Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor Hodgman Porter
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âBut itâs true. She told me so herself,â maintained Nancy. âItâs her niece; and sheâs eleven years old.â
The manâs jaw fell.
âSho!âI wonder, now,â he muttered; then a tender light came into his faded eyes. âIt ainâtâbut it must beâMiss Jennieâs little gal! There wasnât none of the rest of âem married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss Jennieâs little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes a-seeinâ this! â
âWho was Miss Jennie?
âShe was an angel straight out of Heaven,â breathed the man, fervently; âbut 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 whatâs a-cominâ.â
âSheâs eleven years old.â
âYes, she might be,â nodded the old man.
âAnd sheâs goinâ ter sleep in the atticâmore shame ter HER!â 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.
Iâm a-wonderinâ what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,â he said.
âHumph! Well, Iâm a-wonderinâ what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house!â snapped Nancy.
The old man laughed.
âIâm afraid you ainât fond of Miss Polly,â he grinned.
âAs if ever anybody could be fond of her!â scorned Nancy.
Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
âI guess maybe you didnât know about Miss Pollyâs love affair,â he said slowly.
âLove affairâHER! No!âand I guess nobody else didnât, neither.â
âOh, yes they did,â nodded the old man. âAnd the fellerâs livinâ ter-dayâright in this town, too.â
âWho is he?â
âI ainât a-tellinâ that. It ainât fit that I should.â The old man drew himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the loyal servantâs honest pride in the family he has served and loved for long years.
âBut it donât seem possibleâher and a lover,â still maintained Nancy.
Old Tom shook his head.
âYou didnât know Miss Polly as I did,â he argued. âShe used ter be real handsomeâand she would be now, if sheâd let herself be.â
âHandsome! Miss Polly!â
âYes. If sheâd 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 âem, and the kind oâ dresses all lace and white thingsâyouâd see sheâd be handsome! Miss Polly ainât old, Nancy.â
âAinât she, though? Well, then sheâs got an awfully good imitation of itâshe has, she has!â sniffed Nancy.
âYes, I know. It begun thenâat the time of the trouble with her lover,â nodded Old Tom; âand it seems as if sheâd been feedinâ on wormwood anâ thistles ever sinceâsheâs that bitter anâ prickly ter deal with.â
âI should say she was,â declared Nancy, indignantly. âThereâs no pleasinâ her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldnât stay if âtwaânât for the wages and the folks at home whatâs needinâ âem. But some dayâsome day I shall jest bâile over; and when I do, of course itâll be good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will.â
Old Tom shook his head.
âI know. Iâve felt it. Itâs nartâralâbut âtainât best, child; âtainât best. Take my word for it, âtainât best.â And again he bent his old head to the work before him.
âNancy!â called a sharp voice.
âY-yes, maâam,â stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
CHAPTER III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA
In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four oâclock. 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 bureauâwithout any mirrorâand a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out.
Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left the room.
âNancy,â she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, âI found a fly up-stairs in Miss Pollyannaâs room. The window must have been raised at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive to-morrow at four oâclock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says âlight hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.â That is all I know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.â
âYes, maâam; butâyouââ
Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said crisply:
âNo, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is all.â And she turned awayâMiss Pollyâs 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.
â âLight hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hatââall she knows, indeed! Well, Iâd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I wouldâand her my onliest niece what was a-cominâ from âway across the continent!â
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 Tomâs son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss Pollyâs right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. Short as had been Nancyâs stay at the house, the two were already good friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station and alighted to wait for the train.
Over and over in her mind she was saying it âlight hair, red-checked dress, straw hat.â Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
âI hope for her sake sheâs quiet and sensible, and donât drop knives nor bang doors,â she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
âWell, if she ainât, nobody knows whatâll become of the rest of us,â grinned Timothy. âImagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes the whistle now!â
âOh, Timothy, IâI think it was mean ter send me,â 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 herâthe 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.
âAre you MissâPollyanna?â she faltered. The next moment she found herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
âOh, Iâm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,â cried an eager voice in her ear. âOf course Iâm Pollyanna, and Iâm so glad you came to meet me! I hoped you would.â
âYouâyou did?â stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could possibly have known herâand wanted her. âYouâyou did? she repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
âOh, yes; and Iâve been wondering all the way here what you looked like,â cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. âAnd now I know, and Iâm glad you look just like you do look.â
Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyannaâs words had been most confusing.
âThis is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,â she stammered.
âYes, I have,â nodded Pollyanna, importantly. âIâve got a brand-new one. The Ladiesâ Aid bought it for meâand wasnât it lovely of them, when they wanted the carpet so? Of course I donât know how much red carpet a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhowâmuch as half an aisle, donât you think? Iâve 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. Grayâs husband. Theyâre cousins of Deacon Carrâs wife. I came East with them, and theyâre lovely! Andâthere, here âtis,â 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 oneâafter that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy. Timothyâs eyes were studiously turned away.
The three were off at last, with Pollyannaâs trunk in behind, and Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy. During the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.
âThere! Isnât this lovely? Is it far? I hope âtisâI love to ride,â sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. âOf course, if âtisnât far, I shaânât mind, though, âcause Iâll be glad to get there all the sooner, you know. What a pretty street! I knew âtwas going to be pretty; father told meââ
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.
âFather told me all about it. He remembered. Andâand I ought to have explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at onceâabout this red gingham dress, you know, and why Iâm not in black. She said youâd think âtwas queer. But there werenât any black things in the last missionary barrel, only a ladyâs velvet basque which Deacon Carrâs wife said wasnât suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spotsâworn, you knowâon both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladiesâ Aid wanted to buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go toward the red carpet theyâre trying to getâfor the church, you know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she didnât like children in blackâthat is, I mean, she liked the children, of course, but not the black part.â
Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
âWell, Iâm sure itâitâll be all right.â
âIâm glad you feel that way. I do, too,â nodded Pollyanna, again with that choking little breath. âOf course, âtwould have been a good deal harder to be glad in blackââ
âGlad!â gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
âYesâthat fatherâs gone to Heaven to be with mother and the rest of us, you know. He said I must be glad. But itâs been pretty
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