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 ack«ol of LlbiAiy 
 
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POLLYANNA 
 
BY THE AUTHOR 
 
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 THE PAGE COMPANY 
 
 53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 
 
SHE FOUND HERSELF IN THE GREAT DIM LIBRARY, WITH 
 JOHN PENDLETON HIMSELF SITTING NEAR HER." 
 
 (See page 211) 
 
POLL YANNA 
 
 ELEANO% H. PORTER 
 
 Author of "Miss Billy," "Miss Billy's Decision," 
 "Goss Currents," "The Turn of the Tides," etc. 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 STOCKTON ^fUCULFORD 
 
 (BOSTON *± THE PAGE 
 COMPANY id. PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright, 1912, 1913 
 By The Christian Herald 
 
 Copyright, 19 13 [ 
 By The Page Company 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 First Impression, February, 1913 
 Forty-seventh Impression, February, 1920 
 (470th Thousand) 
 
 the colonial press 
 
 €. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. 
 
J 
 
 library, Univ. of 
 North Carolina 
 
 TO 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. Miss Polly 
 
 II. Old Tom and Nancy . 
 
 III. The Coming of Pollyanna . 
 
 rv. The Little Attic Room . 
 
 V. The Game 
 
 VI. A Question of Duty . 
 
 VII. Pollyanna and Punishments . 
 
 VIIL Pollyanna Pays a Visit . 
 
 IX. WmcH 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 
 
 XVE. A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 
 
 XVEL "Just Like a Book" . . 
 
 XVIII. Prisms 
 
 XIX. Which Is Somewhat Surprising 
 
 XX. WmcH Is More Surprising . 
 
 XXI. A Question Answered 
 
 XXn. Sermons and Woodboxes . 
 
 vii 
 
 PAGB 
 
 I 
 
 9 
 15 
 
 27 
 40 
 49 
 63 
 
 72 
 86 
 
 93 
 107 
 122 
 128 
 138 
 
 147 
 162 
 
 173 
 183 
 192 
 198 
 207 
 217 
 
viii 
 
 Contents 
 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 An Accident 229 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 John Pendleton 
 
 
 
 238 
 
 XXV. 
 
 A Waiting Game 
 
 
 
 249 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 A Door Ajar . 
 
 
 
 258 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Two Visits 
 
 
 
 263 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The Game and Its Players 
 
 
 
 274 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Through an Open Window 
 
 
 
 295 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Jimmy Takes the Helm . 
 
 
 
 301 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A New Uncle . 
 
 
 
 306 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Which Is a Letter from Pollyanna 309 
 
POLLYANNA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MISS POLLY 
 
 Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a 
 Httle 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 
 „ow — " when I'm talking to you, I wish you to 
 
 ! 
 
2 Pollyanna 
 
 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 asic for ex- 
 planations. 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 Harring* 
 ton only as the mistress of the old Harrington home- 
 stead, and one of the wealthiest residents of the 
 
Miss Polly S 
 
 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. '' How- 
 ever, I intend to make the best of it, of course. I 
 am a good woman, I hope ; and I know my duty.'* 
 
4 PoUyanna 
 
 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 
 
Miss Polly 5 
 
 from the far-away Western town, and which had 
 been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter 
 was addressed to Miss Polly Harrington, Beldings- 
 ville, Vermont; and it read as follows: 
 
 " Dear Madam : — I regret to inform you that 
 the Rev. John Whittier died two weeks ago, leav- 
 ing 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. 
 
6 Pollyanna 
 
 ;■ . ' it 
 
 " 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 Jen- 
 nie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying 
 the young minister, in spite of her family's remon- 
 strances. 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. 
 
Miss Polly 
 
 The break had come then. Miss Polly remem- 
 bered it well, though she had been but a girl of fif- 
 teen, the youngest, at the time. The family had 
 had little more to do with the missionary's wafcc 
 To be sure, Jennie herself had written, for a time, 
 and had named her last baby " PoUyanna " 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 occu- 
 pants 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 w^orld. 
 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 compan- 
 ion to live with her; but she had not welcomed 
 either their sympathy or their advice. She vvas not 
 
8 PoUyanna 
 
 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 — PoUyanna! — 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 cor- 
 ners. 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 \yig 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 jnost unnecessary just now, just now! " 
 
10 Pollyanna 
 
 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, dog- 
 gedly : '' 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 v/eeds 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 un- 
 observed; "did you know a little girl was comin' 
 here ter live with Miss Polly? " 
 
 "A — what?" demanded the old man, straight- 
 ening 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," main- 
 
Old Tom and Nancy li 
 
 tained 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. 
 
12 Pollyanna 
 
 '' I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with 
 a child in the house," he said. 
 
 '' Humph ! Well, /'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 w^as 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 and Nancy is 
 
 ■ ■ = — == — =m—— 
 
 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, indig- 
 nantly. " 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." 
 
14 PoUyanna 
 
 ^ — ^ — ^ . 
 
 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 hur- 
 ried 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), 
 
 15 
 
16 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna'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 win- 
 dows remain closed. My niece will arrive to-mor- 
 row 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 pur- 
 pose." 
 
 *' 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. T hat 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. 
 
 '' ' Lio:ht hair, red-checked gingham dress, and 
 straw hat ' — all she knov\'S, indeed ! Well, I'd be 
 ashamtd ter own it up, that I would, I would—' 
 
The Coming of PoUyanna 17 
 
 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 al- 
 most 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 be- 
 come of the rest of us," grinned Timothv. " Im- 
 agine Miss Polly and a noisy kid! Gorry; there 
 SToes the whistle now 1 " 
 
18 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 Polly- 
 anna, 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 
 
The Coming of PoUyanna 19 
 
 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 con- 
 fusing. 
 
 " 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, 
 
Pollyanna 
 
 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 ques- 
 tions, until the somewhat dazed Nancy found her- 
 self 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 
 
The Coming of PoUyanna 21 
 
 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 inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 '' 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 
 
PoUyanna 
 
 all the angels, while I didn't have anybody but the 
 Ladies' Aid. But now I'm sure it'll be easier be- 
 cause I've got you. Aunt Polly. I'm so glad I've 
 got you ! " 
 
 Nancy's aching sympathy for the poor little for- 
 lornness 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, 
 
The Coming of PoUyanna 23 
 
 Pollyanna relaxed visibly. 
 
 " Oh, that's all right, then." There was a mo- 
 ment'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," fal- 
 tered 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 Vay 
 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." 
 
24 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 missionan/ barrel, and one of those 
 had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures, too. 
 
The Coming of PoUyanna 25 
 
 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 v/as 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 v/e 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 
 
26 PoUyanna 
 
 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 'rotmd, 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 ter- 
 gether ; 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. 
 
FLUNG HERSELF INTO HER AUNT S SCANDALIZED, UNYIELI>= 
 ING LAP." 
 
^m/[^ 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM 
 
 jss Folly Harrington did not rise to meet 
 her niece. She looked up from her book, it is true^ 
 as Nancy and the Httle 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 w^as sobbing. " You don't know 
 how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy 
 and all this af^er you've had just the Ladies' Aid ! *' 
 
 " Very likely — though Fve 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. 
 
 27 
 
28 PoUyanna 
 
 PoUyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect 
 in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you 
 look like." 
 
 PoUyanna drew back at once, laughing a little 
 hysterically. 
 
 " No, I suppose you don't ; but you see Pm 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. Pve got a beau- 
 tiful 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 — " 
 
 " PoUyanna," interrupted her aunt agam, 
 sharpl}^ " 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 Attic Eoom 29 
 
 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 fol- 
 lowed her aunt from the room. Her eyes were 
 brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely 
 high. 
 
 " After all, I — I reckon Pm 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. 
 
30 Pollyanna 
 
 "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! " 
 
 " Folly anna!'' 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 Polly- 
 anna, 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," de- 
 clared the lady; "certainly not, of riches!'^ 
 
 Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall 
 toward the attic stainvay 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 PoUyanna's small feet pattered behind 
 
The Little Attic Room 31 
 
 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, beau- 
 tiful room full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that 
 was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her 
 aunt opened a door and ascended another stair- 
 way. 
 
 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 *^ 
 little wide and frightened. 
 
 .Her aunt frowned. 
 
 " When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that 
 
82 Pollyanna 
 
 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 
 
The Little Attic Room 33 
 
 wicked," she sobbed. " I just can't make myself 
 understand that God aiid 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 timic." 
 
 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 un- 
 certainly. 
 
 Nancy's capable hands made short work of un- 
 packing the books, the patched undergarments, and 
 
34 Pollyanna 
 
 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 I" 
 
The Little Attic Room 35 
 
 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 be- 
 fore — 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 " pic- 
 ture," 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 
 
86 PoUyanna 
 
 tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they 
 looked Hke 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 Umb until 
 the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the 
 ground was — even for Pollyanna, who was us,ejl 
 to climbing trees — a httle 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 
 
The Little Attic Room S7 
 
 little out of breath — reached the path that ran 
 through the open field. Then, determinedly, she 
 began to climb. Already, however, she was think- 
 ing what a long, long way off that rock must 
 be, when back at the window it had looked so 
 near! 
 
 Fifteen mmutes later the great clock in the hall- 
 way 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 v/ell, perhaps, that Miss 
 
SS PoUyanna 
 
 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 gOT\g ? 
 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, un- 
 consciously sv/eeping 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 
 
The Little Attic Eoom S9 
 
 as she could, and that's a fact," he agreed, pointing 
 with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined 
 ugainst 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 
 fl.«ng 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, whlft 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, 
 reaMy, 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." 
 40 
 
The Game 41 
 
 " My stars and stockings ! " gasped Nancy, hurry- 
 ing 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, cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 " Mercy ! " gasped Nancy. " No — no ! " 
 
 "Why, you don't mean she'd care!'' cried 
 Pollyanna, plainly disturbed. 
 
 " No — er — yes — well, nevei 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 — Vm afraid you'll have ter have bread and 
 milk in the kitchen with m.e. Yer aunt didn't like 
 
42 PoUyanna 
 
 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 at- 
 tempts to like the bare little attic room. 
 
 Pollyanna laughed softly. 
 
 " Well, that's the game, you know, anyway." 
 
 ''ThQ — gamef' 
 
 " 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." 
 
 "W^t is it? I ain't much on games, though." 
 
The Game 43 
 
 PoUyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; 
 and in the gathering twihght 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 irri- 
 tably. 
 
 " 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 / 
 couldn't see it, either, Nancy, at first," she added, 
 with quick honesty. " Father had to tell it to me." 
 
44 PoUyanna 
 
 " Well, then, suppose you tell me/' almost 
 snapped Nancy. 
 
 *' Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't 
 — need — 'em!" exulted PoUyanna, triumphantly. 
 " You see it's just as easy — when you know'liow ! " 
 
 " Well, of all the queer doin's ! " breathed Nancy, 
 regarding PoUyanna with almost fearful eyes. 
 
 '' Oh, but it isn't queer — it's lovely," maintained 
 PoUyanna 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 al- 
 most too hard — like when ^^our 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. 
 
 PoUyanna 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 v/anting pretty things, so! Then I hap- 
 pened 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 
 
The Game 45 
 
 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 
 thtm 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 Httle 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 
 
46 PoUyanna 
 
 make a most awful old try on this . one. You're 
 goin' ter have some one ter play it v/ith, any- 
 how/' she finished, as they entered the kitchen 
 together. 
 
 Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good ap- 
 petite; 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 
 w^ill be at half-past seven. See that you are down 
 to that. Good-night." 
 
 Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came 
 
The Game 47 
 
 straight to her aunt's side and gave her an affec- 
 tionate 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 play- 
 ing 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: 
 
48 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 win- 
 dows 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 twit- 
 tering 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 rose- 
 bushes. 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. 
 
 49 
 
50 PoUyanna 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am 
 glad this morning just to be aHve! " 
 
 " Folljamta! '' remonstrated the lady, sternly, 
 pulling herself as erect as she could with a drag- 
 ging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her 
 neck. " Is this the usual way you say good morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 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 suc- 
 cess. 
 
 " 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 
 
A Question of Duty 51 
 
 answered. Timidly, but as if impelled by an irre- 
 sistible 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 mo- 
 ment 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 any thin' ter be 
 glad about in that ! " she finished, shooing Polly- 
 anna 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 fol- 
 
52 PoUyanna 
 
 lowing 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 up- 
 stairs." 
 
 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 sazv 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 
 
A Question of Duty 53 
 
 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 un- 
 clean 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 Fm 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, in- 
 
54 PoUyanna 
 
 deed, 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 de- 
 sire 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 mo- 
 ment 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 Polly- 
 anna was already out of sight, clattering up the 
 attic stairs. 
 
 ■ Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face ex- 
 pressing 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 per- 
 fectly lovely and interesting in my life. Pm 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 dig- 
 
A Question of Duty 55 
 
 nity. " Pollyanna, you may bring out your clothes 
 now, and I will look them over. What are not suit- 
 able 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 shame- 
 ful," 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 some- 
 times 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 
 
56 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna, 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 gut money, too; shouldn't 
 you?" 
 
A Question of Duty 57 
 
 Miss Pglly did not seem to hear. Her scrutiny 
 of the undergarments finished, she turned to Polly- 
 anna somewhat abruptly. 
 
 '' You have been to school, of course, Polly- 
 anna? " 
 
 " 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 doubt- 
 less 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." 
 
58 Pollyanna 
 
 " 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 my- 
 self, 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 ar- 
 guing 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 
 
A Question of Duty 59 
 
 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. 
 
60 PoUyanna 
 
 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 liv- 
 ing!" 
 
 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 un- 
 grateful — 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 ungrate- 
 ful," 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." 
 
A Question of Duty 61 
 
 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 after- 
 noon. 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 
 my one of them." 
 
 Pollyanna sighed now — she believed she w^as 
 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 sur- 
 prise; 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 
 
62 Pollyanna 
 
 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 feel- 
 ing of limp relaxation that one might have at find- 
 ing 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 con- 
 tent; 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 per- 
 fectly lovely to just w^alk right in and buy clothes 
 
 63 
 
64 PoUyanna 
 
 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, \ 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," de- 
 clared Pollyanna. 
 
PoUyanna and Punishments 65 
 
 " Humph ! Well, I guess you could love ' Qa- 
 rissa 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 u^as 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 ; 
 
66 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna 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. 
 
PoUyanna and Punishments 67 
 
 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, fiat 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 be- 
 fore her, out on the sun-parlor roof, were the moon- 
 light 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 
 
68 PoUyanna 
 
 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 al- 
 most empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Polly- 
 anna 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 — Polly- 
 anna had not forgotten those flies with the marvel- 
 lous 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 set- 
 tled herself to sleep. 
 
 " Vm so glad now that the screens didn't come," 
 
PoUyanna and Punishments 69 
 
 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 dress- 
 ing gown and slippers, her face w^hite and fright- 
 ened. 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 par- 
 lor. 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 peer- 
 ing 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 — Auni Polly!" she stam- 
 mered. " Don't look so scared ! It isn't that I've 
 got the consumption, you know, like Joel Plartley 
 
«ro PoUyanna 
 
 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 dow^n 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 wath 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 raptur- 
 ously. " Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, how per- 
 
PoUyanna and Punishments 71 
 
 fectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted to 
 sleep with some one sometime — some one that be- 
 longed 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, vvas feeling 
 curiously helpless. For the third time since Polly- 
 anna'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 won- 
 der 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 — pro- 
 vided she did not " like " to do certain things al- 
 ready 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 cer- 
 tainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at 
 
 72 
 
PoUyanna Pays a Visit 73 
 
 their conclusion each day somewhat dazed and 
 wholly exhausted. 
 
 Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was 
 not dazed nor exhausted. Wednesdays and Satur- 
 days came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her. 
 
 There were no children in the immediate neigh- 
 borhood of the Harrington homestead for Polly- 
 anna to play with. The house itself was on the 
 outskirts of the village, and though there w^ere other 
 houses not far away, they did not chance to contain 
 any boys or girls near Pollyanna's age. This, how- 
 ever, 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 w^alks 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 
 
74 Pollyanna 
 
 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 be- 
 fore; and once again Pollyanna laughed happily. 
 
 When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him 
 in much the same manner, the man stopped abruptly. 
 
PoUyanna Pays a Visit 75 
 
 " See here, child, who are you, and why are you 
 speaking to me every day? " 
 
 " I'm PoUyanna 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. 
 
 PoUyanna 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. 
 
 PoUyanna 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 
 PoUyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had 
 promptly given it to her in accordance with ]\iiss 
 Polly's orders. 
 
 " And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Na'ncy 
 
76 PoUyanna 
 
 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 v^on't — after you've done it once," 
 predicted Nancy, sourly. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because nobody does. If folks vi^a'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 hank- 
 erin' for lamb broth ! " 
 
 " Why, what a funny woman," laughed Polly- 
 anna. " I think I shall like to go to see her. She 
 must be so surprising and — and different. I lovr 
 different folks." 
 
 "Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's different,' all 
 
Pollyanna Pays a Visit 77 
 
 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 cot- 
 tage. 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 w^as 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. 
 
78 PoUyanna 
 
 *' 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 
 
Pollyanna Pays a Visit 79 
 
 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 morn- 
 ing, and I was wanting lamb — " She stopped 
 suddenly, then went on with an abrupt change of 
 subject. ''I never slept a v\'ink last night — ^ not a 
 wink!" 
 
 " O dear, I wish / didn't," sighed Pollyanna, 
 placing the jelly on the little stand and seating her- 
 self 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 
 
80 PoUyanna 
 
 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 PoUy- 
 anna. 
 
 " 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 w^hen I get to Heaven.) And you've 
 got two little red spots in your cheeks. Why, Mrs. 
 Snovv% you are pretty! I should think you'd know 
 it Vv''hen 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! " 
 
PoUyanna Pays a Visit 81 
 
 '* 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," per- 
 mitted 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 mi':^ht have 
 a better pose. Meanwhile the sick woman, frown- 
 ing prodigiously, and openly scoffing at the wh-ole 
 
Pollyanna 
 
 procedure, was, in spite of herself, beginning to 
 tingle with a feeling perilously near to excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " 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. 
 
lif 
 
 \ ^'"'NBHfflii 
 
 '^^^H 
 
 [ 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 M 
 
 n 
 
 
 
 ■k. 
 
 w 
 
 f 
 
 HH^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 ^-'■-pr ^ .'^^ ^. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 f ^" 1 
 
 
 
 -^b 
 
 '■ i 
 
PoUyanna Pays a Visit 83 
 
 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 irri- 
 tably. 
 
 " 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, Polly- 
 anna 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. 
 
84 PoUyanna 
 
 " Well, I never ! Now, what does she mean by 
 that? " ejaculated Mrs. Snow, staring after her vis- 
 itor. 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 
 
 — though 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 
 Fve tried to get you to have a lighter room for ages 
 
 — and you wouldn't." 
 
 There was no reply to this. Mrs. Snow was pick- 
 
PoUyanna Pays a Visit 85 
 
 ing 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 bewil- 
 derment. 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 blithe- 
 somely. " I'm glad it doesn't rain always, any- 
 how ! " 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 86 
 
Which Tells of the Man 87 
 
 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 wh}^ 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." 
 
88 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 La- 
 dies' Aider — not but that you're just as good, of 
 course — maybe better," she added in hurried po- 
 liteness. " 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 di- 
 rectness that made his face look really pleasant, 
 Pollyanna thought. 
 
 " Good afternoon," he greeted her a littk 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 Polly- 
 anna, brightly. " I knew you knew it just as soon 
 as I saw you." 
 
 "Oh, you did, did you?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I saw it in yoar ey^, you know, and 
 m your smile." 
 
Which Tells of the Man 39 
 
 " 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 Pendle- 
 ton 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 
 
90 PoUyanna 
 
 enough ter tell what he wants ter eat. She has ter 
 guess it more'n half the time — only it'll be some- 
 thin' 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 te-r 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 your- 
 
Which Tells of the Man 91 
 
 self 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, rest- 
 ing on PoUyanna'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 cor- 
 recting the mistake. 
 
 " And everybody says he's miysterious," she went 
 on. " Some years he jest traA^els, 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. 
 
92 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Hvin'." 
 
 " 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 PoMyanna 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 Polly- 
 anna found herself alone with the invalid. 
 
 " Oh, it's you, is it? " asked a fretful voice from 
 the bed. " I remember you. Anyhody'd remember 
 you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wash you had 
 come yesterday. I zmnted 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 win- 
 dow and pulling up the shade. " I want to see if 
 youVe fixed your hair like I did — oh, you haven't ! 
 But, never mind ; I'm glad you haven't, after aU» 
 
94 PoUyanna 
 
 '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 w^ould make any differ- 
 ence 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 some- 
 thing, v/hat 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." 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow 95 
 
 " 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 Polly 
 anna. '' 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 bovvds 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 Polly- 
 anna, 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 3^ou," 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 
 
06 PoUyanna 
 
 drives me nearly wild. She was at it all the morn- 
 ing — 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 rheu- 
 matic fever — though you want to something awful, 
 Mrs. White says. She told me afterwards she reck- 
 oned she'd have gone raving crazy if it hadn't been 
 ior 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 forgo/ 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow 97 
 
 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 df-af and couldn't hear anything, like her hus- 
 band'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 remem- 
 ber? You asked me to tell you something to be 
 glad about — glad, you knov/, even though you did 
 have to lie here abed all day." 
 
 "Oh!" scofifed 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, trium- 
 phantly; "and I found it too. But 'twas hard. 
 
98 Pollyanna 
 
 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 Fll 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 bar- 
 rel, the crutches, and the doll that did not come. 
 
 The story was just finished when Milly appeared 
 at the door. 
 
 " Your aunt is Avanting 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. 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow 99 
 
 "All right," she sighed. "I'll hurry." Sud- 
 denly 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, hov/ very happy they were. Where- 
 upon her aunt would usually reply, wearily : 
 
 " Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, 
 that they are happy; but I trust that they are prof- 
 itable, as well — otherwise I should have failed sig- 
 nally in my duty." 
 
 Generally Pollyanna would answer this with ai 
 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. 
 
100 Pollyanna 
 
 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? " ques- 
 tioned 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 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow lOl 
 
 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 unex- 
 pected, 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 
 ^nd go to look for that shawl. 
 
 " And of course nozv 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 PoUv- 
 
102 PoUyanna 
 
 anna stopped short. She was plunging into an en- 
 tirely 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 ahvays 
 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 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow ' lOS 
 
 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'L 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 be- 
 neath. 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: 
 
104 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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," proph- 
 esied Nancy, exultingly, nodding her head to Polly- 
 anna over the armful of dresses she had taken from 
 the closet. " I'm told ter take down yer things, 
 and Fm 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 Polly- 
 anna at last reached her goal — Aunt Polly. 
 
 '' Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, 
 really ? Why, that room's got everything — the car- 
 pet 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 
 
A Surprise for Mrs. Snow 105 
 
 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 ! " Polly- 
 anna'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 
 
106 PoUyanna 
 
 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 dis- 
 turbed; — but then, of course she had been glad — 
 over some things I 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 INTRODUCING JIMMV 
 
 August came. August brought several sur- 
 prises 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 ques- 
 tioning 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 confi- 
 dence ; " '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 shiv- 
 
 107 
 
108 Pollyanna 
 
 ered : 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 fieay." 
 
 " 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, entirel> 
 misunderstanding her aunt's words. '' I told every- 
 body we should keep it, if I didn't find where it be- 
 longed. 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 lone- 
 some 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, / had the 
 Ladies' Aid, you know, and kitty didn't have any- 
 
Introducing Jimmy 109 
 
 ^ ■ — f- 
 
 body. 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 alread)' 
 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 mor^ 
 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 calfs-foot jelly again to Mrs. Snow, 
 
110 PoUyanna 
 
 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 sud- 
 denly 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. 
 
Introducing Jimmy ill 
 
 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 sur- 
 prised look, and began to whittle again at his 
 stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his 
 hand. 
 
 Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself com- 
 fortably dov/n 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. 
 
 " Jlmmiy Bean," he grunted with ungracious in- 
 difference. 
 
 " 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.'^ 
 
112 PoUyanna 
 
 " Nowhere ! Why, you can't do that — every- 
 body 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 Httle. 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' ques- 
 tions ! " sighed the boy impatiently. 
 
 " I have to be," retorted Poll3^anna 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 wf^'n"t never wanted, anyhow, I don't 
 
' OH, I KNOW JUST THE PLACE FOR YOU,' SHE CRIED." 
 
Introducing Jimmy lis 
 
 believe. So I've quit. I'm goin' ter live some- 
 wheres else — but I hain't found the place, yet. I'd 
 like a home — jest a common one, ye know, v^ith 
 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 dawn- 
 ing 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 
 
114 PoUyanna 
 
 "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 anx- 
 iously, 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 per- 
 fectly 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 vAio could talk 
 
Introducing Jimmy 115 
 
 like that, runrxin', 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 unhesi- 
 tatingly 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 under- 
 stood 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. Poilyanna laughed mer= 
 rily. 
 
116 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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!" Polly- 
 anna'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, be- 
 cause 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 her- 
 self 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 
 
Introducing Jimmy 117 
 
 flashed and his chin came up. With two strides of 
 his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly fear- 
 lessly. 
 
 ** 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 helpless- 
 ness was almost upon her, she knew. Yet she ral- 
 lied 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 PoUyanna's jaw dropped. 
 
118 PoUyanna 
 
 ''Why, Aunt Polly," she breathed, ''I should 
 think you'd be glad to have me g\ — Oh ! " she 
 broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurry- 
 ing blindly from the room. 
 
 Before the boy had reached the end of the drive- 
 way, 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 prob- 
 ably 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, ril tell you what I will do ! The Ladies' 
 
Introducing Jimmy 119 
 
 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. Be- 
 sides — 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 indiffer- 
 ently. 
 
 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 abouife 
 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 ! '* 
 
120 Pollyanna 
 
 " Oh, but you wouldn't be there," argued Polly- 
 anna, 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," cau- 
 tioned 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 be- 
 fore 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 shov/ up sometime. Thty 
 ain't like folks, ye know. They don't care! " 
 
 " I know,** nodded Pollyanna, with understand* 
 
Introducing Jimmy 121 
 
 ing eyes. " But I'm sure, when I see you to-mor- 
 row, 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 desola- 
 tion — 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. 
 
 122 
 
Before the Ladies' Aid 123 
 
 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, there- 
 fore, so that she should get there a little before 
 three. 
 
 " I want them all to be there," she said to her- 
 self ; " 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 
 
124 PoUyanna 
 
 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. Polly- 
 anna 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 
 poHtely. " Fm 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 any- 
 thing to say, just then. 
 
 *' I — I've come to — to lay the case before you,'^ 
 stammered Pollyanna, after a moment, uncon- 
 sciously falling into her father's familiar phrase- 
 ology. 
 
 There was a slight rustle. 
 
 " Did — did your aunt send you, my dear ? ' 
 asked Mrs. Ford, the minister's wife. 
 
Before the Ladies' Aid 125 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna. " 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, break- 
 ing 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 sup- 
 plemented 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 them- 
 selves, animatedly, not quite pleasantly. 
 
126 PoUyanna 
 
 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 per- 
 haps 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 mis- 
 sions, and several said they should die of mortifi- 
 cation 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 al- 
 most 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 
 
Before the Ladies' Aid 127 
 
 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, any- 
 way," 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, notwith- 
 standing her disappointment over what she must 
 tell Jimmy Bean to-morrow. 
 
 128 
 
In Pendleton Woods 129 
 
 '' I wish they were up here — all those ladies 
 who talked so loud/' sighed PoUyanna 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 atten- 
 tion 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™ 
 
130 PoUyanna 
 
 " Ho ! That isn't the way home/' laughed Polly- 
 anna, 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 elo- 
 quent with appeal — so eloquent that at last Polly- 
 anna 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 PoUyanna's foot, 
 and the man turned his head. With a cry of dis- 
 may 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 ques- 
 tions literally, one by one. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Pendleton, I — I don't know so very 
 
In Pendleton Woods 131 
 
 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 be- 
 tween 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 t\ie man 
 scowlingly, as he tried to move himself a little. 
 
13^ PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 per- 
 fectly awful ! " shuddered Pollyanna. " But I'm so 
 glad I came ! Can't /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 
 
In Pendleton Woods iss 
 
 near as this. She was almost frightened now *it 
 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 any- 
 thing 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 wa 
 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 acr-^ss 
 
154 PoUyanna 
 
 the floor, gleamed dully on the tarnished brass and- 
 irons 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 " Chil- 
 ton." 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 un- 
 tidy 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 in- 
 credibly 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. 
 
In Pendleton Woods 135 
 
 V — 
 
 Pollyanna opened wide her eyes. 
 
 " Why, of course I could ! I'm here" she an- 
 swered. " As if I'd be here if I hadn't got in! And 
 the doctor will be right up jubt 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 aren't 
 cross inside a bit ! " 
 
 " Indeed! How do you know that? " asked the 
 man, trying to change the positior^ of his head with- 
 out 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 
 
136 Pollyanna 
 
 softly while the change was being made ; but in the 
 end he found Pollyanna's lap a very welcome sub- 
 stitute 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. Polly- 
 anna, 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. Polly- 
 anna 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 fear- 
 lessly 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 
 liext moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon 
 
POLLYANNA SAT SO STILL SHE HARDLY SEEMED TO BREATHE. 
 
In Pendleton Woods 137 
 
 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 med- 
 icine. 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?" 
 
 138 
 
Just a Matter of Jelly 139 
 
 *' Not much 3^ou 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 fu- 
 neral to be glad about." 
 
 Nancy chuckled. 
 
 " We can be glad 'tain't our'n," she observed de- 
 murely. But Pollyanna did not hear. She had 
 begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment 
 Nancy, open-mouthed, was listening. 
 
140 Pollyanna 
 
 At the appointed place the next afternoon, Polly- 
 anna 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 ofif. Wouldn't 
 it be jest great, now, if only somebody over in India 
 wanted met " 
 
 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 m 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. 
 
Just a Matter of Jelly 141 
 
 You wait, ril 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 aw^ay 
 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 Pendle- 
 ton 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." 
 
142 Pollyanna 
 
 '* 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 ^;rtraordinary you can't be ordinary, can 
 you?" 
 
 " You certainly can not/' 
 
 '* Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I'm ex- 
 traurdinary," 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," cor- 
 rected 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 
 
Just a Matter of Jelly 143 
 
 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 hi:n — 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 tele- 
 phone 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 in- 
 stead 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? " 
 
iU Foiiyanna 
 
 " The Man. I mean, Mr. John Pendleton." 
 
 Miss Polly almost sprang from her chair. 
 
 ''John Pendleton!'' 
 
 " Yes. Nancy told me his name. Maybe you 
 K:now him." 
 
 Miss Polly did not answer this. Instead she 
 asked : 
 
 " Do yon 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 
 
Just a Matter of Jelly 145 
 
 stiffly; "but — I do not care to be sending jelly to 
 John Pendleton, Pollyanna." 
 
 '' I know, he is cross — outside," admitted Polly- 
 anna, 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 impa- 
 tiently 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, gb unlike her own ; *' you may — ^ 
 you may take the jelly to Mr. Pendleton as your 
 
146 PoUyanna 
 
 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," ex- 
 ulted Pollyanna, as she flew through the door. 
 
 0- 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 DR. CHILTON 
 
 The great gray pile of masonry looked very dif- 
 ferent 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 be- 
 fore the woman who had been hanging out the 
 clothes opened the door. 
 
 " If you please, Pve 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, 
 147 
 
148 PoUyanna 
 
 heard the woman's words and saw the disappointed 
 look on Pollyanna's face. He stepped quickly for- 
 ward. 
 
 *'Ah! Some calfs-foot jelly?" he asked geni- 
 ally. " 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 resi- 
 dents. Her name is Pollyanna Whittier. I — I 
 don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal ac- 
 
Dr. Chilton 149 
 
 quaintance with the httle lady as yet; but lots of 
 my patients do — I'm thankful to say ! " 
 
 The nurse smiled. 
 
 " Indeed ! iVnd 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 every- 
 thing 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 ol 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, pick- 
 ing up the reins and stepping into the gig. 
 
 Pollyanna, meanwhile, in accordance with the 
 doctor's orders, was being escorted to John Pendle- 
 ton'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 
 
150 PoUyanna 
 
 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 ! " 
 
Dr. Chilton 151 
 
 " 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. 
 
li^ PoUyanna 
 
 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 — bifoken ones, you know — like lifelong inva- 
 lids, 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 y m didn't break but one. You can be glad 
 'twasn't two." Pollyanna was warming to her task. 
 
 ''Of co\irse! 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 
 
Dr. Chilton 153 
 
 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 didnt 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 lyin^j; 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 yj\x 
 
154 PoUyanna 
 
 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 your- 
 self, 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," fal- 
 tered 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." 
 
Dr. Chilton 11^ 
 
 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 uncer- 
 tainly to her feet. 
 
 " I reckon maybe I'd better go now," she pro- 
 posed. "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 3^ou 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 m.ean 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 
 
156 PoUyanna 
 
 " I thought as much," vouchsafed the man, 
 shortly, turning away his head. And PoUyanna, 
 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 PoUyanna, 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 PoUyanna, 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. 
 
 PoUyanna 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 PoUyanna, with a rueful smile. 
 
Dr. Chilton 157 
 
 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 
 
158 PoUyanna 
 
 had no wife and no home saye 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 exalta- 
 tion 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 doc- 
 tor," announced Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. 
 "He's lovely, Nancy!" 
 
 "Is he?" 
 
 " Yes. And I told him I should think his busi- 
 ness would be the very gladdest one there was." 
 
Dr. Chilton 159 
 
 '' 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 get- 
 ting so she could play this game of " being glad " 
 quite successfully, she thought. She rather en- 
 joyed 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 op- 
 posite from what you told Mis' Snow." 
 
 " Opposite ? " repeated Pollyanna, obviously puz- 
 zled. 
 
 *' 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 
 h 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 
 
160 FOffyanna 
 
 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 remonstra- 
 tive 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. 
 
Dr. Chilton 161 
 
 " Dear me ! Well, I don't see where the differ- 
 ence 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 Polly- 
 anna's visit to Mr. John Pendleton, that Miss Polly 
 was driven by Timothy to an early afternoon com- 
 mittee 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 wher- 
 ever 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? 
 
 163 
 
A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 16. 
 
 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 ? " de- 
 manded Aunt Polly, hurriedly removing her hatj 
 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 ab^ 
 surd fashion about that beggar boy ? " 
 
 " But it isn't nonsense," urged Pollyanna, aa^ 
 swering only the first of her aunt's remarks. '' Yo^a 
 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 w^ay! AVhy, 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 
 
PoUyanna 
 
 ;id anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? 
 
 yhen 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 
 
OH, my! what pretty hair you've got.' '^ ' 
 
A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 165 
 
 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 al- 
 ready 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 
 ^^laces where folks can see it. My ! I reckon f olks'll 
 le 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 '11 just love to look 
 at you ! " 
 
 " Pollyanna ! " gasped a stified but shocked voice 
 
166 Pollyanna 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna, 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 
 
A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 167 
 
 i 
 
 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 
 ■^ow 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 
 
168 Pollyanna 
 
 — 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 
 
A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 169 
 
 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. Ghilton ! 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 — " 
 
170 PoUyanna 
 
 " ' 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 — 
 r.tay!" 
 
 " 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. 
 
 " Fve 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." 
 
A Red Rose and a Lace Shawl 171 
 
 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 wath his lips only. His 
 eyes were very grave. For some time he said noth- 
 ing; 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 sup- 
 pose. 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. 
 
172 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 excla- 
 mation. 
 
 " 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 PoUyanna to-day witK 
 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. 
 
 173 
 
174 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Arnt 
 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 fretful- 
 ness. 
 
 " 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 w^here the tele- 
 
'* Just Like a Book " 175 
 
 phone 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 zuould 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." 
 
176 Fonyanna 
 
 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 ? Pm lonesome, and I need you. There's 
 another reason — and Pm 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 
 
'* Just Like a Book " 177 
 
 you so much that — that the fact that I wasn't see- 
 ing 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 Pen- 
 dleton'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 dtfty,'^ shrugged 
 
178 PoUyanna 
 
 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 after- 
 wards — " 
 
 " 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 some- 
 thing." 
 
 " The mystery! " breathed Nancy, in an awe- 
 struck 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 
 
^' Just Like a Book '' 179 
 
 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 / 
 talked to hiin^ firsto 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 min- 
 ute 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 vou told him she didn't send it? '' 
 
180 Pollyanna 
 
 "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 an- 
 other 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 
 
'* Just Like a Book '' 181 
 
 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 re- 
 mind 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 lov- 
 ers. Miss Pollyanna. ^^011 ain't big enough yet, 
 anyhow. But if there 's 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 
 (t would be a pretty slick piece of business if you 
 
18^ PoUyanna 
 
 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 thought^ 
 fill 
 
CHAPTER XVIIl 
 
 PRISMS 
 
 As the warm August days passed, Pollyanna 
 went very frequently to the great house on Pendle- 
 ton 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, fre- 
 quently; 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, pic- 
 tures, 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 Polly- 
 anna talked, Pollyanna liked to talk — but she was 
 never sure that she would not look ud and find him 
 lying back on his pillow with that white, hurt look 
 that always pained her; and she was never sure 
 
 183 
 
184 PoUyanna 
 
 which — if any — of her words had brought it 
 there. As for telhng 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 Pendle- 
 ton 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, some- 
 times 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. 
 
Prisms 185 
 
 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 particu- 
 larly 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 
 Folly 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. 
 
186 PoUyanna 
 
 " That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish 
 to discuss Dr. C^,:lton — 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 ex- 
 claimed, 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 Pendle- 
 ton 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 
 
Prisms 187 
 
 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 fas- 
 cinated 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 Polly- 
 anna'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-fash= 
 ioned candelabrum in her hand. 
 
188 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 direc- 
 tions. 
 
 As she left the room he turned smilmg eyes 
 toward the wondering Pollyanna. 
 
 " Bring me the candlestick now, please, Polly- 
 anna." 
 
 With both hands she brought it; and in a mo- 
 ment 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 fin- 
 
Prisms 189 
 
 ished, and she stepped back with a low cry of de- 
 light. 
 
 It had become a fairyland — that sumptuous, but 
 dreary bedroom. Evcryw^here 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 talk- 
 ing 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 some- 
 thing 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 ? " 
 
190 PoUyanna 
 
 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 fin- 
 ished. " 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 Pm 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 e3Ts. 
 
 " No," she said. Then, after a minute she added 
 mournfully : '' Pm afraid, Mr. Pendleton, the sun 
 
Prisma 191 
 
 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. Pre- 
 liminary 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 Polly- 
 anna ; 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 mas liv- 
 ing, after all — though she had had her doubts 
 before. 
 
 In spite of her delight in her new work, Polly- 
 anna 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 Saturdav afternoon he spoke to her about it. 
 192 
 
Which Is Somewhat Surprising 193 
 
 " See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to 
 come and live with me?" he asked, a little impa- 
 tiently. " I don't see anything of you, nowa- 
 days." 
 
 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 play- 
 fully 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. " Yon 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 
 )lay it Will you oome? *' 
 
 Pollyanna turned in surprise, 
 
194 PoUyanna 
 
 " Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean — that? " 
 
 " But I do. I want you. Will you come ? " 
 
 PoUyanna 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 
 PoUyanna 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? " 
 
 PoUyanna 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. 
 
 " PoUyanna, 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 PoUyanna, her eyes shining with 
 sympathy. 
 
 " But — well, I didn't bring het here. Never 
 
Which Is Somewhat Surprising 195 
 
 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 
 
196 Follyanna 
 
 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, cir," 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 
 pul«e. 
 
Which Is Somewhat Surprising 197 
 
 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 after- 
 noon 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, Polly- 
 anna," 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 de- 
 clared, his eyes twinkling. " You seemed more 
 upsetting than soothing yesterday, young lady." 
 
 198 
 
Which Is More Surprising 199 
 
 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 star L. 
 
 " 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 — Pm 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.'^ 
 
 " Yes ; Aunt Polly. And, of course he would 
 want to tell her himself instead of having me d(? 
 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. Pen- 
 dleton, you know." 
 
 The doctor relaxed suddenly. The hand holding 
 the reins fell limply to his lap. 
 
200 PoUyanna 
 
 ''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 w^e 
 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 Pendle- 
 ton 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 : " Whj^ 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. 
 
Which Is More Surprising 201 
 
 Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton 
 waiting for her that afternoon. 
 
 " Pollyanna," he began at once. *' I've been try- 
 ing 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, Polly- 
 lanna 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'^ 
 voice was tragic with dismay. 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " And it isn't all coming out like a book ? " 
 
 There was no answer. The m.an's eyes v/ere 
 moodily fixed out the windovv. 
 
 '"O dear! And it was all going so splendidly," 
 almost sobbed Pollyanna. " Fd have been so glad 
 to come — with Aunt Polly." 
 
202 Polly anna 
 
 " 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 Pen- 
 dleton's face had grown very white. He was speak- 
 ing with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes 
 wide and frightened, and her lips parted, was ga- 
 zing 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 brignt 
 cbeeriness. I found out, after a time, who you 
 
Which Is More Surprising ws 
 
 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 sjiocked. 
 
 " W,hy, 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 
 
\ 
 
 g04 Pollyanna 
 
 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," inter- 
 rupted the man. His face was very, very red now 
 — and no wonder, perhaps : it was not for " giv- 
 ing 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,' Polly- 
 anna, 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 b^gan ; 
 but the man interrupted her sharply. The old irri- 
 tability 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 
 
Which Is More Surprising 205 
 
 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 bro- 
 kenly. 
 
 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 mo- 
 ment'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 grimdy. 
 
206 PoUyanna 
 
 '' 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 in- 
 terest. "And what did Dr. Chilton say?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Poll3^anna 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 Polly- 
 anna 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," an- 
 nounced 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 PoUyanna abstractedly, 
 eyeing the clouds in her turn. 
 
 Nancy snififed a little. 
 
 " You don't seem ter notice what I said," she 
 observed aggrievedly. " I said yer aunt was wor- 
 ried about ye ! '* 
 
 " Oh," sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly 
 207 
 
20S Pollyanna 
 
 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 thdX 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 hor- 
 rid — 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 Pol- 
 lyanna, '' Aunt Polly always does her duty. She — 
 she's a very dutiful woman! " Unconsciously Pol- 
 lyanna repeated John Pendleton's words of half an 
 hour before. 
 
 Nancy chuckled. 
 
A Question Answered 209 
 
 f\ 
 
 " 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 wel- 
 comed 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 
 
210 Pollyanna 
 
 the pretty room you wanted? Why, Miss Polly- 
 anna, when ye remember how at first she hated ter 
 have — " 
 
 With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself tip 
 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 admis- 
 sion 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 ! Ygu 
 don't know how glad I am that Aunt Polly — wants 
 me!" 
 
 "As if I'd leave her now!" thought Pollyanna, 
 as she clim.bed 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! "" 
 
A Question Answered £11 
 
 The task of telling John Pendleton of her de- 
 cision 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 — be- 
 cause 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 disor- 
 dered 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 
 
212 Pollyanna 
 
 the very gladdest kind of a thing for you to do, 
 and — " 
 
 "With — youf'' asked John Pendleton, his 
 mouth growing a little stern at the corners. 
 
 "N-no; but — " 
 
 " Pollyanna, you aren't going to say no ! " inter- 
 rupted 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. Pendle- 
 ton, I couldn't leave Aunt Polly — now ! " 
 
 There was a long pause. Only the snapping of 
 
A Question Answered 213 
 
 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 ; youVe 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 timics before. There is 
 no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny to 
 them in my life. There ! " 
 
214 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna's eyes. There v»^as only surprised joy. 
 
 *' Oh, oh ! " she cried, clapping her hands. " I'm 
 so glad! That is," she corrected, coloring distress- 
 fully, " 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 f'' 
 
 " 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 non- 
 sense!" 
 
 " 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 
 
A Question Answered 215 
 
 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 some- 
 where ; 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 knozv that a ' nice live little boy ' vv^ould be far 
 better than — my skeleton in the closet ; only — 
 we aren't always willing to make the exchange. 
 We are apt to still cHng to — our skeletons, PoUy- 
 anna. However, suppose you tell me a little more 
 
216 PoUyanna 
 
 about this nice little boy." And PoUyanna told 
 him. 
 
 Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps 
 the pathos of Jimmy Bean's story as told by Polly- 
 anna's eager little lips touched a heart already 
 strangely softened. At all events, when PoUyanna 
 went home that night she carried with her an invi- 
 tation for Jimmy Bean himself to call at the great 
 house with PoUyanna the next Saturday afternoon. 
 
 " And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like' him" 
 sighed PoUyanna, 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 PoUyanna told John Pen- 
 dleton 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 
 
 217 
 
218 Pollyanna 
 
 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 spht 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 sup- 
 pers 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. 
 
 Aad because of all this, the Rev. Paul Ford 
 
Sermons and Woodboxes ^19 
 
 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? 
 
 Slovv^ly 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, hyp- 
 ocrites! 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, hypo- 
 crites! for ye devour v/idows' houses, and for a 
 pretence make long prayer : therefore ye shall re- 
 ceive the greater damnation.' 
 
 " ' Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo- 
 crites ! 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 
 
220 PoUyanna 
 
 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." 
 
Seimons and Woodboxes 221 
 
 " 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 wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Was your father a minister, Pollyanna ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. Didn't you know? I supposed every- 
 body 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 sit- 
 ting at the foot of the tree, appeared to have for- 
 gotten Pollyanna' s presence. He had pulled some 
 
222 PoUyanna 
 
 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 Octo- 
 ber," 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 Polly- 
 anna waited patiently, before she tried again — by 
 a new: route. 
 
 " Do you like being a m.inister? " 
 
 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 
 
Sermons and Woodboxes 223 
 
 ■ !■ Ill II I 
 
 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 g-lad 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." 
 
 ''Th^ — whatf" 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 're- 
 joicing texts.' " 
 
 " Oh ! " There was an odd look on the min- 
 ister's face. His eyes had fallen to the words on 
 the top paper in his hands — " But woe unto yon. 
 
224 Pollyanna 
 
 scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! " " And so your 
 father — liked those 'rejoicing texts/" he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 '' 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 
 ^nd 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," cqrrected Pol- 
 lyanna, 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 de- 
 scended the hill, hand in hand. Pollyanna's face 
 
Sermons and Woodboxes 
 
 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 " re- 
 joice and be glad." 
 
 After a time, with a long sigh, the Rev. Paul 
 Ford roused himself, came back from the far West- 
 em town, and adjusted the sheets of paper under 
 his hand. 
 
 "Matthew twenty-third: 13 — 14 and 23," he 
 
226 Foiiyanna 
 
 wrote; then, with a gesture of impatience, he 
 dropped his pencil and pulled toward him a maga- 
 zine left on the desk by his wife a few minutes 
 before. Listlessly his tired eyes turned from para- 
 graph to paragraph until these words arrested 
 them : 
 
 " A father one day said to his son, Tom, who, 
 he knev/, had refused to fill his mother's woodbox 
 that morning: 'Tom, I'm sure you'll be glad to 
 go and bring in some' ^YOod 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 strength- 
 ened, not weakened. . , . Instead of always harp- 
 ing 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 beau- 
 
Sermons and Woodboxes S27 
 
 tiful, helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and 
 may revolutionize a whole town. . . . People radi- 
 ate 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 re- 
 turn 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 
 
2^8 PoUyanna 
 
 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 ser- 
 mon 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 Polly- 
 anna'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 in- 
 side 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, 
 229 
 
230 PoUyanna 
 
 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 3^ou, 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 pain- 
 ful 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," re- 
 plied the doctor, a little queerly. 
 
 " Oil, 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/' 
 
An Accident 2Si 
 
 " 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 whj< 
 don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chil- 
 ton?" 
 
 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 — ■ con- 
 fident. At least, they — they haven't shown them- 
 selves to be so — obliging," he observed. 
 
 Pollyanna frowned again. Then her ey^s wi- 
 dened 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. 
 
232 Pollyanna 
 
 Snow. Tve 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 so- 
 berly, 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 acci- 
 dent occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from 
 school, crossed the road at an apparently safe dis- 
 tance 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 un- 
 dressed tenderly and put to bed, while from the 
 village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr. War- 
 ren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could 
 bring him„ 
 
An Accident 233 
 
 " 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 clos- 
 eted 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 knov/, if any one would — she 
 kept up such a listenin' an' a feelin' for her heart- 
 beats an' her breath ! " 
 
 "Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her? 
 — that — that — " Old Tom's face worked con- 
 vulsively. 
 
 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!" 
 
gS4 PoUyanna 
 
 '' 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 in^^rnally, 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, v/ringing her hands help- 
 lessly. 
 
 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 
 
An Accident 235 
 
 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 at- 
 tempt to lift herself. 
 
 " No, dear, I wouldn't try — just yet," soothed 
 her aunt quickly, but very quietly. 
 
 " But what is the matter ? W^hy 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 swal- 
 low 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 eye^ 
 
236 Pollyanna 
 
 were dazed. She lifted her hand ^o her f^^rehead. 
 '' 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 be- 
 gan 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." 
 
An Accident 237 
 
 " All right," agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubt- 
 fully ; " 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." PoUyanna, how- 
 ever, 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 conscious- 
 ness. 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. rd so much rather have broken legs like 
 Mr. Pendleton's than life-long-invalids like Mrs. 
 Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and life- 
 long-invalids don't." 
 
John Pendleton 239 
 
 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 catch- 
 ing — measles are, I mean — and they wouldn't let 
 you stay here." 
 
 " You seem to — to be glad for a good manjr 
 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 rain- 
 bow. I love rainbows. I'm so 'glad Mr. Pendleton 
 gave me those prisms! I'm glad of some things I 
 
240 PoUyanna 
 
 haven't said yet. I don't know but I'm 'most glad 
 I was hurt." 
 
 "Pollyanna!" 
 
 Polly anna 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 en- 
 tered. 
 
 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, sfuess what's happened,'' 
 sne 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 
 
John Pendleton 241 
 
 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 Pen- 
 dleton!" 
 
 " Sho, now! You're jokin', girl." 
 
 " Not much I am — an' me a-lettin' him in my- 
 self — 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 de- 
 rided. 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " Oh, you needn't be so innercent," she retorted 
 with mock indignation ; " — you what led me wild- 
 goose chasin' in the first place ! " 
 
 "What do ye mean?" 
 
 Nancy glanced through the open barn door 
 
242 PoUyanna 
 
 toward the house, and came a step nearer to the 
 old man. 
 
 " Listen ! 'Twas you that was telHn' 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 some- 
 thin' 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 prom- 
 ise 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 
 
John Pendleton 243 
 
 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, some- 
 body 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 ow^n 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," re- 
 joined 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 spol^e to for 
 years ! But I let him in an' went an' tola hen" 
 
244 Pollyanna 
 
 " 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. Pen- 
 dleton 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 ? " 
 flis voice was not quite steady this time. 
 
 A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face. 
 
 '* I can't, I wish I could ! " 
 
John Pendleton 245 
 
 " 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 spe- 
 ciaHst. 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 — broVer. She says she's 
 glad it's broken legs like yours rather than * life- 
 long-invalids ' like Mrs. Snow's ; because broker; 
 kgs get well, and the other — doesn't. She talks 
 
246 PoUyanna 
 
 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 leav^ 
 Aunt Polly — now ! " 
 
 It was this thought that made him ask very 
 g-ently, 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 1 '' 
 
 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 
 
John Pendleton 247 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna's own words uttered that very morning: "I 
 love to be called ' dear ' by folks that belong to 
 you ! " And it w^as 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 some- 
 thing 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 w^anted her to 
 stay," he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet. 
 
 He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned 
 
248 PoUyanna 
 
 his face resolutely toward the door. But instantly 
 he heard a swift step at his side, and found sl 
 shaking hand thrust toward him. 
 
 " When the specialist comes, and I know any- 
 thing — 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 v/ant 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, Pd so love to 
 have Dr. Chilton! Pve wanted him all the time, 
 but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his see- 
 ing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so 
 I didn't like to say anything. But Pm so glad you 
 do want him ! " 
 
 Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, 
 then back to white again. But when she answered, 
 
 249 
 
250 PoUyanna 
 
 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 doc- 
 tor 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 Dn 
 Chilton." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear." 
 
 " But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pen- 
 dleton's broken leg, Aunt Polly. If — if you don't 
 mind very much, I zfould 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." 
 
A Waiting Game 251 
 
 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 Fm afraid you'll have to let me be 
 the judge, this time. Besides, it's already ar- 
 ranged. 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 sub- 
 stitution 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 
 Hiore anxious q^ssurance that she would do anything 
 
^52 PoUyanna 
 
 — anything but that — to please her dear PoUy- 
 anna. 
 
 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 Polly- 
 anna ! 
 
 " 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 Polly- 
 anna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes 
 ail shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if 
 
A Waiting Game 253 
 
 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 al- 
 most — " 
 
 " Keerf ul, 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 ow^n 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 
 lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I 
 hain't!" 
 
 " Hain't ye ? " asked the old man, with an odd 
 
254 Pollyanna 
 
 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, ab- 
 ruptly, the light died from his eyes. '' How is she, 
 ter-day — the little gal ? " 
 
 Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had so- 
 bered. 
 
 " 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 sweeC 
 heart! " nodded Old Tom, bhnking a httle. 
 
 " 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 
 £aid?" 
 
A Waiting Game 255 
 
 " 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. 
 
 " 1 was only thinkin' 'twould be — some of a sur- 
 prise-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'ry- 
 where, now, since she was hurted," said Tom. 
 
 "Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly," rejoined 
 
"156 PoUyanna 
 
 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 anc impa- 
 tient. 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 — Polly- 
 anna 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 
 
A Waiting Game 257 
 
 inquiry that were brought to her bedside. But she, 
 too, grew pale and thin; and the nervous activity 
 of the poor Httle 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 special- 
 ist, 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, / wanted 
 Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted 
 
 258 
 
A Door Ajar 250 
 
 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 in- 
 sistent 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 bed- 
 
260 PoUyanna 
 
 room 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 ! " stum- 
 bled 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 bring- 
 ing the woman in Dr. Mead's arms back to unhappy 
 consciousness. 
 
 In Pollyanna's room, the nurse had found a purr= 
 ing 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 hur- 
 riedly. 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?" 
 
 P^Ijanna shook her head. 
 
A Door Ajar ^61 
 
 " 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 Polly- 
 anna's tyts. 
 
 " 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 cauo-ht her breath and sobbed wildly for a 
 
g62 PoUyanna 
 
 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 no^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 every- 
 thing 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 juct then. 
 
CHAPTER :^XVII 
 
 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 Plouse 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 re- 
 sponse to the surprised questioning of his eyes, 
 when he came into the room. " Miss Harrington 
 sent me to tell you about — Miss Pollyanna." 
 
 '^Well?" 
 
 263 
 
264 Pollyanna 
 
 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 
 wnat 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 
 
Two Visits 265 
 
 the door an' Miss Pollyanna overheard 'em Ulkin'. 
 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 thmkin' all the time of new things she 
 can't do — . jOw. It worries her, too, 'cause she 
 can't seem ter be glad — maybe you don't know 
 about her game, though," broke off Nancy, apolo- 
 getically. 
 
 ''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." 
 
me PoUyanna 
 
 " 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'.e 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 thinkiii' 
 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 tim- 
 idly: 
 
 " I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that — 
 that you'd seen Jimmy Bean again, I s'pose, sir, 
 could I?" 
 
Two Visits 267 
 
 " 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 YQxy well that day, and that she was afraid you 
 didn t think he would make a very nice child's pres- 
 ence, 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 par- 
 don, sir. Good-by ! " And Nancy fled precipi- 
 tately. 
 
 It did not take long for the entire town of Bel- 
 dingsville to learn that the great Nev/ 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. 
 
PoUyanna 
 
 that now never again would that smiHng face be 
 seen on their streets — never again would that 
 cheery little voice proclaim the gladness of some 
 everyday experience! It seemed unbelievable, im- 
 possible, 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^arring- 
 ton homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to 
 receive calls : calls from people she knew, and peo- 
 ple she did not know ; calls from men, women, and 
 children — many of whom Miss Polly had not sup- 
 posed 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 
 
Two Visits m9 
 
 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 furioush^ But all inquired very anx- 
 iously for the little injured girl; and all sent to 
 her some message — and it was these message? 
 which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action. 
 
 First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came with- 
 out 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 almo^ no hope." 
 
 John Pendleton rose abruptly — though he had 
 but just come. His face was white, and his m.outh 
 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. 
 
g70 PoUyanna 
 
 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, si- 
 lent and amazed, still looking after the man who 
 had just left her. Even yet she could scarcely be- 
 lieve what her ears had heard. John Pendleton 
 adopt Jimmy Bean? John Pendleton, wealthy, in- 
 dependent, morose, reputed to be miserly and su- 
 premely 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 teil you he has taken Jimm}^ Bean for his little 
 boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know 
 it.'* 
 
Two Visits 271 
 
 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 Auht' 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. 
 
 % 
 
272 Foiiyanna 
 
 Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask fur- 
 ther 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 sorrow- 
 ful." 
 
 ''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. Tvliss Polly's eyes had 
 
Two Visits 273 
 
 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 embar- 
 rassed 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 
 
 274 
 
The Game and Its Players 275 
 
 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 w^ay, however, could 
 she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmean- 
 ing rush of w^ords. 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 differ- 
 ent ; but I want her to know how different she is — 
 and me, too. I'm different. I've been trying tc 
 play it — the game — a little." 
 
 Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what 
 Milly meant by this " game," but there was no 
 
276 PoUyanna 
 
 opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with 
 nervous volubihty. 
 
 " 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 Polly- 
 anna'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 dif- 
 ferent room it is now, what with the red and blue 
 and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the win- 
 dow 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 Polly- 
 
The Game and Its Players 277 
 
 anna 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, won- 
 dering 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. Ben- 
 ton 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 diffi- 
 dently if she mig-ht see PoUyanna. 
 
 Miss Polly shook her head. 
 
 " I am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little 
 later — perhaps." 
 
^78 PoUyanna 
 
 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 httle 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 a//. I have now. 
 The others have all — " Mrs. Benton shook her 
 head and turned away. " If you'll just tell Polly- 
 anna — shell 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. 
 IMiss 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 
 
The Game and Its Players 279 
 
 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 
 snd 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, 
 
g80 Pollyanna 
 
 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. 
 
 "Well, 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-nothingymuch, Aunt Polly ; that is — I ean't 
 tell it unless I- tell '^^^^'hec. things that — that I'm not 
 to speak of.'' 
 
 It was on Miss Pollv^s tongue to question her 
 niece further: but the obvious distress on the little 
 
The Game and Its Players 281 
 
 -' 
 
 girl's face stayed the words before they were ut- 
 tered. 
 
 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 
 spc^e. Her chin was still at a slightly defiant 
 tilt. 
 
 " My name is Mrs. Payson — Mrs. Tom Payson. 
 T presume youVe heard of me — most of the good 
 people in the town have = — and maybe some of the 
 
282 PoUyanna 
 
 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 use- 
 lessly 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 Pen- 
 dleton 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 v\^as 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 ©' good. How^ much she won't know — nor 
 
The Game and Its Players 283 
 
 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 get- 
 ting a divorce about novv', and letting the kids — - 
 well, we didn't know what we w^ould do with the 
 kids. Then came the accident, and what we heard 
 about the little girl's never walking again. And 
 Yve 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, some- 
 times. Just how the game is going to help us, I 
 can't say that I exactly see, 3^et; but maybe 'twill. 
 
284 Pollyanna 
 
 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, culmina- 
 ting as they had in the extraordinary experience of 
 the afternoon, had strained her nerves to the snap- 
 ping 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 
 
The Game and Its Players 285 
 
 'ill ft' I .J b ' , ' ■ ■ = 
 
 putting on blue ribbons, or stopping family quarrels, 
 or learning to like something they never liked be- 
 fore, 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 Polly- 
 anna'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 
 
286 Pollyanna 
 
 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 
 coxild 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 — fmdin' 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 didnt 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 al- 
 most the eagerness of Pollyanna herself. " I wish 
 I could tell ye what a lot she's done for mother an' 
 
The Game and Its Players ^87 
 
 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 m.ade 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 
 inystery of it, when I asked her? " 
 
288 PoUyanna 
 
 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'ryv/here 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 any- 
 thin' 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," 
 
The Game and Its Players 289 
 
 choked Miss Polly, as she turned and sped through 
 the kitchen doorway. 
 
 Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly. 
 
 '' Well, I'll believe any thin' — anythin' now," she 
 muttered to herself. " Ye can't stump me with any- 
 thin' I wouldn't believe now — o' Miss Polly ! " 
 
 A little later, in Pollyanna's roc a, 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. Pay- 
 son?" 
 
 " 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 hus- 
 band — 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 oi their being so poor," resumed PollyanDa, t5 
 
290 PoUyanna 
 
 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 
 ^ver, ever go up to see Mr. Pendleton again ? " 
 
 " There, there, don't," choked her aunt. " Per- 
 haps 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." 
 
The Game and Its Players 291 
 
 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 VoWy — 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 morn- 
 ing 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 
 
292 Pollyanna 
 
 he hadn't stopped being glad over those eight hun- 
 dred 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 reso- 
 lutely, 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 won- 
 dered what poor folks did that didn't have any 
 door! Arid 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 
 
 293 
 
294 Pollyanna 
 
 that trailed their cheery lengths across the white 
 spread, and made Pollyanna — again like Mrs. 
 Snow — so glad she had her hands and arms, any- 
 way. 
 
 Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and al- 
 ways 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 anx- 
 ious 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. 
 
Through an Open Window 295 
 
 Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed con- 
 cerning PoUyanna; and of Beldingsville, one man 
 in particular fumed and fretted himself into a fever 
 of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he man- 
 aged in some way to procure from the bed of suf- 
 fering. 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 m.astery. 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 Chil^ 
 ton. 
 
 '^ Pendleton," began the doctor, abruptly, '^ Pve 
 come to you because 3^ou, 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 Chil- 
 ton, 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 
 
296 PoUyanna 
 
 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 examina- 
 tion." 
 
 *^ 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 sum- 
 mons ? " 
 
 The doctor frowned. 
 
 " Well, hardly. / have some pride, you 
 know." 
 
 " But if you're so anxious — couldn't you swal- 
 low 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 
 
Through an Open Window 297 
 
 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 doc- 
 tor. 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 an- 
 grily. " 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 com- 
 pared 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. Pendle- 
 ton, 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 
 
g98 PoUyanna 
 
 kneeling beneath tLe window on the ground out- 
 side. 
 
 Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of 
 pulling up the first little green weeds of the flower- 
 beds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open„ 
 
 " Walk ! Pollyanna ! " John Pendleton was say< 
 ing. " 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 1 " 
 
 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 con- 
 sultation with me at the first, but — Miss Harring- 
 ton 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 
 
Through an Open Window 
 
 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 con- 
 founded 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 under- 
 stand," 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, 
 miserablvo 
 
soo PoUyanna 
 
 Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred sud- 
 denly. Up to now he had scarcely breathed, so in- 
 tently had he listened to every word. 
 
 " Well, by Jinks, I know ! " he whispered, exult- 
 ingly. " Fm a-goin' ter do it ! " And forthwith he 
 rose to his feet, crept stealthily around the comer 
 of the house, and ran with all his might down Pen- 
 dleton HiiL 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
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. Til 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 doln', 
 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 
 
 301 
 
302 Pollyanna 
 
 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 Fm 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 f ^' 
 
Jimmy Takes the Helm 303 
 
 " '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 Polly- 
 anna — walk ! " 
 
 " Jimmy, what do you mean? " Miss Polly was 
 leaning forward eagerly. 
 
 " There, I told ye so," nodded Jimmy, con- 
 tentedly. " 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 fin- 
 gers 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 
 
304 l^oilyanna 
 
 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 some- 
 body 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 under- 
 stand?" 
 
 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 
 
Jimmy Takes the Helm 305 
 
 He was still more suq)rised 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 re- 
 fused. 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. V/ith very pink cheeks she 
 turned and left the room hurriedly. 
 
 9CI9 
 
A New Uncle 307 
 
 Over in the window the nurse and Dr. AVarren 
 were talking earnestljo 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, wonder- 
 fully different Aunt Polly crept to Pollyanna's bed- 
 side. 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. 
 
308 PoUyanna 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
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 dooi, 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. / wanted to sing 
 and shout and yell ! Oh — oh — oh ! Just think, 
 I can walk' — walk- — zvalk! 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 
 
 809 
 
810 PoUyanna 
 
 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, Pm so glad ! Pm 
 glad for everything. Why, Pm 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." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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