Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor Hodgman Porter
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âWell, of all theââ ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture. He started forward again, but after the second step he turned back, still frowning.
âSee here, why donât you find some one your own age to talk to?â
âIâd like to, sir, but there arenât any âround here, Nancy says. Still, I donât mind so very much. I like old folks just as well, maybe better, sometimesâbeing used to the Ladiesâ Aid, so.â
âHumph! The Ladiesâ Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?â The manâs lips were threatening to smile, but the scowl above them was still trying to hold them grimly stern.
Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
âOh, no, sir. You donât look a mite like a Ladiesâ Aiderânot but that youâre just as good, of courseâmaybe better,â she added in hurried politeness. âYou see, Iâm sure youâre much nicer than you look!â
The man made a queer noise in his throat.
âWell, of all theââ he ejaculated again, as he turned and strode on as before.
The next time Pollyanna met the Man, his eyes were gazing straight into hers, with a quizzical directness that made his face look really pleasant, Pollyanna thought.
âGood afternoon,â he greeted her a little stiffly. âPerhaps Iâd better say right away that I KNOW the sun is shining to-day.â
âBut you donât have to tell me,â nodded Pollyanna, brightly. âI KNEW you knew it just as soon as I saw you.â
âOh, you did, did you?â
âYes, sir; I saw it in your eyes, you know, and in your smile.â
âHumph!â 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 âgood afternoon.â Even that, however, was a great surprise to Nancy, who chanced to be with Pollyanna one day when the greeting was given.
âSakes alive, Miss Pollyanna,â she gasped, âdid that man SPEAK TO YOU?â
âWhy, yes, he always doesânow,â smiled Pollyanna.
â âHe always doesâ! Goodness! Do you know whoâheâis?â demanded Nancy.
Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
âI reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of the introducing, but he didnât.â
Nancyâs eyes widened.
âBut he never speaks ter anybody, childâhe hainât for years, I guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that. Heâs John Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill. He wonât even have any one âround ter cook for himâcomes down ter the hotel for his meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits on him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter tell what he wants ter eat. She has ter guess it moreân half the timeâonly itâll be somethinâ CHEAP! She knows that without no tellinâ.â
Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
âI know. You have to look for cheap things when youâre 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 beansâthat 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?â
âLike âem! What if he doesâor donât? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he ainât poor. Heâs got loads of money, John Pendleton hasâfrom his father. There ainât nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat dollar bills, if he wanted toâand not know it.â
Pollyanna giggled.
âAs if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it, Nancy, when they come to try to chew âem!â
âHo! I mean heâs rich enough ter do it,â shrugged Nancy. âHe ainât spendinâ his money, thatâs all. Heâs a-savinâ of it.â
âOh, for the heathen,â surmised Pollyanna. âHow perfectly splendid! Thatâs denying yourself and taking up your cross. I know; father told me.â
Nancyâs lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry words all ready to come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyannaâs jubilantly trustful face, saw something that prevented the words being spoken.
âHumph!â she vouchsafed. Then, showing her old-time interest, she went on: âBut, say, it is queer, his speakinâ to you, honestly, Miss Pollyanna. He donât 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 heâs crazy, and some jest cross; and some says heâs got a skeleton in his closet.â
âOh, Nancy!â shuddered Pollyanna. âHow can he keep such a dreadful thing? I should think heâd throw it away!â
Nancy chuckled. That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead of figuratively, she knew very well; but, perversely, she refrained from correcting the mistake.
âAnd EVERYBODY says heâs mysterious,â she went on. âSome years he jest travels, week in and week out, and itâs always in heathen countriesâEgypt and Asia and the Desert of Sarah, you know.â
âOh, a missionary,â nodded Pollyanna.
Nancy laughed oddly.
âWell, I didnât say that, Miss Pollyanna. When he comes back he writes booksâqueer, odd books, they say, about some gimcrack heâs found in them heathen countries. But he donât never seem ter want ter spend no money hereâleastways, not for jest livinâ.â
âOf course notâif heâs saving it for the heathen,â declared Pollyanna. âBut he is a funny man, and heâs different, too, just like Mrs. Snow, only heâs a different different.â
âWell, I guess he isârather,â chuckled Nancy.
âIâm gladderân ever now, anyhow, that he speaks to me,â sighed Pollyanna contentedly.
CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as at first, in a darkened room.
âItâs the little girl from Miss Pollyâs, mother,â announced Milly, in a tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with the invalid.
âOh, itâs you, is it?â asked a fretful voice from the bed. âI remember you. ANYbodyâd remember you, I guess, if they saw you once. I wish you had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday.â
âDid you? Well, Iâm glad âtisnât any farther away from yesterday than to-day is, then,â laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into the room, and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. âMy! but arenât you dark here, though? I canât see you a bit,â she cried, unhesitatingly crossing to the window and pulling up the shade. âI want to see if youâve fixed your hair like I didâoh, you havenât! But, never mind; Iâm glad you havenât, after all, âcause maybe youâll let me do itâlater. But now I want you to see what Iâve brought you.â
The woman stirred restlessly.
âJust as if how it looks would make any difference in how it tastes,â she scoffedâbut she turned her eyes toward the basket. âWell, what is it?â
âGuess! What do you want?â Pollyanna had skipped back to the basket. Her face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
âWhy, I donât WANT anything, as I know of,â she sighed. âAfter all, they all taste alike!â
Pollyanna chuckled.
âThis wonât. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?â
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 impossibleâuntil she knew what she had. Obviously, however, she must say something. This extraordinary child was waiting.
âWell, of course, thereâs lamb brothââ
âIâve got it!â crowed Pollyanna.
âBut thatâs what I DIDNâT want,â sighed the sick woman, sure now of what her stomach craved. âIt was chicken I wanted.â
âOh, Iâve got that, too,â chuckled Pollyanna.
The woman turned in amazement.
âBoth of them?â she demanded.
âYesâand calfâs-foot jelly,â triumphed Pollyanna. âI was just bound you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of course, thereâs only a little of eachâbut thereâs some of all of âem! Iâm so glad you did want chicken,â she went on contentedly, as she lifted the three little bowls from her basket. âYou see, I got to thinking on the way hereâwhat if you should say tripe, or onions, or something like that, that I didnât have! Wouldnât it have been a shameâwhen Iâd tried so hard?â she laughed merrily.
There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be tryingâmentally to find something she had lost.
âThere! Iâm to leave them all,â announced Pollyanna, as she arranged the three bowls in a row on the table. âLike enough itâll be lamb broth you want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?â she finished in polite inquiry.
âVery poorly, thank you,â murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into her usual listless attitude. âI lost my nap this morning. Nellie Higgins next door has begun music lessons, and her practising drives me nearly wild. She was at it all the morningâevery minute! Iâm sure, I donât know what I shall do!â
Polly nodded sympathetically.
âI know. It IS awful! Mrs. White had it onceâone of my Ladiesâ Aiders, you know. She had rheumatic fever, too, at the same time, so she couldnât thrash âround. She said âtwould have been easier if she could have. Can you?â
âCan Iâwhat?â
âThrash âroundâmove, you know, so as to change your position when the music gets too hard to stand.â
Mrs. Snow stared a little.
âWhy, of course I can moveâanywhereâin bed,â she rejoined a little irritably.
âWell, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow. canât you?â nodded Pollyanna. âMrs. White couldnât. You canât thrash when you have rheumatic feverâthough you want to something awful, Mrs. White says. She told me afterwards she reckoned sheâd have gone raving crazy if it hadnât been for Mr. Whiteâs sisterâs earsâbeing deaf, so.â
âSisterâsâEARS! What do you mean?â
Pollyanna laughed.
âWell, I reckon I didnât tell it all, and I forgot you didnât know Mrs. White. You see, Miss White was deafâawfully deaf; and she came to visit âem 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 didnât mind so much that she DID hear it, âcause she couldnât help thinking how awful âtwould be if she was deaf and couldnât hear anything, like her husbandâs sister. You see, she was playing the game, too. Iâd told her about it.â
âTheâgame?â
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
âThere! I âmost forgot; but Iâve thought it up, Mrs. Snowâwhat you can be glad about.â
âGLAD about! What do you mean?â
âWhy, I told you I would. Donât you remember? You asked me to tell you something to be glad aboutâglad, you know, even though you did have to lie here abed all day.â
âOh!â scoffed the woman. âTHAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didnât suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.â
âOh, yes, I was,â nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; âand I found it, too. But âTWAS hard. Itâs all the more fun, though, always, when âtis hard. And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldnât think of anything for a while. Then I got it.â
âDid you, really? Well, what is it?â Mrs. Snowâs voice was sarcastically polite.
Pollyanna drew a long breath.
âI thoughtâhow glad you could beâthat other folks werenât like youâall sick in bed like this, you
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