Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) š
- Author: Eleanor Hodgman Porter
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āNothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism,ā said Aunt Polly, whose whole face now was aflame.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS
It was not long after John Pendletonās second visit that Milly Snow called one afternoon. Milly Snow had never before been to the Harrington homestead. She blushed and looked very embarrassed when Miss Polly entered the room.
āIāI came to inquire for the little girl,ā she stammered.
āYou are very kind. She is about the same. How is your mother?ā rejoined Miss Polly, wearily.
āThat is what I came to tell youāthat is, to ask you to tell Miss Pollyanna,ā hurried on the girl, breathlessly and incoherently. āWe think itāsāso awfulāso perfectly awful that the little thing canāt ever walk again; and after all sheās done for us, tooāfor mother, you know, teaching her to play the game, and all that. And when we heard how now she couldnāt play it herselfāpoor little dear! Iām sure I donāt see how she CAN, either, in her condition!ābut when we remembered all the things sheād 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 gladāthat is, a little gladāā 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 āqueer,ā but she had not supposed she was crazy. In no other way, however, could she account for this incoherent, illogical, unmeaning rush of words. When the pause came she filled it with a quiet:
āI donāt think I quite understand, Milly. Just what is it that you want me to tell my niece?ā
āYes, thatās it; I want you to tell her,ā answered the girl, feverishly. āMake her see what sheās done for us. Of course sheās SEEN some things, because sheās been there, and sheās known mother is different; but I want her to know HOW different she isāand me, too. Iām different. Iāve been trying to play itāthe gameāa little.ā
Miss Polly frowned. She would have asked what Milly meant by this āgame,ā but there was no opportunity. Milly was rushing on again with nervous volubility.
āYou know nothing was ever right beforeāfor mother. She was always wanting āem different. And, really, I donāt know as one could blame her muchāunder the circumstances. But now she lets me keep the shades up, and she takes interest in thingsāhow she looks, and her nightdress, and all that. And sheās actually begun to knit little thingsāreins and baby blankets for fairs and hospitals. And sheās so interested, and so GLAD to think she can do it!āand that was all Miss Pollyannaās doings, you know, ācause she told mother she could be glad sheād got her hands and arms, anyway; and that made mother wonder right away why she didnāt DO something with her hands and arms. And so she began to do somethingāto knit, you know. And you canāt think what a different room it is now, what with the red and blue and yellow worsteds, and the prisms in the window that SHE gave herāwhy, 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 soāso unhappy, you know.
āAnd so we want you to please tell Miss Pollyanna that we understand itās all because of her. And please say weāre so glad we know her, that we thought, maybe if she knew it, it would make her a little glad that she knew us. Andāand thatās all,ā sighed Milly, rising hurriedly to her feet. āYouāll tell her?ā
āWhy, of course,ā murmured Miss Polly, wondering just how much of this remarkable discourse she could remember to tell.
These visits of John Pendleton and Milly Snow were only the first of many; and always there were the messagesāthe 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 townāone who was always in black. To-day, however, Mrs. Benton wore a knot of pale blue at the throat, though there were tears in her eyes. She spoke of her grief and horror at the accident; then she asked diffidently if she might see Pollyanna.
Miss Polly shook her head.
āI am sorry, but she sees no one yet. A little laterāperhaps.ā
Mrs. Benton wiped her eyes, rose, and turned to go. But after she had almost reached the hall door she came back hurriedly.
āMiss Harrington, perhaps, youād give herāa message,ā she stammered.
āCertainly, Mrs. Benton; I shall be very glad to.ā
Still the little woman hesitated; then she spoke.
āWill you tell her, please, thatāthat Iāve put on THIS,ā she said, just touching the blue bow at her throat. Then, at Miss Pollyās ill-concealed look of surprise, she added: āThe little girl has been trying for so long to make me wearāsome color, that I thought sheād beāglad to know Iād begun. She said that Freddy would be so glad to see it, if I would. You know Freddyās ALL I have now. The others have allāā Mrs. Benton shook her head and turned away. āIf youāll just tell PollyannaāSHEāLL understand.ā And the door closed after her.
A little later, that same day, there was the other widowāat least, she wore widowās garments. Miss Polly did not know her at all. She wondered vaguely how Pollyanna could have known her. The lady gave her name as āMrs. Tarbell.ā
āIām a stranger to you, of course,ā she began at once. āBut Iām not a stranger to your little niece, Pollyanna. Iāve been at the hotel all summer, and every day Iāve had to take long walks for my health. It was on these walks that Iāve met your nieceāsheās such a dear little girl! I wish I could make you understand what sheās been to me. I was very sad when I came up here; and her bright face and cheery ways reminded me ofāmy 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 couldnāt be glad any longerāthe dear child!āI just had to come to you.ā
āYou are very kind,ā murmured Miss Polly.
āBut it is you who are to be kind,ā demurred the other. āIāI want you to give her a message from me. Will you?ā
āCertainly.ā
āWill you just tell her, then, that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now. Yes, I know it sounds odd, and you donāt understand. Butāif youāll pardon me Iād rather not explain.ā Sad lines came to the ladyās mouth, and the smile left her eyes. āYour niece will know just what I mean; and I felt that I must tellāher. Thank you; and pardon me, please, for any seeming rudeness in my call,ā she begged, as she took her leave.
Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to Pollyannaās room.
āPollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?
āOh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. Sheās sick, and awfully sad; and sheās at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I meanāwe used to.ā Pollyannaās voice broke, and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.
Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
āWeāll, sheās just been here, dear. She left a message for youābut she wouldnāt tell me what it meant. She said to tell you that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now.ā
Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
āDid she say thatāreally? Oh, Iām so glad!
āBut, Pollyanna, what did she mean?ā
āWhy, itās the game, andāā Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers to her lips.
āWhat game?ā
āN-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that isāI canāt tell it unless I tell other things thatāthat Iām not to speak of.ā
It was on Miss Pollyās tongue to question her niece further; but the obvious distress on the little girlās face stayed the words before they were uttered.
Not long after Mrs. Tarbellās 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 reputationābut 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 womanās pleading eyes made her add the civil explanation that no one was allowed yet to see Pollyanna.
The woman hesitated; then a little brusquely she spoke. Her chin was still at a slightly defiant tilt.
āMy name is Mrs. PaysonāMrs. Tom Payson. I presume youāve heard of meāmost of the good people in the town haveāand maybe some of the things youāve heard aināt true. But never mind that. Itās about the little girl I came. I heard about the accident, andāand it broke me all up. Last week I heard how she couldnāt ever walk again, andāand I wished I could give up my two uselessly well legs for hers. Sheād do more good trotting around on āem one hour than I could in a hundred years. But never mind that. Legs aināt always given to the one who can make the best use of āem, I notice.ā
She paused, and cleared her throat; but when she resumed her voice was still husky.
āMaybe you donāt know it, but Iāve seen a good deal of that little girl of yours. We live on the Pendleton Hill road, and she used to go by oftenāonly she didnāt always GO BY. She came in and played with the kids and talked to meāand my man, when he was home. She seemed to like it, and to like us. She didnāt know, I suspect, that her kind of folks donāt generally call on my kind. Maybe if they DID call more, Miss Harrington, there wouldnāt be so manyāof my kind,ā she added, with sudden bitterness.
āBe that as it may, she came; and she didnāt do herself no harm, and she did do us goodāa lot oā good. How much she wonāt knowānor canāt know, I hope; ācause if she did, sheād know other thingsāthat I donāt want her to know.
āBut itās just this. Itās been hard times with us this year, in more ways than one. Weāve been blue and discouragedāmy man and me, and ready forāāmost anything. We was reckoning on getting a divorce about now, and letting the kids well, we didnāt know what we would do with the kids, Then came the accident, and what we heard about the little girlās never walking again. And we got to thinking how she used to come
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