Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor Hodgman Porter
- Performer: -
Book online «Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) đ». Author Eleanor Hodgman Porter
On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking calfâs-foot jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna were the best of friends now. Their friendship had started from the third visit Pollyanna had made, the one after she had told Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was playing the game now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it very wellâshe had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyannaâs cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast. To-day, even, to Pollyannaâs huge delight, she had said that she was glad Pollyanna brought calfâs-foot jelly, because that was just what she had been wantingâshe did not know that Milly, at the front door, had told Pollyanna that the ministerâs wife had already that day sent over a great bowlful of that same kind of jelly.
Pollyanna was thinking of this now when suddenly she saw the boy.
The boy was sitting in a disconsolate little heap by the roadside, whittling half-heartedly at a small stick.
âHullo,â smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
âHullo yourself,â he mumbled.
Pollyanna laughed.
âNow you donât look as if youâd be glad even for calfâs-foot jelly,â she chuckled, stopping before him.
The boy stirred restlessly, gave her a surprised look, and began to whittle again at his stick, with the dull, broken-bladed knife in his hand.
Pollyanna hesitated, then dropped herself comfortably down on the grass near him. In spite of Pollyannaâs brave assertion that she was âused to Ladiesâ Aiders,â and âdidnât mind,â she had sighed at times for some companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this one.
âMy nameâs Pollyanna Whittier,â she began pleasantly. âWhatâs yours?â
Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he settled back.
âJimmy Bean,â he grunted with ungracious indifference.
âGood! Now weâre introduced. Iâm glad you did your partâsome folks donât, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harringtonâs house. Where do you live?â
âNowhere.â
âNowhere! Why, you canât do thatâeverybody lives somewhere,â asserted Pollyanna.
âWell, I donâtâjust now. Iâm huntinâ up a new place.â
âOh! Where is it?â
The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
âSilly! As if Iâd be a-huntinâ for itâif I knew!â
Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she did not like to be called âsilly.â Still, he was somebody besidesâold folks. Where did you liveâbefore?â she queried.
âWell, if you ainât the beatâem for askinâ questions!â sighed the boy impatiently.
âI have to be,â retorted Pollyanna calmly, âelse I couldnât find out a thing about you. If youâd talk more I wouldnât talk so much.â
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.
âAll right thenâhere goes! Iâm Jimmy Bean, and Iâm ten years old goinâ on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphansâ Home; but theyâve got so many kids there ainât much room for me, anâ I waânât never wanted, anyhow, I donât believe. So Iâve quit. Iâm goinâ ter live somewheres elseâbut I hainât found the place, yet. Iâd LIKE a homeâjest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; anâ I hainât had folks sinceâdad died. So Iâm a-huntinâ now. Iâve tried four houses, butâthey didnât want meâthough I said I expected ter work, âcourse. There! Is that all you want ter know?â The boyâs voice had broken a little over the last two sentences.
âWhy, what a shame!â sympathized Pollyanna. âAnd didnât there anybody want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because afterâafter my father died, too, there wasnât anybody but the Ladiesâ Aid for me, until Aunt Polly said sheâd takeââ Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
âOh, I know just the place for you,â she cried. âAunt Pollyâll take youâI know she will! Didnât she take me? And didnât she take Fluffy and Buffy, when they didnât have any one to love them, or any place to go?âand theyâre only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Pollyâll take you! You donât know how good and kind she is!
Jimmy Beanâs thin little face brightened.
âHonest Injun? Would she, now? Iâd work, ye know, anâ Iâm real strong!â He bared a small, bony arm.
âOf course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the worldânow that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And thereâs roomsâheaps of âem,â she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging at his arm. âItâs an awful big house. Maybe, though,â she added a little anxiously, as they hurried on, âmaybe youâll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at first. But thereâs screens there now, so âtwonât be so hot, and the flies canât get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet. Did you know about that? Itâs perfectly lovely! Maybe sheâll let you read the book if youâre goodâI mean, if youâre bad. And youâve got freckles, too,ââwith a critical glanceââso youâll be glad there isnât any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any wall-one could be, so you wonât mind sleeping in that room at all, Iâm sure,â panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than talking.
âGorry!â exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but admiringly. Then he added: âI shouldnât think anybody who could talk like that, runninâ, would need ter ask no questions ter fill up time with!â
Pollyanna laughed.
âWell, anyhow, you can be glad of that,â she retorted; âfor when Iâm talking, YOU donât have to!â
When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
âOh, Aunt Polly,â she triumphed. âjust look a-here! Iâve got something ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you to bring up. Itâs a real live boy. He wonât mind a bit sleeping in the attic, at first, you know, and he says heâll work; but I shall need him the most of the time to play with, I reckon.â
Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite understand; but she thought she understood enough.
âPollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy? Where did you find him?â she demanded sharply.
The âdirty little boyâ fell back a step and looked toward the door. Pollyanna laughed merrily.
âThere, if I didnât forget to tell you his name! Iâm as bad as the Man. And he is dirty, too, isnât he?âI mean, the boy isâjust like Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I reckon heâll improve all right by washing, just as they did, andâOh, I âmost forgot again,â she broke off with a laugh. âThis is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly.â
âWell, what is he doing here?â
âWhy, Aunt Polly, I just told you!â Pollyannaâs eyes were wide with surprise. âHeâs for you. I brought him homeâso he could live here, you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how good you were to me, and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you would be to him, because of course heâs even nicer than cats and dogs.â
Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to her throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to overcome her. With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled herself suddenly erect.
âThat will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing youâve done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs werenât bad enough but you must needs bring home ragged little beggars from the street, whoââ
There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his chin came up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he confronted Miss Polly fearlessly.
âI ainât a beggar, marm, anâ I donât want nothinâ oâ you. I was calâlatinâ ter work, of course, fur my board anâ keep. I wouldnât have come ter your old house, anyhow, if this âere girl hadnât âaâ made me, a-tellinâ me how you was so good anâ kind that youâd be jest dyinâ ter take me in. So, there!â And he wheeled about and stalked from the room with a dignity that would have been absurd had it not been so pitiful.
âOh, Aunt Polly,â choked Pollyanna. âWhy, I thought youâd be GLAD to have him here! Iâm sure, I should think youâd be gladââ
Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss Pollyâs nerves had snapped at last. The âgood and kindâ of the boyâs words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom of her will power.
âPollyanna,â she cried sharply, âWILL you stop using that everlasting word âgladâ! Itâs âgladâââgladâââgladâ from morning till night until I think I shall grow wild!â
From sheer amazement Pollyannaâs jaw dropped.
âWhy, Aunt Polly,â she breathed, âI should think youâd be glad to have me glâOh!â she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying blindly from the room.
Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook him.
âBoy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know howâhow sorry I am,â she panted, catching him with a detaining hand.
âSorry nothinâ! I ainât blaminâ you,â retorted the boy, sullenly. âBut I ainât no beggar!â he added, with sudden spirit.
âOf course you arenât! But you mustnât blame auntie,â appealed Pollyanna. âProbably I didnât do the introducing right, anyhow; and I reckon I didnât tell her much who you were. She is good and kind, reallyâsheâs always been; but I probably didnât explain it right. I do wish I could find some place for you, though!â
The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
âNever mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ainât no beggar, you know.â
Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face illumined.
âSay, Iâll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladiesâ Aid meets this afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. Iâll lay your case before them. Thatâs what father always did, when he wanted anythingâeducating the heathen and new carpets, you know.â
The boy turned fiercely.
âWell, I ainât a heathen or a new carpet. Besidesâwhat is a Ladiesâ Aid?â
Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.
âWhy, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up?ânot to know what a Ladiesâ Aid is!â
âOh, all rightâif you ainât tellinâ,â grunted the boy, turning and beginning to walk away indifferently.
Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.
âItâsâitâsâwhy, itâs just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give suppers and raise money andâand talk; thatâs what a Ladiesâ Aid is. Theyâre awfully kindâthat is, most of mine was, back home. I havenât seen this one here, but theyâre always good, I reckon. Iâm going to tell them about you this afternoon.â
Again the boy turned fiercely.
âNot much you will! Maybe you think Iâm goinâ ter stand âround anâ hear a whole LOT oâ women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!â
âOh, but you wouldnât be there,â argued Pollyanna, quickly. âIâd
Comments (0)