the little India boys than to save out enough to bring
+up one little boy in their own town, for which they would not get
+"a bit of credit in the report," according to the tall lady who
+wore spectacles.
+
+"Not but that it's good, of course, to send money to the heathen,
+and I shouldn't want 'em not to send SOME there," sighed
+Pollyanna to herself, as she trudged sorrowfully along. "But they
+acted as if little boys HERE weren't any account--only little
+boys 'way off. I should THINK, though, they'd rather see Jimmy
+Bean grow--than just a report!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS
+
+Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
+chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It
+had been a hard day, for all it had been a "vacation one" (as she
+termed the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking
+lesson), and Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite
+so much good as a walk through the green quiet of Pendleton
+Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed steadily, in
+spite of the warm sun on her back.
+
+"I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway," she was
+telling herself; "and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the
+way of the woods, even if I do have to climb to get there."
+
+It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew
+by experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than
+ever, notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell
+Jimmy Bean to-morrow.
+
+"I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud,"
+sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of
+vivid blue between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. "Anyhow, if
+they were up here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy
+Bean for their little boy, all right," she finished, secure in
+her conviction, but unable to give a reason for it, even to
+herself.
+
+Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
+some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her,
+still barking.
+
+"Hullo, doggie--hullo!"  Pollyanna snapped her fingers at the dog
+and looked expectantly down the path. She had seen the dog once
+before, she was sure. He had been then with the Man, Mr. John
+Pendleton. She was looking now, hoping to see him. For some
+minutes she watched eagerly, but he did not appear. Then she
+turned her attention toward the dog.
+
+The dog, as even Pollyanna could see, was acting strangely. He
+was still barking--giving little short, sharp yelps, as if of
+alarm. He was running back and forth, too, in the path ahead.
+Soon they reached a side path, and down this the little dog
+fairly flew, only to come back at once, whining and barking.
+
+"Ho! That isn't the way home," laughed Pollyanna, still keeping
+to the main path.
+
+The little dog seemed frantic now. Back and forth, back and
+forth, between Pollyanna and the side path he vibrated, barking
+and whining pitifully. Every quiver of his little brown body, and
+every glance from his beseeching brown eyes were eloquent with
+appeal--so eloquent that at last Pollyanna understood, turned,
+and followed him.
+
+Straight ahead, now, the little dog dashed madly; and it was not
+long before Pollyanna came upon the reason for it all: a man
+lying motionless at the foot of a steep, overhanging mass of rock
+a few yards from the side path.
+
+A twig cracked sharply under Pollyanna's foot, and the man turned
+his head. With a cry of dismay Pollyanna ran to his side.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton! Oh, are you hurt?"
+
+"Hurt? Oh, no! I'm just taking a siesta in the sunshine," snapped
+the man irritably. "See here, how much do you know? What can you
+do? Have you got any sense?"
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath with a little gasp, but--as was her
+habit--she answered the questions literally, one by one.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I--I don't know so very much, and I can't do
+a great many things; but most of the Ladies' Aiders, except Mrs.
+Rawson, said I had real good sense. I heard 'em say so one
+day--they didn't know I heard, though."
+
+The man smiled grimly.
+
+"There, there, child, I beg your pardon, I'm sure; it's only this
+confounded leg of mine. Now listen."  He paused, and with some
+difficulty reached his hand into his trousers pocket and brought
+out a bunch of keys, singling out one between his thumb and
+forefinger. "Straight through the path there, about five minutes'
+walk, is my house. This key will admit you to the side door under
+the porte-cochere. Do you know what a porte-cochere is?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir. Auntie has one with a sun parlor over it. That's
+the roof I slept on--only I didn't sleep, you know. They found
+me."
+
+"Eh? Oh! Well, when you get into the house, go straight through
+the vestibule and hall to the door at the end. On the big,
+flat-topped desk in the middle of the room you'll find a
+telephone. Do you know how to use a telephone?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! Why, once when Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Polly now," cut in the man scowlingly, as he
+tried to move himself a little.
+
+"Hunt up Dr. Thomas Chilton's number on the card you'll find
+somewhere around there--it ought to be on the hook down at the
+side, but it probably won't be. You know a telephone card, I
+suppose, when you see one!"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir! I just love Aunt Polly's. There's such a lot of
+queer names, and--"
+
+"Tell Dr. Chilton that John Pendleton is at the foot of Little
+Eagle Ledge in Pendleton Woods with a broken leg, and to come at
+once with a stretcher and two men. He'll know what to do besides
+that. Tell him to come by the path from the house."
+
+"A broken leg? Oh, Mr. Pendleton, how perfectly awful!" shuddered
+Pollyanna. "But I'm so glad I came! Can't _I_ do--"
+
+"Yes, you can--but evidently you won't! WILL you go and do what I
+ask and stop talking," moaned the man, faintly. And, with a
+little sobbing cry, Pollyanna went.
+
+Pollyanna did not stop now to look up at the patches of blue
+between the sunlit tops of the trees. She kept her eyes on the
+ground to make sure that no twig nor stone tripped her hurrying
+feet.
+
+It was not long before she came in sight of the house. She had
+seen it before, though never so near as this. She was almost
+frightened now at the massiveness of the great pile of gray stone
+with its pillared verandas and its imposing entrance. Pausing
+only a moment, however, she sped across the big neglected lawn
+and around the house to the side door under the porte-cochere.
+Her fingers, stiff from their tight clutch upon the keys, were
+anything but skilful in their efforts to turn the bolt in the
+lock; but at last the heavy, carved door swung slowly back on its
+hinges.
+
+Pollyanna caught her breath. In spite of her feeling of haste,
+she paused a moment and looked fearfully through the vestibule to
+the wide, sombre hall beyond, her thoughts in a whirl. This was
+John Pendleton's house; the house of mystery; the house into
+which no one but its master entered; the house which sheltered,
+somewhere--a skeleton. Yet she, Pollyanna, was expected to enter
+alone these fearsome rooms, and telephone the doctor that the
+master of the house lay now--
+
+With a little cry Pollyanna, looking neither to the right nor the
+left, fairly ran through the hall to the door at the end and
+opened it.
+
+The room was large, and sombre with dark woods and hangings like
+the hall; but through the west window the sun threw a long shaft
+of gold across the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass
+andirons in the fireplace, and touched the nickel of the
+telephone on the great desk in the middle of the room. It was
+toward this desk that Pollyanna hurriedly tiptoed.
+
+The telephone card was not on its hook; it was on the floor. But
+Pollyanna found it, and ran her shaking forefinger down through
+the C's to "Chilton."  In due time she had Dr. Chilton himself at
+the other end of the wires, and was tremblingly delivering her
+message and answering the doctor's terse, pertinent questions.
+This done, she hung up the receiver and drew a long breath of
+relief.
+
+Only a brief glance did Pollyanna give about her; then, with a
+confused vision in her eyes of crimson draperies, book-lined
+walls, a littered floor, an untidy desk, innumerable closed doors
+(any one of which might conceal a skeleton), and everywhere dust,
+dust, dust, she fled back through the hall to the great carved
+door, still half open as she had left it.
+
+In what seemed, even to the injured man, an incredibly short
+time, Pollyanna was back in the woods at the man's side.
+
+"Well, what is the trouble? Couldn't you get in?" he demanded.
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.
+
+"Why, of course I could! I'm HERE," she answered. "As if I'd be
+here if I hadn't got in! And the doctor will be right up just as
+soon as possible with the men and things. He said he knew just
+where you were, so I didn't stay to show him. I wanted to be with
+you."
+
+"Did you?" smiled the man, grimly. "Well, I can't say I admire
+your taste. I should think you might find pleasanter companions."
+
+"Do you mean--because you're so--cross?"
+
+"Thanks for your frankness. Yes."
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"But you're only cross OUTSIDE--You arn't cross inside a bit!"
+
+"Indeed! How do you know that?" asked the man, trying to change
+the position of his head without moving the rest of his body.
+
+"Oh, lots of ways; there--like that--the way you act with the
+dog," she added, pointing to the long, slender hand that rested
+on the dog's sleek head near him. "It's funny how dogs and cats
+know the insides of folks better than other folks do, isn't it?
+Say, I'm going to hold your head," she finished abruptly.
+
+The man winced several times and groaned once; softly while the
+change was being made; but in the end he found Pollyanna's lap a
+very welcome substitute for the rocky hollow in which his head
+had lain before.
+
+"Well, that is--better," he murmured faintly.
+
+He did not speak again for some time. Pollyanna, watching his
+face, wondered if he were asleep. She did not think he was. He
+looked as if his lips were tight shut to keep back moans of pain.
+Pollyanna herself almost cried aloud as she looked at his great,
+strong body lying there so helpless. One hand, with fingers
+tightly clenched, lay outflung, motionless. The other, limply
+open, lay on the dog's head. The dog, his wistful, eager eyes on
+his master's face, was motionless, too.
+
+Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the
+west and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat
+so still she hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly
+within reach of her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail
+on a tree-branch almost under her nose--yet with his bright
+little eyes all the while on the motionless dog.
+
+At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he
+gave a short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices,
+and very soon their owners appeared three men carrying a
+stretcher and various other articles.
+
+The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom
+Pollyanna knew by sight as "Dr. Chilton"--advanced cheerily.
+
+"Well, my little lady, playing nurse?"
+
+"Oh, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "I've only held his head--I
+haven't given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here."
+
+"So am I," nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention
+to the injured man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
+
+Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the
+accident to John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped
+without reproof.
+
+Nancy met her at the door.
+
+"Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you," she
+sighed in obvious relief. "It's half-past six!"
+
+"I know it," admitted Pollyanna anxiously; "but I'm not to
+blame--truly I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say
+I am, either."
+
+"She won't have the chance," retorted Nancy, with huge
+satisfaction. "She's gone."
+
+"Gone!" gasped Pollyanna. "You don't mean that I've driven her
+away?" Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful
+memories of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and
+its unwelcome "glad" and forbidden "father" that would spring to
+her forgetful little tongue. Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?"
+
+"Not much you did," scoffed Nancy. "Her cousin died suddenly
+down to Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller
+telegram letters after you went away this afternoon, and she
+won't be back for three days. Now I guess we're glad all right.
+We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest you and me, all that time.
+We will, we will!"
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?"
+
+"Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It
+was--" Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her
+eyes. "Why, Miss Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was
+teachin' me ter play the game," she reproached her gravely.
+
+Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
+
+"I can't help it, Nancy," she argued with a shake of her head.
+"It must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play
+the game on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's
+nothing in a funeral to be glad about."
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"We can be glad 'tain't our'n," she observed demurely. But
+Pollyanna did not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident;
+and in a moment Nancy, open-mouthed, was listening.
+
+At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy
+Bean according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course,
+Jimmy showed keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a
+little India boy to himself.
+
+"Well, maybe 'tis natural," he sighed. "Of course things you
+don't know about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the
+pertater on 'tother side of the plate is always the biggest. But
+I wish I looked that way ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be
+jest great, now, if only somebody over in India wanted ME?"
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my
+Ladies' Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only
+out West--but that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon
+you'd think so if you'd come all the way here as I did!"
+
+Jimmy's face brightened.
+
+"Do you think they would--truly--take me?" he asked.
+
+"Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to
+bring up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy
+this time. I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all
+right. You wait. I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll
+write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got the most money, but Mrs.
+Jones gives the most--which is kind of funny, isn't it?--when you
+think of it. But I reckon some of the Aiders will take you."
+
+"All right--but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an'
+keep," put in Jimmy. "I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is
+biz'ness, even with Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'." He hesitated,
+then added: "An' I s'pose I better stay where I be fur a spell
+yet--till you hear."
+
+"Of course," nodded Pollyanna emphatically. "Then I'll know just
+where to find you. And they'll take you--I'm sure you're far
+enough away for that. Didn't Aunt Polly take--Say!" she broke
+off, suddenly, "DO you suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl
+from India?"
+
+"Well, if you ain't the queerest kid," grinned Jimmy, as he
+turned away.
+
+It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that
+Pollyanna said to her aunt one morning:
+
+"Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs.
+Snow's calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure
+Mrs. Snow wouldn't--this once."
+
+"Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?" sighed her aunt.
+"You ARE the most extraordinary child!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
+
+"Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're
+EXtraordinary you can't be ORdinary, can you?"
+
+"You certainly can not."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm EXtraordinary," sighed
+Pollyanna, her face clearing. "You see, Mrs. White used to say
+Mrs. Rawson was a very ordinary woman--and she disliked Mrs.
+Rawson something awful. They were always fight--I mean, father
+had--that is, I mean, WE had more trouble keeping peace between
+them than we did between any of the rest of the Aiders,"
+corrected Pollyanna, a little breathless from her efforts to
+steer between the Scylla of her father's past commands in regard
+to speaking of church quarrels, and the Charybdis of her aunt's
+present commands in regard to speaking of her father.
+
+"Yes, yes; well, never mind," interposed Aunt Polly, a trifle
+impatiently. "You do run on so, Pollyanna, and no matter what
+we're talking about you always bring up at those Ladies' Aiders!"
+
+"Yes'm," smiled Pollyanna, cheerfully, "I reckon I do, maybe. But
+you see they used to bring me up, and--"
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna," interrupted a cold voice. "Now what is
+it about this jelly?"
+
+"Nothing, Aunt Polly, truly, that you would mind, I'm sure. You
+let me take jelly to HER, so I thought you would to HIM--this
+once. You see, broken legs aren't like--like lifelong invalids,
+so his won't last forever as Mrs. Snow's does, and she can have
+all the rest of the things after just once or twice."
+
+" 'Him'? 'He'? 'Broken leg'? What are you talking about,
+Pollyanna?"
+
+Pollyanna stared; then her face relaxed.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. I reckon you didn't know. You see, it happened
+while you were gone. It was the very day you went that I found
+him in the woods, you know; and I had to unlock his house and
+telephone for the men and the doctor, and hold his head, and
+everything. And of course then I came away and haven't seen him
+since. But when Nancy made the jelly for Mrs. Snow this week I
+thought how nice it would be if I could take it to him instead of
+her, just this once. Aunt Polly, may I?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I suppose so," acquiesced Miss Polly, a little
+wearily. "Who did you say he was?"
+
+"The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton."
+
+Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair.
+
+"JOHN PENDLETON!"
+
+"Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she asked:
+
+"Do YOU know him?"
+
+Pollyanna nodded.
+
+"Oh, yes. He always speaks and smiles--now. He's only cross
+OUTSIDE, you know. I'll go and get the jelly. Nancy had it 'most
+fixed when I came in," finished Pollyanna, already halfway across
+the room.
+
+"Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern.
+I've changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that
+jelly to-day--as usual. That is all. You may go now."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and
+have things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs
+don't last--I mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now."
+
+"Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an
+accident," said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; "but--I do not care
+to be sending jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna."
+
+"I know, he is cross--outside," admitted Pollyanna, sadly, "so I
+suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it.
+I'd say 'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly."
+
+Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she
+stopped, and asked in a curiously quiet voice:
+
+"Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?"
+
+The little girl sighed.
+
+"I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me
+it--never."
+
+"Does he know where you--live?"
+
+"Oh, no. I never told him that."
+
+"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at
+Pollyanna with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The
+little girl, shifting impatiently from one small foot to the
+other, sighed audibly. Then Miss Polly roused herself with a
+start.
+
+"Very well, Pollyanna," she said at last, still in that queer
+voice, so unlike her own; "you may you may take the jelly to Mr.
+Pendleton as your own gift. But understand:  I do not send it. Be
+very sure that he does not think I do!"
+
+"Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly," exulted Pollyanna, as she
+flew through the door.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON
+
+The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna
+when she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John
+Pendleton. Windows were open, an elderly woman was hanging out
+clothes in the back yard, and the doctor's gig stood under the
+porte-cochere.
+
+As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
+bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a
+bunch of keys.
+
+A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her,
+but there was a slight delay before the woman who had been
+hanging out the clothes opened the door.
+
+"If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr.
+Pendleton," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+"Thank you," said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little
+girl's hand. "Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot
+jelly?"
+
+The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the
+woman's words and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face.
+He stepped quickly forward.
+
+"Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?" he asked genially. "That will be
+fine! Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?"
+
+"Oh, yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to
+a nod from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though
+plainly with vast surprise on her face.
+
+Behind the doctor, a young man (a trained nurse from the nearest
+city) gave a disturbed exclamation.
+
+"But, Doctor, didn't Mr. Pendleton give orders not to admit--any
+one?"
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded the doctor, imperturbably. "But I'm giving
+orders now. I'll take the risk." Then he added whimsically: "You
+don't know, of course; but that little girl is better than a
+six-quart bottle of tonic any day. If anything or anybody can
+take the grouch out of Pendleton this afternoon, she can. That's
+why I sent her in."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+For one brief moment the doctor hesitated.
+
+"She's the niece of one of our best known residents. Her name is
+Pollyanna Whittier. I--I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive
+personal acquaintance with the little lady as yet; but lots of my
+patients do--I'm thankful to say!"
+
+The nurse smiled.
+
+"Indeed! And what are the special ingredients of this
+wonder-working--tonic of hers?"
+
+The doctor shook his head.
+
+"I don't know. As near as I can find out it is an overwhelming,
+unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is
+going to happen. At any rate, her quaint speeches are constantly
+being repeated to me, and, as near as I can make out, 'just being
+glad' is the tenor of most of them. All is," he added, with
+another whimsical smile, as he stepped out on to the porch, "I
+wish I could prescribe her--and buy her--as I would a box of
+pills;--though if there gets to be many of her in the world, you
+and I might as well go to ribbon-selling and ditch-digging for
+all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring," he laughed,
+picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.
+
+Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the doctor's orders, was
+being escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.
+
+Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall,
+and, rapid as was her progress through it, Pollyanna saw at once
+that great changes had taken place. The book-lined walls and the
+crimson curtains were the same; but there was no litter on the
+floor, no untidiness on the desk, and not so much as a grain of
+dust in sight. The telephone card hung in its proper place, and
+the brass andirons had been polished. One of the mysterious doors
+was open, and it was toward this that the maid led the way. A
+moment later Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished
+bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice:
+
+"If you please, sir, here--here's a little girl with some jelly.
+The doctor said I was to--to bring her in."
+
+The next moment Pollyanna found herself alone with a very
+cross-looking man lying flat on his back in bed.
+
+"See here, didn't I say--" began an angry voice. "Oh, it's you!"
+it broke off not very graciously, as Pollyanna advanced toward
+the bed.
+
+"Yes, sir," smiled Pollyanna. "Oh, I'm so glad they let me in!
+You see, at first the lady 'most took my jelly, and I was so
+afraid I wasn't going to see you at all. Then the doctor came,
+and he said I might. Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?"
+
+In spite of himself the man's lips twitched into a smile; but all
+he said was "Humph!"
+
+"And I've brought you some jelly," resumed Pollyanna;
+"--calf's-foot. I hope you like it?"  There was a rising
+inflection in her voice.
+
+"Never ate it."  The fleeting smile had gone, and the scowl had
+come back to the man's face.
+
+For a brief instant Pollyanna's countenance showed
+disappointment; but it cleared as she set the bowl of jelly down.
+
+"Didn't you? Well, if you didn't, then you can't know you DON'T
+like it, anyhow, can you? So I reckon I'm glad you haven't, after
+all. Now, if you knew--"
+
+"Yes, yes; well, there's one thing I know all right, and that is
+that I'm flat on my back right here this minute, and that I'm
+liable to stay here--till doomsday, I guess."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Oh, no! It couldn't be till doomsday, you know, when the angel
+Gabriel blows his trumpet, unless it should come quicker than we
+think it will--oh, of course, I know the Bible says it may come
+quicker than we think, but I don't think it will--that is, of
+course I believe the Bible; but I mean I don't think it will come
+as much quicker as it would if it should come now, and--"
+
+John Pendleton laughed suddenly--and aloud. The nurse, coming in
+at that moment, heard the laugh, and beat a hurried--but a very
+silent--retreat. He had the air of a frightened cook who, seeing
+the danger of a breath of cold air striking a half-done cake,
+hastily shuts the oven door.
+
+"Aren't you getting a little mixed?" asked John Pendleton of
+Pollyanna.
+
+The little girl laughed.
+
+"Maybe. But what I mean is, that legs don't last--broken ones,
+you know--like lifelong invalids, same as Mrs. Snow has got. So
+yours won't last till doomsday at all. I should think you could
+be glad of that."
+
+"Oh, I am," retorted the man grimly.
+
+"And you didn't break but one. You can be glad 'twasn't two."
+Pollyanna was warming to her task.
+
+"Of course! So fortunate," sniffed the man, with uplifted
+eyebrows; "looking at it from that standpoint, I suppose I might
+be glad I wasn't a centipede and didn't break fifty!"
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"Oh, that's the best yet," she crowed. "I know what a centipede
+is; they've got lots of legs. And you can be glad--"
+
+"Oh, of course," interrupted the man, sharply, all the old
+bitterness coming back to his voice; "I can be glad, too, for all
+the rest, I suppose--the nurse, and the doctor, and that
+confounded woman in the kitchen!"
+
+"Why, yes, sir--only think how bad 'twould be if you DIDN'T have
+them!"
+
+"Well, I--eh?" he demanded sharply.
+
+"Why, I say, only think how bad it would be if you didn't have
+'em--and you lying here like this!"
+
+"As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the
+whole matter," retorted the man, testily, "because I am lying
+here like this! And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of
+a fool woman who disarranges the whole house and calls it
+'regulating,' and a man who aids and abets her in it, and calls
+it 'nursing,' to say nothing of the doctor who eggs 'em both
+on--and the whole bunch of them, meanwhile, expecting me to pay
+them for it, and pay them well, too!"
+
+Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.
+
+"Yes, I know. THAT part is too bad--about the money--when you've
+been saving it, too, all this time."
+
+"When--eh?"
+
+"Saving it--buying beans and fish balls, you know. Say, DO you
+like beans?--or do you like turkey better, only on account of the
+sixty cents?"
+
+"Look a-here, child, what are you talking about?"
+
+Pollyanna smiled radiantly.
+
+"About your money, you know--denying yourself, and saving it for
+the heathen. You see, I found out about it. Why, Mr. Pendleton,
+that's one of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside. Nancy
+told me."
+
+The man's jaw dropped.
+
+"Nancy told you I was saving money for the--Well, may I inquire
+who Nancy is?"
+
+"Our Nancy. She works for Aunt Polly."
+
+"Aunt Polly! Well, who is Aunt Polly?"
+
+"She's Miss Polly Harrington. I live with her."
+
+The man made a sudden movement.
+
+"Miss--Polly--Harrington!" he breathed. "You live with--HER!"
+
+"Yes; I'm her niece. She's taken me to bring up--on account of my
+mother, you know," faltered Pollyanna, in a low voice. "She was
+her sister. And after father--went to be with her and the rest of
+us in Heaven, there wasn't any one left for me down here but the
+Ladies' Aid; so she took me."
+
+The man did not answer. His face, as he lay back on the pillow
+now, was very white--so white that Pollyanna was frightened. She
+rose uncertainly to her feet.
+
+"I reckon maybe I'd better go now," she proposed. "I--I hope
+you'll like--the jelly."
+
+The man turned his head suddenly, and opened his eyes. There was
+a curious longing in their dark depths which even Pollyanna saw,
+and at which she marvelled.
+
+"And so you are--Miss Polly Harrington's niece," he said gently.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face, until Pollyanna,
+feeling vaguely restless, murmured:
+
+"I--I suppose you know--her."
+
+John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.
+
+"Oh, yes; I know her."  He hesitated, then went on, still with
+that curious smile. "But--you don't mean--you can't mean that it
+was Miss Polly Harrington who sent that jelly--to me?" he said
+slowly.
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir:  she didn't. She said I must be very sure not to let
+you think she did send it. But I--"
+
+"I thought as much," vouchsafed the man, shortly, turning away
+his head. And Pollyanna, still more distressed, tiptoed from the
+room.
+
+Under the porte-cochere she found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+The nurse stood on the steps.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, may I have the pleasure of seeing you
+home?" asked the doctor smilingly. "I started to drive on a few
+minutes ago; then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I'm glad you did. I just love to ride," beamed
+Pollyanna, as he reached out his hand to help her in.
+
+"Do you?" smiled the doctor, nodding his head in farewell to the
+young man on the steps. "Well, as near as I can judge, there are
+a good many things you 'love' to do--eh?" he added, as they drove
+briskly away.
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Why, I don't know. I reckon perhaps there are," she admitted. "I
+like to do 'most everything that's LIVING. Of course I don't like
+the other things very well--sewing, and reading out loud, and all
+that. But THEY aren't LIVING."
+
+"No? What are they, then?"
+
+"Aunt Polly says they're 'learning to live,' sighed Pollyanna,
+with a rueful smile.
+
+The doctor smiled now--a little queerly.
+
+"Does she? Well, I should think she might say--just that."
+
+"Yes," responded Pollyanna. "But I don't see it that way at all.
+I don't think you have to LEARN how to live. I didn't, anyhow."
+
+The doctor drew a long sigh.
+
+"After all, I'm afraid some of us--do have to, little girl," he
+said. Then, for a time he was silent. Pollyanna, stealing a
+glance at his face, felt vaguely sorry for him. He looked so sad.
+She wished, uneasily, that she could "do something." It was this,
+perhaps, that caused her to say in a timid voice:
+
+"Dr. Chilton, I should think being a doctor would, be the very
+gladdest kind of a business there was."
+
+The doctor turned in surprise.
+
+" 'Gladdest'!--when I see so much suffering always, everywhere I
+go?" he cried.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I know; but you're HELPING it--don't you see?--and of course
+you're glad to help it! And so that makes you the gladdest of any
+of us, all the time."
+
+The doctor's eyes filled with sudden hot tears. The doctor's life
+was a singularly lonely one. He had no wife and no home save his
+two-room office in a boarding house. His profession was very dear
+to him. Looking now into Pollyanna's shining eyes, he felt as if
+a loving hand had been suddenly laid on his head in blessing. He
+knew, too, that never again would a long day's work or a long
+night's weariness be quite without that new-found exaltation that
+had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"God bless you, little girl," he said unsteadily. Then, with the
+bright smile his patients knew and loved so well, he added: "And
+I'm thinking, after all, that it was the doctor, quite as much as
+his patients, that needed a draft of that tonic!" All of which
+puzzled Pollyanna very much--until a chipmunk, running across the
+road, drove the whole matter from her mind.
+
+The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door, smiled at Nancy, who
+was sweeping off the front porch, then drove rapidly away.
+
+"I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor," announced
+Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. "He's lovely, Nancy!"
+
+"Is he?"
+
+"Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be the
+very gladdest one there was."
+
+"What!--goin' ter see sick folks--an' folks what ain't sick but
+thinks they is, which is worse?" Nancy's face showed open
+skepticism.
+
+Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
+
+"Yes. That's 'most what he said, too; but there is a way to be
+glad, even then. Guess!"
+
+Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she could play
+this game of "being glad" quite successfully, she thought. She
+rather enjoyed studying out Pollyanna's "posers," too, as she
+called some of the little girl's questions.
+
+"Oh, I know," she chuckled. "It's just the opposite from what you
+told Mis' Snow."
+
+"Opposite?" repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
+
+"Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't
+like her--all sick, you know."
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna.
+
+"Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn't like other
+folks--the sick ones, I mean, what he doctors," finished Nancy in
+triumph.
+
+It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.
+
+"Why, y-yes," she admitted. "Of course that IS one way, but it
+isn't the way I said; and--someway, I don't seem to quite like
+the sound of it. It isn't exactly as if he said he was glad they
+WERE sick, but--You do play the game so funny, sometimes Nancy,"
+she sighed, as she went into the house.
+
+Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.
+
+"Who was that man--the one who drove into the yard, Pollyanna?"
+questioned the lady a little sharply.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, that was Dr. Chilton! Don't you know him?"
+
+"Dr. Chilton! What was he doing--here?"
+
+"He drove me home. Oh, and I gave the jelly to Mr. Pendleton,
+and--"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.
+
+"Pollyanna, he did not think I sent it?"
+
+"Oh, no, Aunt Polly. I told him you didn't."
+
+Miss Polly grew a sudden vivid pink.
+
+"You TOLD him I didn't!"
+
+Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the remonstrative dismay in her
+aunt's voice.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you SAID to!"
+
+Aunt Polly sighed.
+
+"I SAID, Pollyanna, that I did not send it, and for you to be
+very sure that he did not think I DID!--which is a very different
+matter from TELLING him outright that I did not send it." And she
+turned vexedly away.
+
+"Dear me! Well, I don't see where the difference is," sighed
+Pollyanna, as she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook
+in the house upon which Aunt Polly had said that it must be hung.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE SHAWL
+
+It was on a rainy day about a week after Pollyanna's visit to Mr.
+John Pendleton, that Miss Polly was driven by Timothy to an early
+afternoon committee meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society. When she
+returned at three o'clock, her cheeks were a bright, pretty pink,
+and her hair, blown by the damp wind, had fluffed into kinks and
+curls wherever the loosened pins had given leave.
+
+Pollyanna had never before seen her aunt look like this.
+
+"Oh--oh--oh! Why, Aunt Polly, you've got 'em, too," she cried
+rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady
+entered the sitting room.
+
+"Got what, you impossible child?"
+
+Pollyanna was still revolving round and round her aunt.
+
+"And I never knew you had 'em! Can folks have 'em when you don't
+know they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to
+Heaven, I mean," she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the
+straight locks above her ears. "But then, they wouldn't be black,
+if they did come. You can't hide the black part."
+
+"Pollyanna, what does all this mean?" demanded Aunt Polly,
+hurriedly removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her
+disordered hair.
+
+"No, no--please, Aunt Polly!"  Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned
+to one of distressed appeal. "Don't smooth 'em out! It's those
+that I'm talking about--those darling little black curls. Oh,
+Aunt Polly, they're so pretty!"
+
+"Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies'
+Aid the other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?"
+
+"But it isn't nonsense," urged Pollyanna, answering only the
+first of her aunt's remarks. "You don't know how pretty you look
+with your hair like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do
+your hair like I did Mrs. Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so
+love to see you that way! Why, you'd be ever so much prettier
+than she was!"
+
+"Pollyanna!"  (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more
+sharply because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of
+joy: when before had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked?
+When before had anybody "loved" to see her "pretty"?) "Pollyanna,
+you did not answer my question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid
+in that absurd fashion?"
+
+"Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I
+went and found out they'd rather see their report grow than
+Jimmy. So then I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far
+away from them, you know; and I thought maybe he could be their
+little India boy same as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India
+girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL let me do your hair, won't you?"
+
+Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling
+was upon her, she knew.
+
+"But, Pollyanna, when the ladies Old me this afternoon how you
+came to them, I was so ashamed! I--"
+
+Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.
+
+"You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair," she crowed
+triumphantly; "and so I'm sure it means just the other way
+'round, sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's
+jelly that you didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't
+send, you know. Now wait just where you are. I'll get a comb."
+
+"But Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Aunt Polly, following
+the little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.
+
+"Oh, did you come up here?"  Pollyanna greeted her at the door of
+Miss Polly's own room. "That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb.
+Now sit down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do
+it!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, I--I--"
+
+Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement
+she found herself in the low chair before the dressing table,
+with her hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager,
+but very gentle fingers.
+
+"Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got," prattled Pollyanna; "and
+there's so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of
+course, you need more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to
+places where folks can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when
+they do see it--and surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long.
+Why, Aunt Polly, I'll make you so pretty everybody'll just love
+to look at you!"
+
+"Pollyanna!" gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of
+hair. "I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly
+thing."
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like
+to look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever
+so much happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look
+at the other kind I'm so sorry for them."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+"And I just love to do folks' hair," purred Pollyanna,
+contentedly. "I did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there
+wasn't any of them so nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty
+nice, though, and she looked just lovely one day when I dressed
+her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just happened to think of
+something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell. Now your hair
+is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you just a
+minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
+peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!" she finished, as she
+ran from the room.
+
+Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course
+she should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers,
+and put her hair up properly again. As for "peeking" just as if
+she cared how--
+
+At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
+herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw
+sent such a flush of rosy color to her cheeks that--she only
+flushed the more at the sight.
+
+She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
+excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
+sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air,
+lay in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the
+ears in wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls
+here and there.
+
+So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the
+glass that she quite forgot her determination to do over her
+hair, until she heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she
+could move, then, she felt a folded something slipped across her
+eyes and tied in the back.
+
+"Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?" she cried.
+
+Pollyanna chuckled.
+
+"That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was
+afraid you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit
+still. It won't take but just a minute, then I'll let you see."
+
+"But, Pollyanna," began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her
+feet, "you must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you
+doing?" she gasped, as she felt a soft something slipped about
+her shoulders.
+
+Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling
+fingers she was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy
+folds of a beautiful lace shawl, yellowed from long years of
+packing away, and fragrant with lavender. Pollyanna had found the
+shawl the week before when Nancy had been regulating the attic;
+and it had occurred to her to-day that there was no reason why
+her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home, should not
+be "dressed up."
+
+Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that
+approved, but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly,
+therefore, she pulled her aunt toward the sun parlor where she
+could see a belated red rose blooming on the trellis within reach
+of her hand.
+
+"Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?"
+recoiled Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back.
+"Pollyanna, I shall not--"
+
+"It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
+now quicker'n no time," panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose
+and thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear.
+"There!" she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and
+flinging the bit of linen far from her. "Oh, Aunt Polly, now I
+reckon you'll be glad I dressed you up!"
+
+For one dazed moment Miss Polly looked at her bedecked self, and
+at her surroundings; then she gave a low cry and fled to her
+room. Pollyanna, following the direction of her aunt's last
+dismayed gaze, saw, through the open windows of the sun parlor,
+the horse and gig turning into the driveway. She recognized at
+once the man who held the reins. Delightedly she leaned forward.
+
+"Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me? I'm up here."
+
+"Yes," smiled the doctor, a little gravely. "Will you come down,
+please?"
+
+In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman
+plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.
+
+"Pollyanna, how could you?" moaned the woman. "To think of your
+rigging me up like this, and then letting me--BE SEEN!"
+
+Pollyanna stopped in dismay.
+
+"But you looked lovely--perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and--"
+
+" 'Lovely'!" scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side
+and attacking her hair with shaking fingers.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!"
+
+"Stay? Like this? As if I would!"  And Miss Polly pulled the
+locks so tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at
+the ends of her fingers.
+
+"O dear! And you did look so pretty," almost sobbed Pollyanna, as
+she stumbled through the door.
+
+Down-stairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.
+
+"I've prescribed you for a patient, and he's sent me to get the
+prescription filled," announced the doctor. "Will you go?"
+
+"You mean--an errand--to the drug store?" asked Pollyanna, a
+little uncertainly. "I used to go some--for the Ladies' Aiders."
+
+The doctor shook his head with a smile.
+
+"Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you
+to-day, if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so
+I drove down after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and
+bring you back before six o'clock."
+
+"I'd love to!" exclaimed Pollyanna. "Let me ask Aunt Polly."
+
+In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a
+sober face.
+
+"Didn't--your aunt want you to go?" asked the doctor, a little
+diffidently, as they drove away.
+
+"Y-yes," sighed Pollyanna. "She--she wanted me to go TOO much,
+I'm afraid."
+
+"Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!"
+
+Pollyanna sighed again.
+
+"Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she
+said: 'Yes, yes, run along, run along--do! I wish you'd gone
+before.' "
+
+The doctor smiled--but with his lips only. His eyes were very
+grave. For some time he said nothing; then, a little
+hesitatingly, he asked:
+
+"Wasn't it--your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago--in the
+window of the sun parlor?"
+
+Pollyanna drew a long breath.
+
+"Yes; that's what's the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I'd
+dressed her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found
+up-stairs, and I'd fixed her hair and put on a rose, and she
+looked so pretty. Didn't YOU think she looked just lovely?"
+
+For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his
+voice was so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.
+
+"Yes, Pollyanna, I--I thought she did look--just lovely."
+
+"Did you? I'm so glad! I'll tell her," nodded the little girl,
+contentedly.
+
+To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.
+
+"Never! Pollyanna, I--I'm afraid I shall have to ask you not to
+tell her--that."
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you'd be glad--"
+
+"But she might not be," cut in the doctor.
+
+Pollyanna considered this for a moment.
+
+"That's so--maybe she wouldn't," she sighed. "I remember now;
+'twas 'cause she saw you that she ran. And she--she spoke
+afterwards about her being seen in that rig."
+
+"I thought as much," declared the doctor, under his breath.
+
+"Still, I don't see why," maintained Pollyanna, "--when she
+looked so pretty!"
+
+The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again, indeed, until
+they were almost to the great stone house in which John Pendleton
+lay with a broken leg.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK"
+
+John Pendleton greeted Pollyanna to-day with a smile.
+
+"Well, Miss Pollyanna, I'm thinking you must be a very forgiving
+little person, else you wouldn't have come to see me again
+to-day."
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I'm sure I
+don't see why I shouldn't be, either."
+
+"Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I'm afraid,
+both the other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and
+that time when you found me with the broken leg at first. By the
+way, too, I don't think I've ever thanked you for that. Now I'm
+sure that even you would admit that you were very forgiving to
+come and see me, after such ungrateful treatment as that!"
+
+Pollyanna stirred uneasily.
+
+"But I was glad to find you--that is, I don't mean I was glad
+your leg was broken, of course," she corrected hurriedly.
+
+John Pendleton smiled.
+
+"I understand. Your tongue does get away with you once in a
+while, doesn't it, Miss Pollyanna? I do thank you, however; and I
+consider you a very brave little girl to do what you did that
+day. I thank you for the jelly, too," he added in a lighter
+voice.
+
+"Did you like it?" asked Pollyanna with interest.
+
+"Very much. I suppose--there isn't any more to-day that--that
+Aunt Polly DIDN'T send, is there?" he asked with an odd smile.
+
+His visitor looked distressed.
+
+"N-no, sir."  She hesitated, then went on with heightened color.
+"Please, Mr. Pendleton, I didn't mean to be rude the other day
+when I said Aunt Polly did NOT send the jelly."
+
+There was no answer. John Pendleton was not smiling now. He was
+looking straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing
+through and beyond the object before them. After a time he drew a
+long sigh and turned to Pollyanna. When he spoke his voice
+carried the old nervous fretfulness.
+
+"Well, well, this will never do at all! I didn't send for you to
+see me moping this time. Listen! Out in the library--the big room
+where the telephone is, you know--you will find a carved box on
+the lower shelf of the big case with glass doors in the corner
+not far from the fireplace. That is, it'll be there if that
+confounded woman hasn't 'regulated' it to somewhere else! You may
+bring it to me. It is heavy, but not too heavy for you to carry,
+I think."
+
+"Oh, I'm awfully strong," declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she
+sprang to her feet. In a minute she had returned with the box.
+
+It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then. The box
+was full of treasures--curios that John Pendleton had picked up
+in years of travel--and concerning each there was some
+entertaining story, whether it were a set of exquisitely carved
+chessmen from China, or a little jade idol from India.
+
+It was after she had heard the story about the idol that
+Pollyanna murmured wistfully:
+
+"Well, I suppose it WOULD be better to take a little boy in India
+to bring up--one that didn't know any more than to think that God
+was in that doll-thing--than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a
+little boy who knows God is up in the sky. Still, I can't help
+wishing they had wanted Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys."
+
+John Pendleton did not seem to hear. Again his, eyes were staring
+straight before him, looking at nothing. But soon he had roused
+himself, and had picked up another curio to talk about.
+
+The visit, certainly, was a delightful one, but before it was
+over, Pollyanna was realizing that they were talking about
+something besides the wonderful things in the beautiful carved
+box. They were talking of herself, of Nancy, of Aunt Polly, and
+of her daily life. They were talking, too, even of the life and
+home long ago in the far Western town.
+
+Not until it was nearly time for her to go, did the man say, in a
+voice Pollyanna had never before heard from stern John Pendleton:
+
+"Little girl, I want you to come to see me often. Will you? I'm
+lonesome, and I need you. There's another reason--and I'm going
+to tell you that, too. I thought, at first, after I found out who
+you were, the other day, that I didn't want you to come any more.
+You reminded me of--of something I have tried for long years to
+forget. So I said to myself that I never wanted to see you again;
+and every day, when the doctor asked if I wouldn't let him bring
+you to me, I said no.
+
+"But after a time I found I was wanting to see you so much
+that--that the fact that I WASN'T seeing you was making me
+remember all the more vividly the thing I was so wanting to
+forget. So now I want you to come. Will you--little girl?"
+
+"Why, yes, Mr. Pendleton," breathed Pollyanna, her eyes luminous
+with sympathy for the sad-faced man lying back on the pillow
+before her. "I'd love to come!"
+
+"Thank you," said John Pendleton, gently.
+
+
+After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch,
+told Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box,
+and the still more wonderful things it contained.
+
+"And ter think," sighed Nancy, "that he SHOWED ye all them
+things, and told ye about 'em like that--him that's so cross he
+never talks ter no one--no one!"
+
+"Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside," demurred
+Pollyanna, with quick loyalty. "I don't see why everybody thinks
+he's so bad, either. They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even
+Aunt Polly doesn't like him very well. She wouldn't send the
+jelly to him, you know, and she was so afraid he'd think she did
+send it!"
+
+"Probably she didn't call him no duty," shrugged Nancy. "But what
+beats me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss
+Pollyanna--meanin' no offence ter you, of course--but he ain't
+the sort o' man what gen'rally takes ter kids; he ain't, he
+ain't."
+
+Pollyanna smiled happily.
+
+"But he did, Nancy," she nodded, "only I reckon even he didn't
+want to--ALL the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time
+he just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded
+him of something he wanted to forget. But afterwards--"
+
+"What's that?" interrupted Nancy, excitedly. "He said you
+reminded him of something he wanted to forget?"
+
+"Yes. But afterwards--"
+
+"What was it?"  Nancy was eagerly insistent.
+
+"He didn't tell me. He just said it was something."
+
+"THE MYSTERY!" breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice. "That's why
+he took to you in the first place. Oh, Miss Pollyanna! Why,
+that's just like a book--I've read lots of 'em; 'Lady Maud's
+Secret,' and 'The Lost Heir,' and 'Hidden for Years'--all of 'em
+had mysteries and things just like this. My stars and stockings!
+Just think of havin' a book lived right under yer nose like this
+an' me not knowin' it all this time! Now tell me
+everythin'--everythin' he said, Miss Pollyanna, there's a dear!
+No wonder he took ter you; no wonder--no wonder!"
+
+"But he didn't," cried Pollyanna, "not till _I_ talked to HIM,
+first. And he didn't even know who I was till I took the
+calf's-foot jelly, and had to make him understand that Aunt Polly
+didn't send it, and--"
+
+Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.
+
+"Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know--I KNOW I know!" she exulted
+rapturously. The next minute she was down at Pollyanna's side
+again. "Tell me--now think, and answer straight and true," she
+urged excitedly. "It was after he found out you was Miss Polly's
+niece that he said he didn't ever want ter see ye again, wa'n't
+it?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me
+this to-day."
+
+"I thought as much," triumphed Nancy. "And Miss Polly wouldn't
+send the jelly herself, would she?"
+
+"No."
+
+"And you told him she didn't send it?"
+
+"Why, yes; I--"
+
+"And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out
+you was her niece. He did that, didn't he?"
+
+"Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer--over that jelly,"
+admitted Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.
+
+Nancy drew a long sigh.
+
+"Then I've got it, sure! Now listen. MR. JOHN PENDLETON WAS MISS
+POLLY HARRINGTON'S LOVER!" she announced impressively, but with a
+furtive glance over her shoulder.
+
+"Why, Nancy, he couldn't be! She doesn't like him," objected
+Pollyanna.
+
+Nancy gave her a scornful glance.
+
+"Of course she don't! THAT'S the quarrel!"
+
+Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath
+Nancy happily settled herself to tell the story.
+
+"It's like this. Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly
+had had a lover once. I didn't believe it. I couldn't--her and a
+lover! But Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin' now right
+in this town. And NOW I know, of course. It's John Pendleton.
+Hain't he got a mystery in his life? Don't he shut himself up in
+that grand house alone, and never speak ter no one? Didn't he act
+queer when he found out you was Miss Polly's niece? And now
+hain't he owned up that you remind him of somethin' he wants ter
+forget? Just as if ANYBODY couldn't see 'twas Miss Polly!--an'
+her sayin' she wouldn't send him no jelly, too. Why, Miss
+Pollyanna, it's as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!"
+
+"Oh-h!" breathed Pollyanna, in wide-eyed amazement. "But, Nancy,
+I should think if they loved each other they'd make up some time.
+Both of 'em all alone, so, all these years. I should think they'd
+be glad to make up!"
+
+Nancy sniffed disdainfully.
+
+"I guess maybe you don't know much about lovers, Miss Pollyanna.
+You ain't big enough yet, anyhow. But if there IS a set o' folks
+in the world that wouldn't have no use for that 'ere 'glad game'
+o' your'n, it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers; and that's what
+they be. Ain't he cross as sticks, most gen'rally?--and ain't
+she--"
+
+Nancy stopped abruptly, remembering just in time to whom, and
+about whom, she was speaking. Suddenly, however, she chuckled.
+
+"I ain't sayin', though, Miss Pollyanna, but what it would be a
+pretty slick piece of business if you could GET 'em ter playin'
+it--so they WOULD be glad ter make up. But, my land! wouldn't
+folks stare some--Miss Polly and him! I guess, though, there
+ain't much chance, much chance!"
+
+Pollyanna said nothing; but when she went into the house a little
+later, her face was very thoughtful.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII. PRISMS
+
+As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna went very frequently to
+the great house on Pendleton Hill. She did not feel, however,
+that her visits were really a success. Not but that the man
+seemed to want her there--he sent for her, indeed, frequently;
+but that when she was there, he seemed scarcely any the happier
+for her presence--at least, so Pollyanna thought.
+
+He talked to her, it was true, and he showed her many strange and
+beautiful things--books, pictures, and curios. But he still
+fretted audibly over his own helplessness, and he chafed visibly
+under the rules and "regulatings" of the unwelcome members of his
+household. He did, indeed, seem to like to hear Pollyanna talk,
+however, and Pollyanna talked, Pollyanna liked to talk--but she
+was never sure that she would not look up and find him lying back
+on his pillow with that white, hurt look that always pained her;
+and she was never sure which--if any--of her words had brought it
+there. As for telling him the "glad game," and trying to get him
+to play it--Pollyanna had never seen the time yet when she
+thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
+tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of
+what her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion
+turned the conversation abruptly to another subject.
+
+Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt
+Polly's one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving,
+loyal heart, she wished she could in some way bring happiness
+into their to her mind--miserably lonely lives.
+
+Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She
+talked to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened,
+sometimes politely, sometimes irritably, frequently with a
+quizzical smile on his usually stern lips. She talked to her aunt
+about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she tried to talk to her about
+him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly would not
+listen--long. She always found something else to talk about. She
+frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
+others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this,
+though, to the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her
+in the sun parlor with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl
+draped about her shoulders. Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed
+particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as Pollyanna found out
+one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.
+
+"If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor,"
+Aunt Polly said.
+
+"Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse," gurgled Pollyanna. "I'd
+love to have Dr. Chilton come to see me!"
+
+She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.
+
+"It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna," Miss Polly said sternly.
+"Dr. Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr.
+Warren--if you are worse."
+
+Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not
+summoned.
+
+"And I'm so glad, too," Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening.
+"Of course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr.
+Chilton better, and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have
+him. You see, he wasn't really to blame, after all, that he
+happened to see you when I'd dressed you up so pretty that day,
+Aunt Polly," she finished wistfully.
+
+"That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
+Chilton--or his feelings," reproved Miss Polly, decisively.
+
+Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested
+eyes; then she sighed:
+
+"I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aunt
+Polly; but I would so like to fix your hair. If--Why, Aunt
+Polly!"  But her aunt was already out of sight down the hall.
+
+
+It was toward the end of August that Pollyanna, making an early
+morning call on John Pendleton, found the flaming band of blue
+and gold and green edged with red and violet lying across his
+pillow. She stopped short in awed delight.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, it's a baby rainbow--a real rainbow come in
+to pay you a visit!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together
+softly. "Oh--oh--oh, how pretty it is! But how DID it get in?"
+she cried.
+
+The man laughed a little grimly: John Pendleton was particularly
+out of sorts with the world this morning.
+
+"Well, I suppose it 'got in' through the bevelled edge of that
+glass thermometer in the window," he said wearily. "The sun
+shouldn't strike it at all but it does in the morning."
+
+"Oh, but it's so pretty, Mr. Pendleton! And does just the sun do
+that? My! if it was mine I'd have it hang in the sun all day
+long!"
+
+"Lots of good you'd get out of the thermometer, then," laughed
+the man. "How do you suppose you could tell how hot it was, or
+how cold it was, if the thermometer hung in the sun all day?"
+
+"I shouldn't care," breathed Pollyanna, her fascinated eyes on
+the brilliant band of colors across the pillow. "Just as if
+anybody'd care when they were living all the time in a rainbow!"
+
+The man laughed. He was watching Pollyanna's rapt face a little
+curiously. Suddenly a new thought came to him. He touched the
+bell at his side.
+
+"Nora," he said, when the elderly maid appeared at the door,
+"bring me one of the big brass candle-sticks from the mantel in
+the front drawing-room."
+
+"Yes, sir," murmured the woman, looking slightly dazed. In a
+minute she had returned. A musical tinkling entered the room with
+her as she advanced wonderingly toward the bed. It came from the
+prism pendants encircling the old-fashioned candelabrum in her
+hand.
+
+"Thank you. You may set it here on the stand," directed the man.
+"Now get a string and fasten it to the sash-curtain fixtures of
+that window there. Take down the sash-curtain, and let the string
+reach straight across the window from side to side. That will be
+all. Thank you," he said, when she had carried out his
+directions.
+
+As she left the room he turned smiling eyes toward the wondering
+Pollyanna.
+
+"Bring me the candlestick now, please, Pollyanna."
+
+With both hands she brought it; and in a moment he was slipping
+off the pendants, one by one, until they lay, a round dozen of
+them, side by side, on the bed.
+
+"Now, my dear, suppose you take them and hook them to that little
+string Nora fixed across the window. If you really WANT to live
+in a rainbow--I don't see but we'll have to have a rainbow for
+you to live in!"
+
+Pollyanna had not hung up three of the pendants in the sunlit
+window before she saw a little of what was going to happen. She
+was so excited then she could scarcely control her shaking
+fingers enough to hang up the rest. But at last her task was
+finished, and she stepped back with a low cry of delight.
+
+It had become a fairyland--that sumptuous, but dreary bedroom.
+Everywhere were bits of dancing red and green, violet and orange,
+gold and blue. The wall, the floor, and the furniture, even to
+the bed itself, were aflame with shimmering bits of color.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh, how lovely!" breathed Pollyanna; then she laughed
+suddenly. "I just reckon the sun himself is trying to play the
+game now, don't you?" she cried, forgetting for the moment that
+Mr. Pendleton could not know what she was talking about. "Oh, how
+I wish I had a lot of those things! How I would like to give them
+to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow and--lots of folks. I reckon THEN
+they'd be glad all right! Why, I think even Aunt Polly'd get so
+glad she couldn't help banging doors if she lived in a rainbow
+like that. Don't you?"
+
+Mr. Pendleton laughed.
+
+"Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must
+say I think it would take something more than a few prisms in the
+sunlight to--to make her bang many doors--for gladness. But come,
+now, really, what do you mean?"
+
+Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath.
+
+"Oh, I forgot. You don't know about the game. I remember now."
+
+"Suppose you tell me, then."
+
+And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing
+from the very first--from the crutches that should have been a
+doll. As she talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes
+were still on the dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants
+swaying in the sunlit window.
+
+"And that's all," she sighed, when she had finished. "And now you
+know why I said the sun was trying to play it--that game."
+
+For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed
+said unsteadily:
+
+"Perhaps; but I'm thinking that the very finest prism of them all
+is yourself, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, but I don't show beautiful red and green and purple when the
+sun shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!"
+
+"Don't you?" smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his
+face, wondered why there were tears in his eyes.
+
+"No," she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully:  "I'm
+afraid, Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles
+out of me. Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!"
+
+The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the
+laugh had sounded almost like a sob.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING
+
+Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations
+showed that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and
+she was soon a happy member of a class of girls and boys her own
+age.
+
+School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
+certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school.
+They were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt
+Pollyanna confessed that going to school WAS living, after
+all--though she had had her doubts before.
+
+In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget
+her old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time
+now, of course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps
+John Pendleton, of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.
+
+One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.
+
+"See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with
+me?" he asked, a little impatiently. "I don't see anything of you,
+nowadays."
+
+Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!
+
+"I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round," she said.
+
+He made a wry face.
+
+"Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful
+game of yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never
+mind, I'll be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then
+I'll see who steps around," he finished, picking up one of the
+crutches at his side and shaking it playfully at the little girl.
+They were sitting in the great library to-day.
+
+"Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY
+you are," pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before
+the fire. "You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr.
+Pendleton--you know you don't!"
+
+The man's face grew suddenly very grave.
+
+"That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you
+come?"
+
+Pollyanna turned in surprise.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?"
+
+"But I do. I want you. Will you come?"
+
+Pollyanna looked distressed.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt
+Polly's!"
+
+A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not
+quite understand. His head came up almost fiercely.
+
+"You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me,"
+he finished more gently. "Would you come--if she did?"
+
+Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.
+
+"But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me," she began slowly; "and
+she took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid,
+and--"
+
+Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this
+time, when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.
+
+"Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to
+bring her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be
+together in our home all the long years to come."
+
+"Yes," pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.
+
+"But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just
+didn't that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of
+stone has been a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and
+heart, or a child's presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I
+have not had either. Now will you come, my dear?"
+
+Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton, you--you mean that you wish you--you had had that
+woman's hand and heart all this time?"
+
+"Why, y-yes, Pollyanna."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then it's all right," sighed the little girl.
+"Now you can take us both, and everything will be lovely."
+
+"Take--you--both?" repeated the man, dazedly.
+
+A faint doubt crossed Pollyanna's countenance.
+
+"Well, of course, Aunt Polly isn't won over, yet; but I'm sure
+she will be if you tell it to her just as you did to me, and then
+we'd both come, of course."
+
+A look of actual terror leaped to the man's eyes.
+
+"Aunt Polly come--HERE!"
+
+Pollyanna's eyes widened a little.
+
+"Would you rather go THERE?" she asked. "Of course the house isn't
+quite so pretty, but it's nearer--"
+
+"Pollyanna, what ARE you talking about?" asked the man, very
+gently now.
+
+"Why, about where we're going to live, of course," rejoined
+Pollyanna, in obvious surprise. "I THOUGHT you meant here, at
+first. You said it was here that you had wanted Aunt Polly's hand
+and heart all these years to make a home, and--"
+
+An inarticulate cry came from the man's throat. He raised his
+hand and began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand
+nervelessly at his side.
+
+"The doctor, sir," said the maid in the doorway.
+
+Pollyanna rose at once.
+
+John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.
+
+"Pollyanna, for Heaven's sake, say nothing of what I asked
+you--yet," he begged, in a low voice. Pollyanna dimpled into a
+sunny smile.
+
+"Of course not! Just as if I didn't know you'd rather tell her
+yourself!" she called back merrily over her shoulder.
+
+John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.
+
+"Why, what's up?" demanded the doctor, a minute later, his
+fingers on his patient's galloping pulse.
+
+A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton's lips.
+
+"Overdose of your--tonic, I guess," he laughed, as he noted the
+doctor's eyes following Pollyanna's little figure down the
+driveway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING
+
+Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday
+school. Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with
+Nancy. She had planned one for the day after her Saturday
+afternoon visit to Mr. John Pendleton; but on the way home from
+Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook her in his gig, and brought
+his horse to a stop.
+
+"Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna," he suggested. "I
+want to speak to you a minute. I, was just driving out to your
+place to tell you," he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at
+his side. "Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to
+see him this afternoon, SURE. He says it's very important."
+
+Pollyanna nodded happily.
+
+"Yes, it is, I know. I'll go."
+
+The doctor eyed her with some surprise.
+
+"I'm not sure I shall let you, after all," he declared, his eyes
+twinkling. "You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday,
+young lady."
+
+Pollyanna laughed.
+
+"Oh, it wasn't me, truly--not really, you know; not so much as it
+was Aunt Polly."
+
+The doctor turned with a quick start.
+
+"Your--aunt!" he ejaculated.
+
+Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.
+
+"Yes. And it's so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you
+know. I--I'm going to tell you," she burst out, with sudden
+decision. "He said not to mention it; but he wouldn't mind your
+knowing, of course. He meant not to mention it to HER."
+
+"HER?"
+
+"Yes; Aunt Polly. And, of course he WOULD want to tell her
+himself instead of having me do it--lovers, so!"
+
+"Lovers!"  As the doctor said the word, the horse started
+violently, as if the hand that held the reins had given them a
+sharp jerk.
+
+"Yes," nodded Pollyanna, happily. "That's the story-part, you
+see. I didn't know it till Nancy told me. She said Aunt Polly had
+a lover years ago, and they quarrelled. She didn't know who it
+was at first. But we've found out now. It's Mr. Pendleton, you
+know."
+
+The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell
+limply to his lap.
+
+"Oh! No; I--didn't know," he said quietly.
+
+Pollyanna hurried on--they were nearing the Harrington homestead.
+
+"Yes; and I'm so glad now. It's come out lovely. Mr. Pendleton
+asked me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn't
+leave Aunt Polly like that--after she'd been so good to me. Then
+he told me all about the woman's hand and heart that he used to
+want, and I found out that he wanted it now; and I was so glad!
+For of course if he wants to make up the quarrel, everything will
+be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both go to live
+there, or else he'll come to live with us. Of course Aunt Polly
+doesn't know yet, and we haven't got everything settled; so I
+suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure."
+
+The doctor sat suddenly erect. There was an odd smile on his
+lips.
+
+"Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does--want to
+see you, Pollyanna," he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop
+before the door.
+
+"There's Aunt Polly now in the window," cried Pollyanna; then, a
+second later:  "Why, no, she isn't--but I thought I saw her!"
+
+"No; she isn't there--now," said the doctor, His lips had
+suddenly lost their smile.
+
+Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her
+that afternoon.
+
+"Pollyanna," he began at once. "I've been trying all night to
+puzzle out what you meant by all that, yesterday--about my
+wanting your Aunt Polly's hand and heart here all those years.
+What did you mean?"
+
+"Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad
+you still felt that way now."
+
+"Lovers!--your Aunt Polly and I?"
+
+At the obvious surprise in the man's voice, Pollyanna opened wide
+her eyes.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!"
+
+The man gave a short little laugh.
+
+"Indeed! Well, I'm afraid I shall have to say that Nancy--didn't
+know."
+
+"Then you--weren't lovers?" Pollyanna's voice was tragic with
+dismay.
+
+"Never!"
+
+"And it ISN'T all coming out like a book?"
+
+There was no answer. The man's eyes were moodily fixed out the
+window.
+
+"O dear! And it was all going so splendidly," almost sobbed
+Pollyanna. "I'd have been so glad to come--with Aunt Polly."
+
+"And you won't--now?"  The man asked the question without turning
+his head.
+
+"Of course not! I'm Aunt Polly's."
+
+The man turned now, almost fiercely.
+
+"Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were--your mother's.
+And--it was your mother's hand and heart that I wanted long years
+ago."
+
+"My mother's!"
+
+"Yes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps it's better, after
+all, that I do--now."  John Pendleton's face had grown very
+white. He was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her
+eyes wide and frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him
+fixedly. "I loved your mother; but she--didn't love me. And after
+a time she went away with--your father. I did not know until then
+how much I did--care. The whole world suddenly seemed to turn
+black under my fingers, and--But, never mind. For long years I
+have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable, unloved old man--though
+I'm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, One day, like one of
+the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my
+life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the purple
+and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out,
+after a time, who you were, and--and I thought then I never
+wanted to see you again. I didn't want to be reminded of--your
+mother. But--you know how that came out. I just had to have you
+come. And now I want you always. Pollyanna, won't you come NOW?"
+
+"But, Mr. Pendleton, I--There's Aunt Polly!"  Pollyanna's eyes
+were blurred with tears.
+
+The man made an impatient gesture.
+
+"What about me? How do you suppose I'm going to be 'glad' about
+anything--without you? Why, Pollyanna, it's only since you came
+that I've been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my
+own little girl, I'd be glad for--anything; and I'd try to make
+you glad, too, my dear. You shouldn't have a wish ungratified.
+All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy."
+
+Pollyanna looked shocked.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that
+money you've saved for the heathen!"
+
+A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but
+Pollyanna was still talking.
+
+"Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't
+need me to make you glad about things. You're making other folks
+so glad giving them things that you just can't help being glad
+yourself! Why, look at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me,
+and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her birthday, and--"
+
+"Yes, yes--never mind about all that," interrupted the man. His
+face was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps:  it was not
+for "giving things" that John Pendleton had been best known in
+the past. "That's all nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what
+there was, was because of you. YOU gave those things; not I! Yes,
+you did," he repeated, in answer to the shocked denial in her
+face. "And that only goes to prove all the more how I need you,
+little girl," he added, his voice softening into tender pleading
+once more. "If ever, ever I am to play the 'glad game,'
+Pollyanna, you'll have to come and play it with me."
+
+The little girl's forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
+
+"Aunt Polly has been so good to me," she began; but the man
+interrupted her sharply. The old irritability had come back to
+his face. Impatience which would brook no opposition had been a
+part of John Pendleton's nature too long to yield very easily now
+to restraint.
+
+"Of course she's been good to you! But she doesn't want you, I'll
+warrant, half so much as I do," he contested.
+
+"Why, Mr. Pendleton, she's glad, I know, to have--"
+
+"Glad!" interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now.
+"I'll wager Miss Polly doesn't know how to be glad--for anything!
+Oh, she does her duty, I know. She's a very DUTIFUL woman. I've
+had experience with her 'duty,' before. I'll acknowledge we
+haven't been the best of friends for the last fifteen or twenty
+years. But I know her. Every one knows her--and she isn't the
+'glad' kind, Pollyanna. She doesn't know how to be. As for your
+coming to me--you just ask her and see if she won't let you come.
+And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!" he finished
+brokenly.
+
+Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
+
+"All right. I'll ask her," she said wistfully. "Of course I don't
+mean that I wouldn't like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton,
+but--" She did not complete her sentence. There was a moment's
+silence, then she added:  "Well, anyhow, I'm glad I didn't tell
+her yesterday;--'cause then I supposed SHE was wanted, too."
+
+John Pendleton smiled grimly.
+
+"Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn't
+mention it--yesterday."
+
+"I didn't--only to the doctor; and of course he doesn't count."
+
+"The doctor!" cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.
+"Not--Dr.--Chilton?"
+
+"Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you
+know."
+
+"Well, of all the--" muttered the man, falling back in his chair.
+Then he sat up with sudden interest. "And what did Dr. Chilton
+say?" he asked.
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"Why, I don't remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he
+could well imagine you did want to see me."
+
+"Oh, did he, indeed!" answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna
+wondered why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED
+
+The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an
+approaching thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill
+from John Pendleton's house. Half-way home she met Nancy with an
+umbrella. By that time, however, the clouds had shifted their
+position and the shower was not so imminent.
+
+"Guess it's goin' 'round ter the north," announced Nancy, eyeing
+the sky critically. "I thought 'twas, all the time, but Miss Polly
+wanted me ter come with this. She was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Was she?" murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in
+her turn.
+
+Nancy sniffed a little.
+
+"You don't seem ter notice what I said," she observed
+aggrievedly. "I said yer aunt was WORRIED about ye!"
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was
+so soon to ask her aunt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare her."
+
+"Well, I'm glad," retorted Nancy, unexpectedly. "I am, I am."
+
+Pollyanna stared.
+
+"GLAD that Aunt Polly was scared about me! Why, Nancy, THAT isn't
+the way to play the game--to be glad for things like that!" she
+objected.
+
+"There wa'n't no game in it," retorted Nancy. "Never thought of
+it. YOU don't seem ter sense what it means ter have Miss Polly
+WORRIED about ye, child!"
+
+"Why, it means worried--and worried is horrid--to feel,"
+maintained Pollyanna. "What else can it mean?"
+
+Nancy tossed her head.
+
+"Well, I'll tell ye what it means. It means she's at last gettin'
+down somewheres near human--like folks; an' that she ain't jest
+doin' her duty by ye all the time."
+
+"Why, Nancy," demurred the scandalized Pollyanna, "Aunt Polly
+always does her duty. She--she's a very dutiful woman!"
+Unconsciously Pollyanna repeated John Pendleton's words of half
+an hour before.
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's
+somethin' more, now, since you came."
+
+Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
+
+"There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy," she sighed.
+"Do you think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she
+mind--if if I wasn't here any more?"
+
+Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face.
+She had expected to be asked this question long before, and she
+had dreaded it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how
+she could answer it honestly without cruelly hurting the
+questioner. But now, NOW, in the face of the new suspicions that
+had become convictions by the afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy
+only welcomed the question with open arms. She was sure that,
+with a clean conscience to-day, she could set the love-hungry
+little girl's heart at rest.
+
+"Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?"
+cried Nancy, indignantly. "As if that wa'n't jest what I was
+tellin' of ye! Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella
+'cause she see a little cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote
+yer things all down-stairs, so you could have the pretty room you
+wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye remember how at first she
+hated ter have--"
+
+With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
+
+"And it ain't jest things I can put my fingers on, neither,"
+rushed on Nancy, breathlessly. "It's little ways she has, that
+shows how you've been softenin' her up an' mellerin' her
+down--the cat, and the dog, and the way she speaks ter me, and
+oh, lots o' things. Why, Miss Pollyanna, there ain't no tellin'
+how she'd miss ye--if ye wa'n't here," finished Nancy, speaking
+with an enthusiastic certainty that was meant to hide the
+perilous admission she had almost made before. Even then she was
+not quite prepared for the sudden joy that illumined Pollyanna's
+face.
+
+"Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad--glad--glad! You don't know how glad I am
+that Aunt Polly--wants me!"
+
+"As if I'd leave her now!" thought Pollyanna, as she climbed the
+stairs to her room a little later. "I always knew I wanted to
+live with Aunt Polly--but I reckon maybe I didn't know quite how
+much I wanted Aunt Polly--to want to live with ME!"
+
+The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would not be
+an easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She was very
+fond of John Pendleton, and she was very sorry for him--because
+he seemed to be so sorry for himself. She was sorry, too, for the
+long, lonely life that had made him so unhappy; and she was
+grieved that it had been because of her mother that he had spent
+those dreary years. She pictured the great gray house as it would
+be after its master was well again, with its silent rooms, its
+littered floors, its disordered desk; and her heart ached for his
+loneliness. She wished that somewhere, some one might be found
+who--And it was at this point that she sprang to her feet with a
+little cry of joy at the thought that had come to her.
+
+As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to John
+Pendleton's house; and in due time she found herself in the great
+dim library, with John Pendleton himself sitting near her, his
+long, thin hands lying idle on the arms of his chair, and his
+faithful little dog at his feet.
+
+"Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the 'glad game' with me, all the
+rest of my life?" asked the man, gently.
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "I've thought of the very gladdest
+kind of a thing for you to do, and--"
+
+"With--YOU?" asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing a little
+stern at the corners.
+
+"N-no; but--"
+
+"Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no!" interrupted a voice deep
+with emotion.
+
+"I--I've got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly--"
+
+"Did she REFUSE--to let you--come?"
+
+"I--I didn't ask her," stammered the little girl, miserably.
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna turned away her eyes. She could not meet the hurt,
+grieved gaze of her friend.
+
+"So you didn't even ask her!"
+
+"I couldn't, sir--truly," faltered Pollyanna. "You see, I found
+out--without asking. Aunt Polly WANTS me with her, and--and I
+want to stay, too," she confessed bravely. "You don't know how
+good she's been to me; and--and I think, really, sometimes she's
+beginning to be glad about things--lots of things. And you know
+she never used to be. You said it yourself. Oh, Mr. Pendleton, I
+COULDN'T leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+There was a long pause. Only the snapping of the wood fire in the
+grate broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
+
+"No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now," he said. "I
+won't ask you--again."  The last word was so low it was almost
+inaudible; but Pollyanna heard.
+
+"Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it," she reminded him
+eagerly. "There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there
+is!"
+
+"Not for me, Pollyanna."
+
+"Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand
+and heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get
+it for you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another
+one."
+
+"As if I would have any but you!" resented an indignant voice.
+
+"But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think
+of the prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save
+for the heathen, and--"
+
+"Pollyanna!" interrupted the man, savagely. "Once for all let us
+end that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times
+before. There is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny
+to them in my life. There!"
+
+He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he
+expected--the grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his
+amazement, however, there was neither grief nor disappointment in
+Pollyanna's eyes. There was only surprised joy.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad! That is,"
+she corrected, coloring distressfully, "I don't mean that I'm not
+sorry for the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that
+you don't want the little India boys, because all the rest have
+wanted them. And so I'm glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I
+know you'll take him!"
+
+"Take--WHO?"
+
+"Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be
+so glad to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my
+Ladies' Aid out West wouldn't take him, and he was so
+disappointed. But now--when he hears of this--he'll be so glad!"
+
+"Will he? Well, I won't," ejaculated the man, decisively.
+"Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense!"
+
+"You don't mean--you won't take him?"
+
+"I certainly do mean just that."
+
+"But he'd be a lovely child's presence," faltered Pollyanna. She
+was almost crying now. "And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy
+'round."
+
+"I don't doubt it," rejoined the man; "but--I think I prefer the
+lonesomeness."
+
+It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
+remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
+aggrievedly.
+
+"Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than
+that old dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!"
+
+"SKELETON?"
+
+"Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere."
+
+"Why, what--" Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed.
+He laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began
+to cry from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton
+sat erect very promptly. His face grew grave at once.
+
+"Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know,"
+he said gently. "In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy'
+would be far better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we
+aren't always willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still
+cling to--our skeletons, Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me
+a little more about this nice little boy."  And Pollyanna told
+him.
+
+Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy
+Bean's story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a
+heart already strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna
+went home that night she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy
+Bean himself to call at the great house with Pollyanna the next
+Saturday afternoon.
+
+"And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him," sighed
+Pollyanna, as she said good-by. "I do so want Jimmy Bean to have
+a home--and folks that care, you know."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
+
+On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy
+Bean, the Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the
+Pendleton Woods, hoping that the hushed beauty of God's
+out-of-doors would still the tumult that His children of men had
+wrought.
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford was sick at heart. Month by month, for a year
+past, conditions in the parish under him had been growing worse
+and worse; until it seemed that now, turn which way he would, he
+encountered only wrangling, backbiting, scandal, and jealousy. He
+had argued, pleaded, rebuked, and ignored by turns; and always
+and through all he had prayed--earnestly, hopefully. But to-day
+miserably he was forced to own that matters were no better, but
+rather worse.
+
+Two of his deacons were at swords' points over a silly something
+that only endless brooding had made of any account. Three of his
+most energetic women workers had withdrawn from the Ladies' Aid
+Society because a tiny spark of gossip had been fanned by wagging
+tongues into a devouring flame of scandal. The choir had split
+over the amount of solo work given to a fanciedly preferred
+singer. Even the Christian Endeavor Society was in a ferment of
+unrest owing to open criticism of two of its officers. As to the
+Sunday school--it had been the resignation of its superintendent
+and two of its teachers that had been the last straw, and that
+had sent the harassed minister to the quiet woods for prayer and
+meditation.
+
+Under the green arch of the trees the Rev. Paul Ford faced the
+thing squarely. To his mind, the crisis had come. Something must
+be done--and done at once. The entire work of the church was at a
+standstill. The Sunday services, the week-day prayer meeting, the
+missionary teas, even the suppers and socials were becoming less
+and less well attended. True, a few conscientious workers were
+still left. But they pulled at cross purposes, usually; and
+always they showed themselves to be acutely aware of the critical
+eyes all about them, and of the tongues that had nothing to do
+but to talk about what the eyes saw.
+
+And because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford understood very well
+that he (God's minister), the church, the town, and even
+Christianity itself was suffering; and must suffer still more
+unless--
+
+Clearly something must be done, and done at once. But what?
+
+Slowly the minister took from his pocket the notes he had made
+for his next Sunday's sermon. Frowningly he looked at them. His
+mouth settled into stern lines, as aloud, very impressively, he
+read the verses on which he had determined to speak:
+
+" 'But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye
+shut up the kingdom of heaven against men:  for ye neither go in
+yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.'
+
+" 'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
+widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye
+shall receive the greater damnation.'
+
+" 'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay
+tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the
+weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these
+ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.' "
+
+It was a bitter denunciation. In the green aisles of the woods,
+the minister's deep voice rang out with scathing effect. Even the
+birds and squirrels seemed hushed into awed silence. It brought
+to the minister a vivid realization of how those words would
+sound the next Sunday when he should utter them before his people
+in the sacred hush of the church.
+
+His people!--they WERE his people. Could he do it? Dare he do it?
+Dare he not do it? It was a fearful denunciation, even without
+the words that would follow--his own words. He had prayed and
+prayed. He had pleaded earnestly for help, for guidance. He
+longed--oh, how earnestly he longed!--to take now, in this
+crisis, the right step. But was this--the right step?
+
+Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into
+his pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung
+himself down at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his
+hands.
+
+It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton
+house, found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
+
+"Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or
+anything, have you?" she gasped.
+
+The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried
+to smile.
+
+"No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting."
+
+"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. "That's all right,
+then. You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found
+him--but he was lying down, though. And you are sitting up."
+
+"Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that
+doctors can mend."
+
+The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift
+change crossed her face. Her eyes glowed with tender sympathy.
+
+"I know what you mean--something plagues you. Father used to feel
+like that, lots of times. I reckon ministers do--most generally.
+You see there's such a lot depends on 'em, somehow."
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford turned a little wonderingly.
+
+"Was YOUR father a minister, Pollyanna?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed everybody knew that. He
+married Aunt Polly's sister, and she was my mother."
+
+"Oh, I understand. But, you see, I haven't been here many years,
+so I don't know all the family histories."
+
+"Yes, sir--I mean, no, sir," smiled Pollyanna.
+
+There was a long pause. The minister, still sitting at the foot
+of the tree, appeared to have forgotten Pollyanna's presence. He
+had pulled some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he
+was not looking at them. He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the
+ground a little distance away--and it was not even a pretty leaf.
+It was brown and dead. Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely
+sorry for him.
+
+"It--it's a nice day," she began hopefully.
+
+For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up
+with a start.
+
+"What? Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day."
+
+"And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October," observed
+Pollyanna, still more hopefully. "Mr. Pendleton had a fire, but
+he said he didn't need it. It was just to look at. I like to look
+at fires, don't you?"
+
+There was no reply this time, though Pollyanna waited patiently,
+before she tried again--by a new route.
+
+"Do You like being a minister?"
+
+The Rev. Paul Ford looked up now, very quickly.
+
+"Do I like--Why, what an odd question! Why do you ask that, my
+dear?"
+
+"Nothing--only the way you looked. It made me think of my father.
+He used to look like that--sometimes."
+
+"Did he?"  The minister's voice was polite, but his eyes had gone
+back to the dried leaf on the ground.
+
+"Yes, and I used to ask him just as I did you if he was glad he
+was a minister."
+
+The man under the tree smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Well--what did he say?"
+
+"Oh, he always said he was, of course, but 'most always he said,
+too, that he wouldn't STAY a minister a minute if 'twasn't for
+the rejoicing texts."
+
+"The--WHAT?"  The Rev. Paul Ford's eyes left the leaf and gazed
+wonderingly into Pollyanna's merry little face.
+
+"Well, that's what father used to call 'em," she laughed. "Of
+course the Bible didn't name 'em that. But it's all those that
+begin 'Be glad in the Lord,' or 'Rejoice greatly,' or 'Shout for
+joy,' and all that, you know--such a lot of 'em. Once, when
+father felt specially bad, he counted 'em. There were eight
+hundred of 'em."
+
+"Eight hundred!"
+
+"Yes--that told you to rejoice and be glad, you know; that's why
+father named 'em the 'rejoicing texts.'  "
+
+"Oh!"  There was an odd look on the minister's face. His eyes had
+fallen to the words on the top paper in his hands--"But woe unto
+you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" "And so your
+father--liked those 'rejoicing texts,' " he murmured.
+
+"Oh, yes," nodded Pollyanna, emphatically. "He said he felt
+better right away, that first day he thought to count 'em. He
+said if God took the trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be
+glad and rejoice, He must want us to do it--SOME. And father felt
+ashamed that he hadn't done it more. After that, they got to be
+such a comfort to him, you know, when things went wrong; when the
+Ladies' Aiders got to fight--I mean, when they DIDN'T AGREE about
+something," corrected Pollyanna, hastily. "Why, it was those
+texts, too, father said, that made HIM think of the game--he
+began with ME on the crutches--but he said 'twas the rejoicing
+texts that started him on it."
+
+"And what game might that be?" asked the minister.
+
+"About finding something in everything to be glad about, you
+know. As I said, he began with me on the crutches." And once more
+Pollyanna told her story--this time to a man who listened with
+tender eyes and understanding ears.
+
+A little later Pollyanna and the minister descended the hill,
+hand in hand. Pollyanna's face was radiant. Pollyanna loved to
+talk, and she had been talking now for some time: there seemed to
+be so many, many things about the game, her father, and the old
+home life that the minister wanted to know.
+
+At the foot of the hill their ways parted, and Pollyanna down one
+road, and the minister down another, walked on alone.
+
+In the Rev. Paul Ford's study that evening the minister sat
+thinking. Near him on the desk lay a few loose sheets of
+paper--his sermon notes. Under the suspended pencil in his
+fingers lay other sheets of paper, blank--his sermon to be. But
+the minister was not thinking either of what he had written, or
+of what he intended to write. In his imagination he was far away
+in a little Western town with a missionary minister who was poor,
+sick, worried, and almost alone in the world--but who was poring
+over the Bible to find how many times his Lord and Master had
+told him to "rejoice and be glad."
+
+After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul Ford roused
+himself, came back from the far Western town, and adjusted the
+sheets of paper under his hand.
+
+"Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23," he wrote; then, with a
+gesture of impatience, he dropped his pencil and pulled toward
+him a magazine left on the desk by his wife a few minutes before.
+Listlessly his tired eyes turned from paragraph to paragraph
+until these words arrested them:
+
+"A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, he knew, had refused
+to fill his mother's woodbox that morning:  'Tom, I'm sure you'll
+be glad to go and bring in some wood for your mother.' And
+without a word Tom went. Why? Just because his father showed so
+plainly that he expected him to do the right thing. Suppose he
+had said:  'Tom, I overheard what you said to your mother this
+morning, and I'm ashamed of you. Go at once and fill that
+woodbox!'  I'll warrant that woodbox, would be empty yet, so far
+as Tom was concerned!"
+
+On and on read the minister--a word here, a line there, a
+paragraph somewhere else:
+
+"What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural
+resisting powers should be strengthened, not weakened. . . .
+Instead of always harping on a man's faults, tell him of his
+virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to
+him his better self, his REAL self that can dare and do and win
+out! . . . The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful
+character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town. . . .
+People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a
+man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way,
+too, before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his
+neighbors will return scowl for scowl, and add interest! . . .
+When you look for the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When
+you know you will find the good--you will get that. . . . Tell
+your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox--then
+watch him start, alert and interested!"
+
+The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment
+he was on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back
+and forth. Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and
+dropped himself in the chair at his desk.
+
+"God helping me, I'll do it!" he cried softly. "I'll tell all my
+Toms I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them
+work to do, and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing
+it that they won't have TIME to look at their neighbors'
+woodboxes!"  And he picked up his sermon notes, tore straight
+through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that on one side
+of his chair lay "But woe unto you," and on the other, "scribes
+and Pharisees, hypocrites!" while across the smooth white paper
+before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one black
+line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23."
+
+Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday
+was a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and
+woman and child that heard it; and its text was one of
+Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
+
+"Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy
+all ye that are upright in heart."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
+
+At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's
+office to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had
+forgotten. As it chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the
+inside of Dr. Chilton's office.
+
+"I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't
+it?" she said, looking interestedly about her.
+
+The doctor smiled a little sadly.
+
+"Yes--such as 'tis," he answered, as he wrote something on the
+pad of paper in his hand; "but it's a pretty poor apology for a
+home, Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home."
+
+Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with
+sympathetic understanding.
+
+"I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence
+to make a home," she said.
+
+"Eh?"  The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
+
+"Mr. Pendleton told me," nodded Pollyanna, again; "about the
+woman's hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why
+don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe
+you'd take Jimmy Bean--if Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him."
+
+Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
+
+"So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make
+a home, does he?" he asked evasively.
+
+"Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr.
+Chilton?"
+
+"Why don't I--what?"  The doctor had turned back to his desk.
+
+"Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh--and I forgot."  Pollyanna's
+face showed suddenly a painful color. "I suppose I ought to tell
+you. It wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and
+so we--we aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it
+was--but I made a mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one," she
+finished anxiously.
+
+"No--I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna," replied the doctor, a
+little queerly.
+
+"Oh, that's all right, then," sighed Pollyanna in relief. "You
+see you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton
+looked sort of funny when I said I'd told YOU."
+
+"Did he?"  The doctor's lips twitched.
+
+"Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it--when
+'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart,
+Dr. Chilton?"
+
+There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
+
+"They're not always to be had--for the asking, little girl."
+
+Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
+
+"But I should think you could get 'em," she argued. The
+flattering emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+"Thank you," laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then,
+gravely again:  "I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not
+be quite so--confident. At least, they--they haven't shown
+themselves to be so--obliging," he observed.
+
+Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
+
+"Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean--you didn't try to get
+somebody's hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and--and
+couldn't, did you?"
+
+The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
+
+"There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let
+other people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run
+back now to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the
+medicine, and the directions how she is to take it. Was there
+anything else?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"No, Sir; thank you, Sir," she murmured soberly, as she turned
+toward the door. From the little hallway she called back, her
+face suddenly alight:  "Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's
+hand and heart that you wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton.
+Good-by!"
+
+
+It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred.
+Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an
+apparently safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor
+car.
+
+Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither
+was there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was
+to blame that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock,
+was borne, limp and unconscious, into the little room that was so
+dear to her. There, by a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping
+Nancy she was undressed tenderly and put to bed, while from the
+village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr. Warren was hurrying
+as fast as another motor car could bring him.
+
+"And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face," Nancy
+was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had
+arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; "ye didn't need ter
+more'n look at her aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that
+was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as
+if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death himself, when
+you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they don't, they don't!"
+
+"Is she hurt--bad?"  The old man's voice shook.
+
+"There ain't no tellin'," sobbed Nancy. "She lay back that white
+an' still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't
+dead--an' Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would--she kept
+up such a listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her
+breath!"
+
+"Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?--that--that--"
+Old Tom's face worked convulsively.
+
+Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
+
+"I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good
+an' strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our
+little girl! I always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow--I
+did, I did!"
+
+"But where is she hurt?"
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy. "There's a little cut
+on her blessed head, but 'tain't bad--that ain't--Miss Polly
+says. She says she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt."
+
+A faint flicker came into Old Tom's eyes.
+
+"I guess you mean internally, Nancy," he said dryly. "She's hurt
+infernally, all right--plague take that autymobile!--but I don't
+guess Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same."
+
+"Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know," moaned Nancy, with a
+shake of her head as she turned away. "Seems as if I jest
+couldn't stand it till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I
+had a washin' ter do--the biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I
+do!" she wailed, wringing her hands helplessly.
+
+Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be
+little that Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no
+bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the
+doctor had looked very grave, had shaken his head slowly, and had
+said that time alone could tell. After he had gone, Miss Polly
+had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking than before.
+The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at present
+she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A
+trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That
+was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her
+kitchen.
+
+It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened
+conscious eyes and realized where she was.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't
+I get up?" she cried. "Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up," she
+moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt
+to lift herself.
+
+"No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet," soothed her aunt quickly,
+but very quietly.
+
+"But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?"
+
+Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped
+young woman standing in the window, out of the range of
+Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+The young woman nodded.
+
+"Tell her," the lips said.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that
+would scarcely let her speak.
+
+"You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never
+mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again."
+
+"Hurt? Oh, yes; I--I ran."  Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She
+lifted her hand to her forehead. "Why, it's--done up, and
+it--hurts!"
+
+"Yes, dear; but never mind. Just--just rest."
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel
+so--so queer--only they don't FEEL--at all!"
+
+With an imploring look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly
+struggled to her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward
+quickly.
+
+"Suppose you let me talk to you now," she began cheerily. "I'm
+sure I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm
+going to introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help
+your aunt take care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to
+do is to ask you to swallow these little white pills for me."
+
+Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
+
+"But I don't want to be taken care of--that is, not for long! I
+want to get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school
+to-morrow?"
+
+From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a
+half-stifled cry.
+
+"To-morrow?" smiled the nurse, brightly.
+
+"Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss
+Pollyanna. But just swallow these little pills for me, please,
+and we'll see what THEY'LL do."
+
+"All right," agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; "but I MUST
+go to school day after to-morrow--there are examinations then,
+you know."
+
+She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the
+automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice
+trailed into silence under the blessed influence of the little
+white pills she had swallowed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
+
+Pollyanna did not go to school "to-morrow," nor the "day after
+to-morrow." Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except
+momentarily when a brief period of full consciousness sent
+insistent questions to her lips. Pollyanna did not realize
+anything, in fact, very clearly until a week had passed; then the
+fever subsided, the pain lessened somewhat, and her mind awoke to
+full consciousness. She had then to be told all over again what
+had occurred.
+
+"And so it's hurt that I am, and not sick," she sighed at last.
+"Well, I'm glad of that."
+
+"G-glad, Pollyanna?" asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
+
+"Yes. I'd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton's
+than life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get
+well, and lifelong-invalids don't."
+
+Miss Polly--who had said nothing whatever about broken legs--got
+suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table
+across the room. She was picking up one object after another now,
+and putting each down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her
+usual decisiveness. Her face was not aimless-looking at all,
+however; it was white and drawn.
+
+On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors
+on the ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
+
+"I'm glad it isn't smallpox that ails me, too," she murmured
+contentedly. "That would be worse than freckles. And I'm glad
+'tisn't whooping cough--I've had that, and it's horrid--and I'm
+glad 'tisn't appendicitis nor measles, 'cause they're
+catching--measles are, I mean--and they wouldn't let you stay
+here."
+
+"You seem to--to be glad for a good many things, my dear,"
+faltered Aunt Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her
+collar bound.
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly.
+
+"I am. I've been thinking of 'em--lots of 'em--all the time I've
+been looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. I'm so glad Mr.
+Pendleton gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I haven't
+said yet. I don't know but I'm 'most glad I was hurt."
+
+"Pollyanna!"
+
+Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her
+aunt. "Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you've called me
+'dear' lots of times--and you didn't before. I love to be called
+'dear'--by folks that belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladies'
+Aiders did call me that; and of course that was pretty nice, but
+not so nice as if they had belonged to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt
+Polly, I'm so glad you belong to me!"
+
+Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her
+eyes were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying
+from the room through the door by which the nurse had just
+entered.
+
+
+It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom, who was
+cleaning harnesses in the barn. Her eyes were wild.
+
+"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what's happened," she panted. "You
+couldn't guess in a thousand years--you couldn't, you couldn't!"
+
+"Then I cal'late I won't try," retorted the man, grimly,
+"specially as I hain't got more'n TEN ter live, anyhow, probably.
+You'd better tell me first off, Nancy."
+
+"Well, listen, then. Who do you s'pose is in the parlor now with
+the mistress? Who, I say?"
+
+Old Tom shook his head.
+
+"There's no tellin'," he declared.
+
+"Yes, there is. I'm tellin'. It's--John Pendleton!"
+
+"Sho, now! You're jokin', girl."
+
+"Not much I am--an' me a-lettin' him in myself--crutches an' all!
+An' the team he come in a-waitin' this minute at the door for
+him, jest as if he wa'n't the cranky old crosspatch he is, what
+never talks ter no one! jest think, Mr. Tom--HIM a-callin' on
+HER!"
+
+"Well, why not?" demanded the old man, a little aggressively.
+
+Nancy gave him a scornful glance.
+
+"As if you didn't know better'n me!" she derided.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Oh, you needn't be so innercent," she retorted with mock
+indignation; "--you what led me wildgoose chasin' in the first
+place!"
+
+"What do ye mean?"
+
+Nancy glanced through the open barn door toward the house, and
+came a step nearer to the old man.
+
+"Listen! 'Twas you that was tellin' me Miss Polly had a lover in
+the first place, wa'n't it? Well, one day I thinks I finds two
+and two, and I puts 'em tergether an' makes four. But it turns
+out ter be five--an' no four at all, at all!"
+
+With a gesture of indifference Old Tom turned and fell to work.
+
+"If you're goin' ter talk ter me, you've got ter talk plain horse
+sense," he declared testily. "I never was no hand for figgers."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, it's this," she explained. "I heard somethin' that made me
+think him an' Miss Polly was lovers."
+
+"MR. PENDLETON!"  Old Tom straightened up.
+
+"Yes. Oh, I know now; he wasn't. It was that blessed child's
+mother he was in love with, and that's why he wanted--but never
+mind that part," she added hastily, remembering just in time her
+promise to Pollyanna not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished
+her to come and live with him. "Well, I've been askin' folks
+about him some, since, and I've found out that him an' Miss Polly
+hain't been friends for years, an' that she's been hatin' him
+like pizen owin' ter the silly gossip that coupled their names
+tergether when she was eighteen or twenty."
+
+"Yes, I remember," nodded Old Tom. "It was three or four years
+after Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other
+chap. Miss Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him.
+So she tried ter be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a
+little--she hated that minister chap so who had took off her
+sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter make trouble. They said
+she was runnin' after him."
+
+"Runnin' after any man--her!" interjected Nancy.
+
+"I know it; but they did," declared Old Tom, "and of course no
+gal of any spunk'll stand that. Then about that time come her own
+lover an' the trouble with HIM. After that she shut up like an
+oyster an' wouldn't have nothin' ter do with nobody fur a spell.
+Her heart jest seemed to turn bitter at the core."
+
+"Yes, I know. I've heard about that now," rejoined Nancy; "an'
+that's why you could 'a' knocked me down with a feather when I
+see HIM at the door--him, what she hain't spoke to for years! But
+I let him in an' went an' told her."
+
+"What did she say?"  Old Tom held his breath suspended.
+
+"Nothin'--at first. She was so still I thought she hadn't heard;
+and I was jest goin' ter say it over when she speaks up quiet
+like: 'Tell Mr. Pendleton I will be down at once.'  An' I come
+an' told him. Then I come out here an' told you," finished Nancy,
+casting another backward glance toward the house.
+
+"Humph!" grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
+
+
+In the ceremonious "parlor" of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John
+Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned
+him of Miss Polly's coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a
+gesture of remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and
+her face was coldly reserved.
+
+"I called to ask for--Pollyanna," he began at once, a little
+brusquely.
+
+"Thank you. She is about the same," said Miss Polly.
+
+"And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?" His voice was not
+quite steady this time.
+
+A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
+
+"I can't, I wish I could!"
+
+"You mean--you don't know?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But--the doctor?"
+
+"Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now
+with a New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation
+at once."
+
+"But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?"
+
+"A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury
+to the spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips
+down."
+
+A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then,
+huskily, he asked:
+
+"And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?"
+
+"She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I
+CAN'T tell her."
+
+"But she must know--something!"
+
+Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the
+gesture that had become so common to her of late.
+
+"Oh, yes. She knows she can't--move; but she thinks her legs
+are--broken. She says she's glad it's broken legs like yours
+rather than 'lifelong-invalids' like Mrs. Snow's; because broken
+legs get well, and the other--doesn't. She talks like that all
+the time, until it--it seems as if I should--die!"
+
+Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn
+face opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts
+went back to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final
+plea for her presence: "Oh, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly--now!"
+
+It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he
+could control his voice:
+
+"I wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get
+Pollyanna to come and live with me."
+
+"With YOU!--Pollyanna!"
+
+The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own
+voice was still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
+
+"Yes. I wanted to adopt her--legally, you understand; making her
+my heir, of course."
+
+The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to her,
+suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for
+Pollyanna--this adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old
+enough and mercenary enough--to be tempted by this man's money
+and position.
+
+"I am very fond of Pollyanna," the man was continuing. "I am fond
+of her both for her own sake, and for--her mother's. I stood
+ready to give Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years
+in storage."
+
+"LOVE."  Miss Polly remembered suddenly why SHE had taken this
+child in the first place--and with the recollection came the
+remembrance of Pollyanna's own words uttered that very morning:
+"I love to be called 'dear' by folks that belong to you!" And it
+was this love-hungry little girl that had been offered the
+stored-up affection of twenty-five years:--and she was old enough
+to be tempted by love! With a sinking heart Miss Polly realized
+that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized something else: the
+dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
+
+"Well?" she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that
+vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
+
+"She would not come," he answered.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"She would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her.
+She wanted to stay with you--and she said she THOUGHT you wanted
+her to stay," he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
+
+He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely
+toward the door. But instantly he heard a swift step at his side,
+and found a shaking hand thrust toward him.
+
+"When the specialist comes, and I know anything--definite about
+Pollyanna, I will let you hear from me," said a trembling voice.
+"Good-by--and thank you for coming. Pollyanna will be pleased."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV. A WAITING GAME
+
+On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington
+homestead, Miss Polly set herself to the task of preparing
+Pollyanna for the visit of the specialist.
+
+"Pollyanna, my dear," she began gently, "we have decided that we
+want another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one
+might tell us something new to do--to help you get well faster,
+you know."
+
+A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
+
+"Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton!
+I've wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on
+account of his seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know;
+so I didn't like to say anything. But I'm so glad you do want
+him!"
+
+Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white
+again. But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she
+was trying to speak lightly and cheerfully.
+
+"Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a
+new doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a
+great deal about--about hurts like yours."
+
+Pollyanna's face fell.
+
+"I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton."
+
+"Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear."
+
+"But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
+Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have
+Dr. Chilton--truly I would!"
+
+A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she
+did not speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a
+touch of her old stern decisiveness:
+
+"But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do
+anything--almost anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons
+which I do not care to speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton
+called in on--on this case. And believe me, he can NOT know so
+much about--about your trouble, as this great doctor does, who
+will come from New York to-morrow."
+
+Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
+
+"But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--"
+
+"WHAT, Pollyanna?"  Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her
+cheeks were very red, too.
+
+"I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,"
+sighed Pollyanna, "seems to me that would make some difference in
+the good he would do; and I love Dr. Chilton."
+
+The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to
+her feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
+
+"I am very sorry, Pollyanna," she said, a little stiffly; "but
+I'm afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time.
+Besides, it's already arranged. The New York doctor is coming
+to-morrow."
+
+As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come
+"to-morrow." At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable
+delay owing to the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This
+led Pollyanna into a renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr.
+Chilton--"which would be so easy now, you know."
+
+But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said "no, dear,"
+very decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she
+would do anything--anything but that--to please her dear
+Pollyanna.
+
+As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem
+that Aunt Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do
+to please her niece.
+
+"I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe
+it," Nancy said to Old Tom one morning. "There don't seem ter be
+a minute in the day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round
+waitin' ter do somethin' for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more
+than ter let in the cat--an' her what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff
+up-stairs for love nor money a week ago; an' now she lets 'em
+tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases Miss Pollyanna!
+
+"An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little
+glass danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the
+sun'll make the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it.
+She's sent Timothy down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for
+fresh flowers--an' that besides all the posies fetched in ter
+her, too. An' the other day, if I didn't find her sittin' 'fore
+the bed with the nurse actually doin' her hair, an' Miss
+Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes all
+shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly
+hain't wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please
+that blessed child!"
+
+Old Tom chuckled.
+
+"Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
+worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead," he
+observed dryly.
+
+" 'Course she ain't," retorted Nancy, indignantly. "She looks
+like FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--"
+
+"Keerful, now, Nancy!" interrupted the old man, with a slow grin.
+"You know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once."
+
+Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't
+look like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers
+Miss Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck."
+
+"I told ye so," nodded the man. "I told ye she wa'n't--old."
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of
+it--as she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who
+WAS her A lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I
+hain't!"
+
+"Hain't ye?" asked the old man, with an odd look on his face.
+"Well, I guess ye won't then from me."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now," wheedled the girl. "Ye see, there
+ain't many folks here that I CAN ask."
+
+"Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',"
+grinned Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes.
+"How is she, ter-day--the little gal?"
+
+Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
+
+"Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I
+can see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an'
+talks some, an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets
+or the moon rises, or some other such thing, till it's enough ter
+make yer heart break with achin'."
+
+"I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!" nodded Old Tom,
+blinking a little.
+
+"She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?"
+
+"Oh, yes. She told me long ago."  The old man hesitated, then
+went on, his lips twitching a little. "I was growlin' one day
+'cause I was so bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the
+little thing said?"
+
+"I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about
+THAT ter be glad about!"
+
+"She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have
+ter STOOP SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part
+way over."
+
+Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
+
+"Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
+somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the
+first, 'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it
+with--though she did speak of--her aunt."
+
+"MISS POLLY!"
+
+Nancy chuckled.
+
+"I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the
+mistress than I have," she bridled.
+
+Old Tom stiffened.
+
+"I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her," he
+explained with dignity.
+
+"Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN," retorted Nancy. "I ain't
+sayin' what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress
+now--even that she'd take ter playin' it herself!"
+
+"But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one
+else, I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was
+hurted," said Tom.
+
+"Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly," rejoined Nancy. "Miss
+Pollyanna told me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her
+aunt didn't like ter have her talk about her father; an' 'twas
+her father's game, an' she'd have ter talk about him if she did
+tell it. So she never told her."
+
+"Oh, I see, I see."  The old man nodded his head slowly. "They
+was always bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause
+he took Miss Jennie away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she
+was--couldn't never forgive him; she was that fond of Miss
+Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas a bad mess," he sighed,
+as he turned away.
+
+"Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round," sighed Nancy in her turn,
+as she went back to her kitchen.
+
+For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to
+look cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly
+nervous and impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the
+softening waves of hair about her face, and the becoming laces at
+her throat, could not hide the fact that she was growing thin and
+pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna petted the dog, smoothed the
+cat's sleek head, admired the flowers and ate the fruits and
+jellies that were sent in to her; and returned innumerable cheery
+answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that were
+brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
+nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only
+emphasized the pitiful motionlessness of the once active little
+feet and legs now lying so woefully quiet under the blankets.
+
+As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was
+going to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs.
+Snow, go to call on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr.
+Chilton nor did she seem to realize that all this "gladness" was
+in the future, not the present. Nancy, however, did realize
+it--and cry about it, when she was alone.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI. A DOOR AJAR
+
+Just a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first
+expected, he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind
+gray eyes, and a cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and
+told him so.
+
+"You look quite a lot like MY doctor, you see," she added
+engagingly.
+
+"YOUR doctor?"  Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr.
+Warren, talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a
+small, brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
+
+"Oh, THAT isn't my doctor," smiled Pollyanna, divining his
+thought. "Dr. Warren is Aunt Polly's doctor. My doctor is Dr.
+Chilton."
+
+"Oh-h!" said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss
+Polly, who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
+
+"Yes."  Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual
+truthfulness. "You see, _I_ wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but
+Aunt Polly wanted you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton,
+anyway about--about broken legs like mine. And of course if you
+do, I can be glad for that. Do you?"
+
+A swift something crossed the doctor's face that Pollyanna could
+not quite translate.
+
+"Only time can tell that, little girl," he said gently; then he
+turned a grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the
+bedside.
+
+
+Every one said afterward that it was the cat that did it.
+Certainly, if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose
+against Pollyanna's unlatched door, the door would not have swung
+noiselessly open on its hinges until it stood perhaps a foot
+ajar; and if the door had not been open, Pollyanna would not have
+heard her aunt's words.
+
+In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood
+talking. In Pollyanna's room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed
+with a little purring "meow" of joy when through the open door
+sounded clearly and sharply Aunt Polly's agonized exclamation.
+
+"Not that! Doctor, not that! You don't mean--the child--will
+NEVER WALK again!"
+
+It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came
+Pollyanna's terrified "Aunt Polly Aunt Polly!"  Then Miss Polly,
+seeing the open door and realizing that her words had been heard,
+gave a low little moan and--for the first time in her
+life--fainted dead away.
+
+The nurse, with a choking "She heard!" stumbled toward the open
+door. The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to
+stay--he had caught Miss Polly as she fell. Dr. Warren stood by,
+helplessly. It was not until Pollyanna cried out again sharply
+and the nurse closed the door, that the two men, with a
+despairing glance into each other's eyes, awoke to the immediate
+duty of bringing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to unhappy
+consciousness.
+
+In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on
+the bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced,
+wild-eyed little girl.
+
+"Miss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away,
+quick, please!"
+
+The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face
+was very pale.
+
+"She--she can't come just this minute, dear. She will--a little
+later. What is it? Can't I--get it?"
+
+Pollyanna shook her head.
+
+"But I want to know what she said--just now. Did you hear her? I
+want Aunt Polly--she said something. I want her to tell me
+'tisn't true--'tisn't true!"
+
+The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her
+face sent an added terror to Pollyanna's eyes.
+
+"Miss Hunt, you DID hear her! It is true! Oh, it isn't true! You
+don't mean I can't ever--walk again?"
+
+"There, there, dear--don't, don't!" choked the nurse. "Perhaps he
+didn't know. Perhaps he was mistaken. There's lots of things that
+could happen, you know."
+
+"But Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than
+anybody else about--about broken legs like mine!"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes.
+Just--just don't think any more about it now--please don't,
+dear."
+
+Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. "But I can't help thinking
+about it," she sobbed. "It's all there is now to think about.
+Why, Miss Hunt, how am I going to school, or to see Mr.
+Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or--or anybody?" She caught her breath
+and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly she stopped and looked
+up, a new terror in her eyes. "Why, Miss Hunt, if I can't walk,
+how am I ever going to be glad for--ANYTHING?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not know "the game;" but she did know that her
+patient must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own
+perturbation and heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she
+stood now at the bedside with the quieting powder ready.
+
+"There, there, dear, just take this," she soothed; "and by and by
+we'll be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things
+aren't half as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know."
+
+Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from
+the glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
+
+"I know; that sounds like things father used to say," faltered
+Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. "He said there was always
+something about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd
+never just heard he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how
+there CAN be anything about that, that could be worse--do you?"
+
+Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak
+just then.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
+
+It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr.
+Mead's verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him
+have direct information from the house. To go herself, or to
+write a letter, she felt to be almost equally out of the
+question. It occurred to her then to send Nancy.
+
+There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at
+this extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of
+Mystery and its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to,
+rejoice at anything. She scarcely even looked about her at all,
+indeed, during the few minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton
+to appear.
+
+"I'm Nancy, sir," she said respectfully, in response to the
+surprised questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room.
+"Miss Harrington sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna."
+
+"Well?"
+
+In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite
+understood the anxiety that lay behind that short "well?"
+
+"It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton," she choked.
+
+"You don't mean--" He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
+
+"Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never."
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man
+spoke, in a voice shaken with emotion.
+
+"Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!"
+
+Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not
+supposed that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like
+that. In a moment he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady
+voice.
+
+"It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little
+prism girl!"
+
+There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
+
+"She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?"
+
+"But she does, sir."  sobbed Nancy, "an' that's what makes it all
+the harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,"
+apologized the girl, hurriedly. "It's only that the cat pushed
+open the door an' Miss Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found
+out--that way."
+
+"Poor--little--girl!" sighed the man again.
+
+"Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her," choked
+Nancy. "I hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an'
+it done me up both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to
+her, an' she keeps thinkin' all the time of new things she can't
+do--NOW. It worries her, too, 'cause she can't seem ter be
+glad--maybe you don't know about her game, though," broke off
+Nancy, apologetically.
+
+"The 'glad game'?" asked the man. "Oh, yes; she told me of that."
+
+"Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most
+folks. But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it
+worries her. She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing
+about this not walkin' again, ter be glad about."
+
+"Well, why should she?" retorted the man, almost savagely.
+
+Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
+
+"That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD
+be easier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to
+remind her."
+
+"To remind her! Of what?"  John Pendleton's voice was still
+angrily impatient.
+
+"Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest,
+ye know--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little
+lamb just cries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She
+says it's easy ter TELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but
+'tain't the same thing when you're the lifelong invalid yerself,
+an' have ter try ter do it. She says she's told herself over an'
+over again how glad she is that other folks ain't like her; but
+that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain't really THINKIN' of
+anythin' only how she can't ever walk again."
+
+Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand
+over his eyes.
+
+"Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was
+all the nicer ter play when--when it was hard," resumed Nancy, in
+a dull voice. "But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it
+really IS hard. An' I must be goin', now, sir," she broke off
+abruptly.
+
+At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:
+
+"I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy
+Bean again, I s'pose, sir, could I?"
+
+"I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him," observed the
+man a little shortly. "Why?"
+
+"Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that
+she was feelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see
+you, now. She said she'd taken him once, but she didn't think he
+showed off very well that day, and that she was afraid you didn't
+think he would make a very nice child's presence, after all.
+Maybe you know what she means by that; but I didn't, sir."
+
+"Yes, I know--what she means."
+
+"All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him
+again, she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's
+presence. And now she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer
+pardon, sir. Good-by!" And Nancy fled precipitately.
+
+
+It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to
+learn that the great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier
+would never walk again; and certainly never before had the town
+been so stirred. Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little
+freckled face that had always a smile of greeting; and almost
+everybody knew of the "game" that Pollyanna was playing. To think
+that now never again would that smiling face be seen on their
+streets--never again would that cheery little voice proclaim the
+gladness of some everyday experience! It seemed unbelievable,
+impossible, cruel.
+
+In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women
+talked of it, and wept openly. On street corners and in store
+lounging-places the men talked, too, and wept--though not so
+openly. And neither the talking nor the weeping grew less when
+fast on the heels of the news itself, came Nancy's pitiful story
+that Pollyanna, face to face with what had come to her, was
+bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not play the game;
+that she could not now be glad over--anything.
+
+It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come to
+Pollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress
+of the Harrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to
+receive calls:  calls from people she knew, and people she did
+not know; calls from men, women, and children--many of whom Miss
+Polly had not supposed that her niece knew at all.
+
+Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some
+stood awkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or
+hand-bags, according to their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch
+of flowers, or a dainty to tempt the palate. Some cried frankly.
+Some turned their backs and blew their noses furiously. But all
+inquired very anxiously for the little injured girl; and all sent
+to her some message--and it was these messages which, after a
+time, stirred Miss Polly to action.
+
+First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches
+to-day.
+
+"I don't need to tell you how shocked I am," he began almost
+harshly. "But can--nothing be done?"
+
+Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.
+
+"Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed
+certain treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren
+is carrying them out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held
+out almost no hope."
+
+John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His
+face was white, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss
+Polly, looking at him, knew very well why he felt that he could
+not stay longer in her presence. At the door he turned.
+
+"I have a message for Pollyanna," he said. "Will you tell her,
+please, that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my
+boy hereafter. Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I
+shall adopt him, probably."
+
+For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred
+self-control.
+
+"You will adopt Jimmy Bean!" she gasped.
+
+The man lifted his chin a little.
+
+"Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I
+thought she would be--GLAD!"
+
+"Why, of--of course," faltered Miss Polly.
+
+"Thank you," bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.
+
+In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed,
+still looking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she
+could scarcely believe what her ears had heard. John Pendleton
+ADOPT Jimmy Bean? John Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose,
+reputed to be miserly and supremely selfish, to adopt a little
+boy--and such a little boy?
+
+With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to
+Pollyanna's room.
+
+"Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He
+has just been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean
+for his little boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it."
+
+Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.
+
+"Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so
+wanted to find a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place!
+Besides, I'm so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll
+have the child's presence."
+
+"The--what?"
+
+Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never
+told her aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and
+certainly she would not wish to tell her now that she had ever
+thought for a minute of leaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!
+
+"The child's presence," stammered Pollyanna, hastily. "Mr.
+Pendleton told me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and
+heart or a child's presence could make a--a home. And now he's
+got it--the child's presence."
+
+"Oh, I--see," said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more
+than Pollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that
+was probably brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time
+John Pendleton was asking HER to be the "child's presence," which
+was to transform his great pile of gray stone into a home. "I
+see," she finished, her eyes stinging with sudden tears.
+
+Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassing
+questions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the
+Pendleton house and its master.
+
+"Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and
+heart, or a child's presence, to make a home, you know," she
+remarked.
+
+Miss Polly turned with a start.
+
+"DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?"
+
+"He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you
+know--not a home."
+
+Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.
+
+"So I asked him why he didn't get 'em.--a woman's hand and heart,
+and have a home."
+
+"Pollyanna!"  Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a
+sudden color.
+
+"Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful."
+
+"What did he--say?"  Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite
+of some force within her that was urging her not to ask it.
+
+"He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that
+you couldn't always get 'em for the asking."
+
+There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to
+the window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.
+
+Pollyanna sighed.
+
+"He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one."
+
+"Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?"
+
+"Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He
+said that low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all
+the world if he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt
+Polly, what's the matter?"  Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and
+gone to the window.
+
+"Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism," said
+Aunt Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
+
+It was not long after John Pendleton's second visit that Milly
+Snow called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to
+the Harrington homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed
+when Miss Polly entered the room.
+
+"I--I came to inquire for the little girl," she stammered.
+
+"You are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?"
+rejoined Miss Polly, wearily.
+
+"That is what I came to tell you--that is, to ask you to tell
+Miss Pollyanna," hurried on the girl, breathlessly and
+incoherently. "We think it's--so awful--so perfectly awful that
+the little thing can't ever walk again; and after all she's done
+for us, too--for mother, you know, teaching her to play the game,
+and all that. And when we heard how now she couldn't play it
+herself--poor little dear! I'm sure I don't see how she CAN,
+either, in her condition!--but when we remembered all the things
+she'd said to us, we thought if she could only know what she HAD
+done for us, that it would HELP, you know, in her own case, about
+the game, because she could be glad--that is, a little glad--"
+Milly stopped helplessly, and seemed to be waiting for Miss Polly
+to speak.
+
+Miss Polly had sat politely listening, but with a puzzled
+questioning in her eyes. Only about half of what had been said,
+had she understood. She was thinking now that she always had
+known that Milly Snow was "queer," but she had not supposed she
+was crazy. In no other way, however, could she account for this
+incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words. When the pause
+came she filled it with a quiet:
+
+"I don't think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that
+you want me to tell my niece?"
+
+"Yes, that's it; I want you to tell her," answered the girl,
+feverishly. "Make her see what she's done for us. Of course she's
+SEEN some things, because she's been there, and she's known
+mother is different; but I want her to know HOW different she
+is--and me, too. I'm different. I've been trying to play it--the
+game--a little."
+
+Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this
+"game," but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again
+with nervous volubility.
+
+"You know nothing was ever right before--for mother. She was
+always wanting 'em different. And, really, I don't know as one
+could blame her much--under the circumstances. But now she lets
+me keep the shades up, and she takes interest in things--how she
+looks, and her nightdress, and all that. And she's actually begun
+to knit little things--reins and baby blankets for fairs and
+hospitals. And she's so interested, and so GLAD to think she can
+do it!--and that was all Miss Pollyanna's doings, you know,
+'cause she told mother she could be glad she'd got her hands and
+arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she
+didn't DO something with her hands and arms. And so she began to
+do something--to knit, you know. And you can't think what a
+different room it is now, what with the red and blue and yellow
+worsteds, and the prisms in the window that SHE gave her--why, it
+actually makes you feel BETTER just to go in there now; and
+before I used to dread it awfully, it was so dark and gloomy, and
+mother was so--so unhappy, you know.
+
+"And so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we
+understand it's all because of her. And please say we're so glad
+we know her, that we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make
+her a little glad that she knew us. And--and that's all," sighed
+Milly, rising hurriedly to her feet. "You'll tell her?"
+
+"Why, of course," murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of
+this remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
+
+These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first
+of many; and always there were the messages--the messages which
+were in some ways so curious that they caused Miss Polly more and
+more to puzzle over them.
+
+One day there was the little Widow Benton. Miss Polly knew her
+well, though they had never called upon each other. By reputation
+she knew her as the saddest little woman in town--one who was
+always in black. To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale
+blue at the throat, though there were tears in her eyes. She
+spoke of her grief and horror at the accident; then she asked
+diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly shook her head.
+
+"I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little later--perhaps."
+
+Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she
+had almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
+
+"Miss Harrington, perhaps, you'd give her--a message," she
+stammered.
+
+"Certainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to."
+
+Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
+
+"Will you tell her, please, that--that I've put on THIS," she
+said, just touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss
+Polly's ill-concealed look of surprise, she added: "The little
+girl has been trying for so long to make me wear--some color,
+that I thought she'd be--glad to know I'd begun. She said that
+Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would. You know Freddy's
+ALL I have now. The others have all--" Mrs. Benton shook her head
+and turned away. "If you'll just tell Pollyanna--SHE'LL
+understand."  And the door closed after her.
+
+A little later, that same day, there was the other widow--at
+least, she wore widow's garments. Miss Polly did not know her at
+all. She wondered vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The
+lady gave her name as "Mrs. Tarbell."
+
+"I'm a stranger to you, of course," she began at once. "But I'm
+not a stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. I've been at the
+hotel all summer, and every day I've had to take long walks for
+my health. It was on these walks that I've met your niece--she's
+such a dear little girl! I wish I could make you understand what
+she's been to me. I was very sad when I came up here; and her
+bright face and cheery ways reminded me of--my own little girl
+that I lost years ago. I was so shocked to hear of the accident;
+and then when I learned that the poor child would never walk
+again, and that she was so unhappy because she couldn't be glad
+any longer--the dear child!--I just had to come to you."
+
+"You are very kind," murmured Miss Polly.
+
+"But it is you who are to be kind," demurred the other. "I--I
+want you to give her a message from me. Will you?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Will you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now.
+Yes, I know it sounds odd, and you don't understand. But--if
+you'll pardon me I'd rather not explain." Sad lines came to the
+lady's mouth, and the smile left her eyes. "Your niece will know
+just what I mean; and I felt that I must tell--her. Thank you;
+and pardon me, please, for any seeming rudeness in my call," she
+begged, as she took her leave.
+
+Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to
+Pollyanna's room.
+
+"Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?"
+
+"Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and
+she's at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I
+mean--we used to."  Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears
+rolled down her cheeks.
+
+Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
+
+"We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for
+you--but she wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you
+that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
+
+"Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!"
+
+"But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?"
+
+"Why, it's the game, and--" Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers
+to her lips.
+
+"What game?"
+
+"N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I
+tell other things that--that I'm not to speak of."
+
+It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but
+the obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words
+before they were uttered.
+
+Not long after Mrs. Tarbell's visit, the climax came. It came in
+the shape of a call from a certain young woman with unnaturally
+pink cheeks and abnormally yellow hair; a young woman who wore
+high heels and cheap jewelry; a young woman whom Miss Polly knew
+very well by reputation--but whom she was angrily amazed to meet
+beneath the roof of the Harrington homestead.
+
+Miss Polly did not offer her hand. She drew back, indeed, as she
+entered the room.
+
+The woman rose at once. Her eyes were very red, as if she had
+been crying. Half defiantly she asked if she might, for a moment,
+see the little girl, Pollyanna.
+
+Miss Polly said no. She began to say it very sternly; but
+something in the woman's pleading eyes made her add the civil
+explanation that no one was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
+
+The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin
+was still at a slightly defiant tilt.
+
+"My name is Mrs. Payson--Mrs. Tom Payson. I presume you've heard
+of me--most of the good people in the town have--and maybe some
+of the things you've heard ain't true. But never mind that. It's
+about the little girl I came. I heard about the accident,
+and--and it broke me all up. Last week I heard how she couldn't
+ever walk again, and--and I wished I could give up my two
+uselessly well legs for hers. She'd do more good trotting around
+on 'em one hour than I could in a hundred years. But never mind
+that. Legs ain't always given to the one who can make the best
+use of 'em, I notice."
+
+She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her
+voice was still husky.
+
+"Maybe you don't know it, but I've seen a good deal of that
+little girl of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she
+used to go by often--only she didn't always GO BY. She came in
+and played with the kids and talked to me--and my man, when he
+was home. She seemed to like it, and to like us. She didn't know,
+I suspect, that her kind of folks don't generally call on my
+kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss Harrington, there
+wouldn't be so many--of my kind," she added, with sudden
+bitterness.
+
+"Be that as it may, she came; and she didn't do herself no harm,
+and she did do us good--a lot o' good. How much she won't
+know--nor can't know, I hope; 'cause if she did, she'd know other
+things--that I don't want her to know.
+
+"But it's just this. It's been hard times with us this year, in
+more ways than one. We've been blue and discouraged--my man and
+me, and ready for--'most anything. We was reckoning on getting a
+divorce about now, and letting the kids well, we didn't know what
+we would do with the kids, Then came the accident, and what we
+heard about the little girl's never walking again. And we got to
+thinking how she used to come and sit on our doorstep and train
+with the kids, and laugh, and--and just be glad. She was always
+being glad about something; and then, one day, she told us why,
+and about the game, you know; and tried to coax us to play it.
+
+"Well, we've heard now that she's fretting her poor little life
+out of her, because she can't play it no more--that there's
+nothing to be glad about. And that's what I came to tell her
+to-day--that maybe she can be a little glad for us, 'cause we've
+decided to stick to each other, and play the game ourselves. I
+knew she would be glad, because she used to feel kind of bad--at
+things we said, sometimes. Just how the game is going to help us,
+I can't say that I exactly see, yet; but maybe 'twill. Anyhow,
+we're going to try--'cause she wanted us to. Will you tell her?"
+
+"Yes, I will tell her," promised Miss Polly, a little faintly.
+Then, with sudden impulse, she stepped forward and held out her
+hand. "And thank you for coming, Mrs. Payson," she said simply.
+
+The defiant chin fell. The lips above it trembled visibly. With
+an incoherently mumbled something, Mrs. Payson blindly clutched
+at the outstretched hand, turned, and fled.
+
+The door had scarcely closed behind her before Miss Polly was
+confronting Nancy in the kitchen.
+
+"Nancy!"
+
+Miss Polly spoke sharply. The series of puzzling, disconcerting
+visits of the last few days, culminating as they had in the
+extraordinary experience of the afternoon, had strained her
+nerves to the snapping point. Not since Miss Pollyanna's accident
+had Nancy heard her mistress speak so sternly.
+
+"Nancy, WILL you tell me what this absurd 'game' is that the
+whole town seems to be babbling about? And what, please, has my
+niece to do with it? WHY does everybody, from Milly Snow to Mrs.
+Tom Payson, send word to her that they're 'playing it'? As near
+as I can judge, half the town are putting on blue ribbons, or
+stopping family quarrels, or learning to like something they
+never liked before, and all because of Pollyanna. I tried to ask
+the child herself about it, but I can't seem to make much
+headway, and of course I don't like to worry her--now. But from
+something I heard her say to you last night, I should judge you
+were one of them, too. Now WILL you tell me what it all means?"
+
+To Miss Polly's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
+
+"It means that ever since last June that blessed child has jest
+been makin' the whole town glad, an' now they're turnin' 'round
+an' tryin' ter make her a little glad, too."
+
+"Glad of what?"
+
+"Just glad! That's the game."
+
+Miss Polly actually stamped her foot.
+
+"There you go like all the rest, Nancy. What game?"
+
+Nancy lifted her chin. She faced her mistress and looked her
+squarely in the eye.
+
+"I'll tell ye, ma'am. It's a game Miss Pollyanna's father learned
+her ter play. She got a pair of crutches once in a missionary
+barrel when she was wantin' a doll; an' she cried, of course,
+like any child would. It seems 'twas then her father told her
+that there wasn't ever anythin' but what there was somethin'
+about it that you could be glad about; an' that she could be glad
+about them crutches."
+
+"Glad for--CRUTCHES!"  Miss Polly choked back a sob--she was
+thinking of the helpless little legs on the bed up-stairs.
+
+"Yes'm. That's what I said, an' Miss Pollyanna said that's what
+she said, too. But he told her she COULD be glad--'cause she
+DIDN'T NEED 'EM."
+
+"Oh-h!" cried Miss Polly.
+
+"And after that she said he made a regular game of it--findin'
+somethin' in everythin' ter be glad about. An' she said ye could
+do it, too, and that ye didn't seem ter mind not havin' the doll
+so much, 'cause ye was so glad ye DIDN'T need the crutches. An'
+they called it the 'jest bein' glad' game. That's the game,
+ma'am. She's played it ever since."
+
+"But, how--how--" Miss Polly came to a helpless pause.
+
+"An' you'd be surprised ter find how cute it works, ma'am, too,"
+maintained Nancy, with almost the eagerness of Pollyanna herself.
+"I wish I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' the
+folks out home. She's been ter see 'em, ye know, twice, with me.
+She's made me glad, too, on such a lot o' things--little things,
+an' big things; an' it's made 'em so much easier. For instance, I
+don't mind 'Nancy' for a name half as much since she told me I
+could be glad 'twa'n't 'Hephzibah.' An' there's Monday mornin's,
+too, that I used ter hate so. She's actually made me glad for
+Monday mornin's."
+
+"Glad--for Monday mornings!"
+
+Nancy laughed.
+
+"I know it does sound nutty, ma'am. But let me tell ye. That
+blessed lamb found out I hated Monday mornin's somethin' awful;
+an' what does she up an' tell me one day but this: 'Well, anyhow,
+Nancy, I should think you could be gladder on Monday mornin' than
+on any other day in the week, because 'twould be a whole WEEK
+before you'd have another one!'  An' I'm blest if I hain't
+thought of it ev'ry Monday mornin' since--an' it HAS helped,
+ma'am. It made me laugh, anyhow, ev'ry time I thought of it; an'
+laughin' helps, ye know--it does, it does!"
+
+"But why hasn't--she told me--the game?" faltered Miss Polly.
+"Why has she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?"
+
+Nancy hesitated.
+
+"Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, you told her not ter speak of--her
+father; so she couldn't tell ye. 'Twas her father's game, ye
+see."
+
+Miss Polly bit her lip.
+
+"She wanted ter tell ye, first off," continued Nancy, a little
+unsteadily. "She wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know.
+That's why I begun it, so she could have some one."
+
+"And--and--these others?"  Miss Polly's voice shook now.
+
+"Oh, ev'rybody, 'most, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should
+think they did from the way I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere I go. Of
+course she told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye
+know, when they gets started. An' she was always so smilin' an'
+pleasant ter ev'ry one, an' so--so jest glad herself all the
+time, that they couldn't help knowin' it, anyhow. Now, since
+she's hurt, ev'rybody feels so bad--specially when they heard how
+bad SHE feels 'cause she can't find anythin' ter be glad about.
+An' so they've been comin' ev'ry day ter tell her how glad she's
+made THEM, hopin' that'll help some. Ye see, she's always wanted
+ev'rybody ter play the game with her."
+
+"Well, I know somebody who'll play it--now," choked Miss Polly,
+as she turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
+
+Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
+
+"Well, I'll believe anythin'--anythin' now," she muttered to
+herself. "Ye can't stump me with anythin' I wouldn't believe,
+now--o' Miss Polly!"
+
+A little later, in Pollyanna's room, the nurse left Miss Polly
+and Pollyanna alone together.
+
+"And you've had still another caller to-day, my dear," announced
+Miss Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. "Do you
+remember Mrs. Payson?"
+
+"Mrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr.
+Pendleton's, and she's got the prettiest little girl baby three
+years old, and a boy 'most five. She's awfully nice, and so's her
+husband--only they don't seem to know how nice each other is.
+Sometimes they fight--I mean, they don't quite agree. They're
+poor, too, they say, and of course they don't ever have barrels,
+'cause he isn't a missionary minister, you know, like--well, he
+isn't."
+
+A faint color stole into Pollyanna's cheeks which was duplicated
+suddenly in those of her aunt.
+
+"But she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their
+being so poor," resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. "And she's got
+perfectly beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds
+in them; but she says she's got one ring too many, and that she's
+going to throw it away and get a divorce instead. What is a
+divorce, Aunt Polly? I'm afraid it isn't very nice, because she
+didn't look happy when she talked about it. And she said if she
+did get it, they wouldn't live there any more, and that Mr.
+Payson would go 'way off, and maybe the children, too. But I
+should think they'd rather keep the ring, even if they did have
+so many more. Shouldn't you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?"
+
+"But they aren't going 'way off, dear," evaded Aunt Polly,
+hurriedly. "They're going to stay right there together."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! Then they'll be there when I go up to see--O
+dear!" broke off the little girl, miserably. "Aunt Polly, why
+CAN'T I remember that my legs don't go any more, and that I won't
+ever, ever go up to see Mr. Pendleton again?"
+
+"There, there, don't," choked her aunt. "Perhaps you'll drive up
+sometime. But listen! I haven't told you, yet, all that Mrs.
+Payson said. She wanted me to tell you that they--they were going
+to stay together and to play the game, just as you wanted them
+to."
+
+Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
+
+"Did they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!"
+
+"Yes, she said she hoped you'd be. That's why she told you, to
+make you--GLAD, Pollyanna."
+
+Pollyanna looked up quickly.
+
+"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you spoke just as if you knew--DO you know
+about the game, Aunt Polly?"
+
+"Yes, dear."  Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be
+cheerfully matter-of-fact. "Nancy told me. I think it's a
+beautiful game. I'm going to play it now--with you."
+
+"Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted
+you most of anybody, all the time."
+
+Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder
+this time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
+
+"Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna,
+I think all the town is playing that game now with you--even to
+the minister! I haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this
+morning I met Mr. Ford when I was down to the village, and he
+told me to say to you that just as soon as you could see him, he
+was coming to tell you that he hadn't stopped being glad over
+those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told him about. So
+you see, dear, it's just you that have done it. The whole town is
+playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happier--and
+all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game,
+and how to play it."
+
+Pollyanna clapped her hands.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad," she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
+illumined her face. "Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
+glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs,
+anyway--else I couldn't have done--that!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
+
+One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
+short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain.
+Very resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a
+cheerful face toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound
+to play the game, now that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And
+Aunt Polly found so many things to be glad about! It was Aunt
+Polly, too, who discovered the story one day about the two poor
+little waifs in a snow-storm who found a blown-down door to crawl
+under, and who wondered what poor folks did that didn't have any
+door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the other story that
+she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two teeth, but
+who was so glad that those two teeth "hit"!
+
+Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out
+of bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths
+across the white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs.
+Snow--so glad she had her hands and arms, anyway.
+
+Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the
+loving messages from those she could not see; and always they
+brought her something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed
+new things to think about.
+
+Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy
+Bean. John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was
+getting to be, and how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what
+a first-rate home he had, and what bang-up "folks" Mr. Pendleton
+made; and both had said that it was all owing to her.
+
+"Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my
+legs," Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
+
+
+The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
+Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the
+prescribed treatment. There seemed every reason to believe,
+indeed, that Dr. Mead's worst fears would be realized--that
+Pollyanna would never walk again.
+
+Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning
+Pollyanna; and of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and
+fretted himself into a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins
+which he managed in some way to procure from the bed of
+suffering. As the days passed, however, and the news came to be
+no better, but rather worse, something besides anxiety began to
+show in the man's face:  despair, and a very dogged
+determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the
+dogged determination won; and it was then that Mr. John
+Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise, received one Saturday
+morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.
+
+"Pendleton," began the doctor, abruptly, "I've come to you
+because you, better than any one else in town, know something of
+my relations with Miss Polly Harrington."
+
+John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started
+visibly--he did know something of the affair between Polly
+Harrington and Thomas Chilton, but the matter had not been
+mentioned between them for fifteen years, or more.
+
+"Yes," he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough
+for sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he
+saw that he need not have worried, however: the doctor was quite
+too intent on his errand to notice how that errand was received.
+
+"Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an
+examination. I MUST make an examination."
+
+"Well--can't you?"
+
+"CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside
+that door for more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will
+tell you--that the mistress of that house told me that the NEXT
+time she ASKED me to enter it, I might take it that she was
+begging my pardon, and that all would be as before--which meant
+that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see her summoning me now--but I
+don't!"
+
+"But couldn't you go--without a summons?"
+
+The doctor frowned.
+
+"Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know."
+
+"But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and
+forget the quarrel--"
+
+"Forget the quarrel!" interrupted the doctor, savagely. "I'm not
+talking of that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd
+go from here there on my knees--or on my head--if that would do
+any good. It's PROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case
+of sickness, and I'm a doctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here,
+take me!'can I?"
+
+"Chilton, what was the quarrel?" demanded Pendleton.
+
+The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.
+
+"What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?" he
+snarled, pacing the room angrily. "A silly wrangle over the size
+of the moon or the depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be,
+so far as its having any real significance compared to the years
+of misery that follow them! Never mind the quarrel! So far as I
+am concerned, I am willing to say there was no quarrel.
+Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life or death. It
+will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten that
+Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!"
+
+The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken
+just as the one who uttered them had almost reached the open
+window near John Pendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very
+distinctly they reached the ears of a small boy kneeling beneath
+the window on the ground outside.
+
+Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first
+little green weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes
+wide open.
+
+"Walk! Pollyanna!"  John Pendleton was saying. "What do you
+mean?"
+
+"I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from her
+bedside--that her case is very much like one that a college
+friend of mine has just helped. For years he's been making this
+sort of thing a special study. I've kept in touch with him, and
+studied, too, in a way. And from what I hear--but I want to SEE
+the girl!"
+
+John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
+
+"You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?"
+
+The other shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told me
+himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first,
+but--Miss Harrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare
+venture it again, even though he knew of my desire to see the
+child. Lately, some of his best patients have come over to me--so
+of course that ties my hands still more effectually. But,
+Pendleton, I've got to see that child! Think of what it may mean
+to her--if I do!"
+
+"Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!" retorted
+Pendleton.
+
+"But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which
+I'll never get!"
+
+"She must be made to ask you!"
+
+"How?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too
+angry to ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if
+she did ask me. But when I think of that child, doomed to
+lifelong misery, and when I think that maybe in my hands lies a
+chance of escape, but for that confounded nonsense we call pride
+and professional etiquette, I--" He did not finish his sentence,
+but with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, he turned and
+began to tramp up and down the room again, angrily.
+
+"But if she could be made to see--to understand," urged John
+Pendleton.
+
+"Yes; and who's going to do it?" demanded the doctor, with a
+savage turn.
+
+"I don't know, I don't know," groaned the other, miserably.
+
+Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he had
+scarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.
+
+"Well, by Jinks, I know!" he whispered, exultingly. "I'M a-goin'
+ter do it!"  And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily
+around the corner of the house, and ran with all his might down
+Pendleton Hill.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM
+
+"It's Jimmy Bean. He wants ter see ye, ma'am," announced Nancy in
+the doorway.
+
+"Me?" rejoined Miss Polly, plainly surprised. "Are you sure he
+did not mean Miss Pollyanna? He may see her a few minutes to-day,
+if he likes."
+
+"Yes'm. I told him. But he said it was you he wanted."
+
+"Very well, I'll come down."  And Miss Polly arose from her chair
+a little wearily.
+
+In the sitting room she found waiting for her a round-eyed,
+flushed-faced boy, who began to speak at once.
+
+"Ma'am, I s'pose it's dreadful--what I'm doin', an' what I'm
+sayin'; but I can't help it. It's for Pollyanna, and I'd walk
+over hot coals for her, or face you, or--or anythin' like that,
+any time. An' I think you would, too, if you thought there was a
+chance for her ter walk again. An' so that's why I come ter tell
+ye that as long as it's only pride an' et--et-somethin' that's
+keepin' Pollyanna from walkin', why I knew you WOULD ask Dr.
+Chilton here if you understood--"
+
+"Wh-at?" interrupted Miss Polly, the look of stupefaction on her
+face changing to one of angry indignation.
+
+Jimmy sighed despairingly.
+
+"There, I didn't mean ter make ye mad. That's why I begun by
+tellin' ye about her walkin' again. I thought you'd listen ter
+that."
+
+"Jimmy, what are you talking about?"
+
+Jimmy sighed again.
+
+"That's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye."
+
+"Well, then tell me. But begin at the beginning, and be sure I
+understand each thing as you go. Don't plunge into the middle of
+it as you did before--and mix everything all up!"
+
+Jimmy wet his lips determinedly.
+
+"Well, ter begin with, Dr. Chilton come ter see Mr. Pendleton,
+an' they talked in the library. Do you understand that?"
+
+"Yes, Jimmy."  Miss Polly's voice was rather faint.
+
+"Well, the window was open, and I was weedin' the flower-bed
+under it; an' I heard 'em talk."
+
+"Oh, Jimmy! LISTENING?"
+
+" 'Twa'n't about me, an' 'twa'n't sneak listenin'," bridled
+Jimmy. "And I'm glad I listened. You will be when I tell ye. Why,
+it may make Pollyanna--walk!"
+
+"Jimmy, what do you mean?"  Miss Polly was leaning forward
+eagerly.
+
+"There, I told ye so," nodded Jimmy, contentedly. "Well, Dr.
+Chilton knows some doctor somewhere that can cure Pollyanna, he
+thinks--make her walk, ye know; but he can't tell sure till he
+SEES her. And he wants ter see her somethin' awful, but he told
+Mr. Pendleton that you wouldn't let him."
+
+Miss Polly's face turned very red.
+
+"But, Jimmy, I--I can't--I couldn't! That is, I didn't know!"
+Miss Polly was twisting her fingers together helplessly.
+
+"Yes, an' that's what I come ter tell ye, so you WOULD know,"
+asserted Jimmy, eagerly. "They said that for some reason--I
+didn't rightly catch what--you wouldn't let Dr. Chilton come, an'
+you told Dr. Warren so; an' Dr. Chilton couldn't come himself,
+without you asked him, on account of pride an' professional
+et--et--well, et-somethin anyway. An' they was wishin' somebody
+could make you understand, only they didn't know who could; an' I
+was outside the winder, an' I says ter myself right away, 'By
+Jinks, I'll do it!'  An' I come--an' have I made ye understand?"
+
+"Yes; but, Jimmy, about that doctor," implored Miss Polly,
+feverishly. "Who was he? What did he do? Are they SURE he could
+make Pollyanna walk?"
+
+"I don't know who he was. They didn't say. Dr. Chilton knows him,
+an' he's just cured somebody just like her, Dr. Chilton thinks.
+Anyhow, they didn't seem ter be doin' no worryin' about HIM.
+'Twas YOU they was worryin' about, 'cause you wouldn't let Dr.
+Chilton see her. An' say--you will let him come, won't you?--now
+you understand?"
+
+Miss Polly turned her head from side to side. Her breath was
+coming in little uneven, rapid gasps. Jimmy, watching her with
+anxious eyes, thought she was going to cry. But she did not cry.
+After a minute she said brokenly:
+
+"Yes--I'll let--Dr. Chilton--see her. Now run home, Jimmy--quick!
+I've got to speak to Dr. Warren. He's up-stairs now. I saw him
+drive in a few minutes ago."
+
+A little later Dr. Warren was surprised to meet an agitated,
+flushed-faced Miss Polly in the hall. He was still more surprised
+to hear the lady say, a little breathlessly:
+
+"Dr. Warren, you asked me once to allow Dr. Chilton to be called
+in consultation, and--I refused. Since then I have reconsidered.
+I very much desire that you SHOULD call in Dr. Chilton. Will you
+not ask him at once--please? Thank you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW UNCLE
+
+The next time Dr. Warren entered the chamber where Pollyanna lay
+watching the dancing shimmer of color on the ceiling, a tall,
+broad-shouldered man followed close behind him.
+
+"Dr. Chilton!--oh, Dr. Chilton, how glad I am to see YOU!" cried
+Pollyanna. And at the joyous rapture of the voice, more than one
+pair of eyes in the room brimmed hot with sudden tears. "But, of
+course, if Aunt Polly doesn't want--"
+
+"It is all right, my dear; don't worry," soothed Miss Polly,
+agitatedly, hurrying forward. "I have told Dr. Chilton that--that
+I want him to look you over--with Dr. Warren, this morning."
+
+"Oh, then you asked him to come," murmured Pollyanna,
+contentedly.
+
+"Yes, dear, I asked him. That is--" But it was too late. The
+adoring happiness that had leaped to Dr. Chilton's eyes was
+unmistakable and Miss Polly had seen it. With very pink cheeks
+she turned and left the room hurriedly.
+
+Over in the window the nurse and Dr. Warren were talking
+earnestly. Dr. Chilton held out both his hands to Pollyanna.
+
+"Little girl, I'm thinking that one of the very gladdest jobs you
+ever did has been done to-day," he said in a voice shaken with
+emotion.
+
+At twilight a wonderfully tremulous, wonderfully different Aunt
+Polly crept to Pollyanna's bedside. The nurse was at supper. They
+had the room to themselves.
+
+"Pollyanna, dear, I'm going to tell you--the very first one of
+all. Some day I'm going to give Dr. Chilton to you for
+your--uncle. And it's you that have done it all. Oh, Pollyanna,
+I'm so--happy! And so--glad!--darling!"
+
+Pollyanna began to clap her hands; but even as she brought her
+small palms together the first time, she stopped, and held them
+suspended.
+
+"Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, WERE you the woman's hand and heart he
+wanted so long ago? You were--I know you were! And that's what he
+meant by saying I'd done the gladdest job of all--to-day. I'm so
+glad! Why, Aunt Polly, I don't know but I'm so glad that I don't
+mind--even my legs, now!"
+
+Aunt Polly swallowed a sob.
+
+"Perhaps, some day, dear--" But Aunt Polly did not finish. Aunt
+Polly did not dare to tell, yet, the great hope that Dr. Chilton
+had put into her heart. But she did say this--and surely this was
+quite wonderful enough--to Pollyanna's mind:
+
+"Pollyanna, next week you're going to take a journey. On a nice
+comfortable little bed you're going to be carried in cars and
+carriages to a great doctor who has a big house many miles from
+here made on purpose for just such people as you are. He's a dear
+friend of Dr. Chilton's, and we're going to see what he can do
+for you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA
+
+"Dear Aunt Polly and Uncle Tom:--Oh, I can--I can--I CAN walk! I
+did to-day all the way from my bed to the window! It was six
+steps. My, how good it was to be on legs again!
+
+"All the doctors stood around and smiled, and all the nurses
+stood beside of them and cried. A lady in the next ward who
+walked last week first, peeked into the door, and another one who
+hopes she can walk next month, was invited in to the party, and
+she laid on my nurse's bed and clapped her hands. Even Black
+Tilly who washes the floor, looked through the piazza window and
+called me 'Honey, child' when she wasn't crying too much to call
+me anything.
+
+"I don't see why they cried. _I_ wanted to sing and shout and
+yell! Oh--oh--oh! just think, I can walk--walk--WALK! Now I don't
+mind being here almost ten months, and I didn't miss the wedding,
+anyhow. Wasn't that just like you, Aunt Polly, to come on here
+and get married right beside my bed, so I could see you. You
+always do think of the gladdest things!
+
+"Pretty soon, they say, I shall go home. I wish I could walk all
+the way there. I do. I don't think I shall ever want to ride
+anywhere any more. It will be so good just to walk. Oh, I'm so
+glad! I'm glad for everything. Why, I'm glad now I lost my legs
+for a while, for you never, never know how perfectly lovely legs
+are till you haven't got them--that go, I mean. I'm going to walk
+eight steps to-morrow.
+
+"With heaps of love to everybody,
+"POLLYANNA."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter*
+
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