Why, of course I can move-anywhere-in bed, she rejoined a little irritably.
Well, you can be glad of that, then, anyhow, cant you? nodded Pollyanna. Mrs. White couldnt. You cant thrash when you have rheumatic fever-though you want to something awful, Mrs. White says. She told me afterwards she reckoned shed have gone raving crazy if it hadnt been for Mr. Whites sisters ears-being deaf, so.
Sisters-EARS! What do you mean?
Pollyanna laughed.
Well, I reckon I didnt tell it all, and I forgot you didnt 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 didnt mind so much that she DID hear it, cause she couldnt help thinking how awful twould be if she was deaf and couldnt hear anything, like her husbands sister. You see, she was playing the game, too. Id told her about it.
The-game?
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
There! I most forgot; but Ive thought it up, Mrs. Snow-what you can be glad about.
GLAD about! What do you mean?
Why, I told you I would. Dont you remember? You asked me to tell you something to be glad about-glad, you know, even though you did have to lie here abed all day.
Oh! scoffed the woman. THAT? Yes, I remember that; but I didnt suppose you were in earnest any more than I was.
Oh, yes, I was, nodded Pollyanna, triumphantly; and I found it, too. But TWAS hard. Its all the more fun, though, always, when tis hard. And I will own up, honest to true, that I couldnt think of anything for a while. Then I got it.
Did you, really? Well, what is it? Mrs. Snows voice was sarcastically polite.
Pollyanna drew a long breath.
I thought-how glad you could be-that other folks werent 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 Ill tell you the game, proposed Pollyanna, blithely confident. Itll be just lovely for you to play-itll be so hard. And theres so much more fun when it is hard! You see, its like this. And she began to tell of the missionary barrel, the crutches, and the doll that did not come.
The story was just finished when Milly appeared at the door.
Your aunt is wanting you, Miss Pollyanna, she said with dreary listlessness. She telephoned down to the Harlows across the way. She says youre to hurry-that youve got some practising to make up before dark.
Pollyanna rose reluctantly.
All right, she sighed. Ill hurry. Suddenly she laughed. I suppose I ought to be glad Ive got legs to hurry with, hadnt I, Mrs. Snow?
There was no answer. Mrs. Snows 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. Im 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, how very happy they were. Whereupon her aunt would usually reply, wearily:
Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are happy; but I trust that they are profitable, as well-otherwise I should have failed signally in my duty.
Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a 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 wouldnt be enough then, 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-its just being profitable-having profit, something to show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!
Then just being glad isnt pro-fi-ta-ble? questioned Pollyanna, a little anxiously.
Certainly not.
O dear! Then you wouldnt like it, of course. Im afraid, now, you wont 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 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 Pollyannas 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 unexpected, 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 Ive had this room, all mine, you know. Oh, of course, I had a room, always, but twas a hired room, and hired rooms arent half as nice as owned ones, are they? And of course I do own this one, dont I?
Why, y-yes, Pollyanna, murmured Miss Polly, vaguely wondering why she did not get up at once and go to look for that shawl.
And of course NOW I just love this room, even if it hasnt got the carpets and curtains and pictures that Id been want- With a painful blush Pollyanna stopped short. She was plunging into an entirely different sentence when her aunt interrupted her sharply.
Whats that, Pollyanna?
N-nothing, Aunt Polly, truly. I didnt 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 wasnt anything only that Id 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 Id always wanted them and hadnt had them, I suppose. Oh, wed 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 hadnt been for all that I shouldnt have wanted them, so-pretty things, I mean; and I shouldnt have got to planning all through the hall that first day how pretty mine would be here, and-and-but, truly, Aunt Polly, it wasnt but just a minute-I mean, a few minutes-before I was being glad that the bureau DIDNT have a looking-glass, because it didnt show my freckles; and there couldnt be a nicer picture than the one out my window there; and youve 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, Im 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 Pollyannas things downstairs this morning to the room directly beneath. I have decided to have my niece sleep there for the present.
Yes, maam, said Nancy aloud.
O glory! said Nancy to herself.
To Pollyanna, a minute later, she cried joyously:
And wont ye jest be listenin ter this, Miss Pollyanna. Youre ter sleep downstairs 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 youll think its really and truly, prophesied Nancy, exultingly, nodding her head to Pollyanna over the armful of dresses she had taken from the closet. Im told ter take down yer things, and Im 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 downstairs, two steps at a time.
Bang went two doors and a chair before Pollyanna at last reached her goal-Aunt Polly.
Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, did you mean it, really? Why, that rooms got EVERYTHING-the carpet 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 care of them; thats 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.
Yesm; I know I banged em-those doors, she admitted cheerfully. You see Id just found out about the room, and I reckon youd 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 Pollys voice was properly shocked.
Why, Aunt Polly, what a shame! Pollyannas face expressed only concerned sympathy.
A shame! repeated Aunt Polly, too dazed to say more.
Why, yes. You see, if youd felt like banging doors youd have banged em, of course; and if you didnt, that must have meant that you werent ever glad over anything-or you would have banged em. You couldnt have helped it. And Im so sorry you werent ever glad over anything!
PollyANna! gasped the lady; but Pollyanna was gone, and only the distant bang of the attic-pstairway door answered for her. Pollyanna had gone to help Nancy bring down her things.
Miss Polly, in the sitting room, felt vaguely disturbed;-but then, of course she HAD been glad-over some things!
Chapter XI
Introducing Jimmy
August came. August brought several surprises and some changes-none of which, however, were really a surprise to Nancy. Nancy, since Pollyannas 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 questioning of the neighbors failed to find anyone who claimed it, Pollyanna brought it home at once, as a matter of course.
And I was glad I didnt find any one who owned it, too, she told her aunt in happy confidence; cause I wanted to bring it home all the time. I love kitties. I knew youd be glad to let it live here.
Miss Polly looked at the forlorn little gray bunch of neglected misery in Pollyannas arms, and shivered: Miss Polly did not care for cats-not even pretty, healthy, clean ones.
Ugh! Pollyanna! What a dirty little beast! And its sick, Im sure, and all mangy and fleay.
I know it, poor little thing, crooned Pollyanna, tenderly, looking into the little creatures frightened eyes. And its all trembly, too, its so scared. You see it doesnt know, yet, that were going to keep it, of course.
No-nor anybody else, retorted Miss Polly, with meaning emphasis.
Oh, yes, they do, nodded Pollyanna, entirely misunderstanding her aunts words. I told everybody we should keep it, if I didnt find where it belonged. I knew youd 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 Pollyannas arrival, had her now fast in its grip.
Of course I knew, hurried on Pollyanna, gratefully, that you wouldnt let a dear little lonesome kitty go hunting for a home when youd just taken ME in; and I said so to Mrs. Ford when she asked if youd let me keep it. Why, I had the Ladies Aid, you know, and kitty didnt have anybody. I knew youd feel that way, she nodded happily, as she ran from the room.
But, Pollyanna, Pollyanna, remonstrated Miss Polly. I dont- But Pollyanna was already 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 more 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. 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 Pollyannas cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast. Today, even, to Pollyannas huge delight, she had said that she was glad Pollyanna brought calfs-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 ministers 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.
Hullo, smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
Hullo yourself, he mumbled.
Pollyanna laughed.
Now you dont look as if youd be glad even for calfs-foot jelly, 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 Pollyannas brave assertion that she was used to Ladies Aiders, and didnt mind, she had sighed at times for some companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this one.
My names Pollyanna Whittier, she began pleasantly. Whats yours?
Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he settled back.
Jimmy Bean, he grunted with ungracious indifference.
Good! Now were introduced. Im glad you did your part-some folks dont, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harringtons house. Where do you live?
Nowhere.
Nowhere! Why, you cant do that-everybody lives somewhere, asserted Pollyanna.
Well, I dont-just now. Im huntin up a new place.
Oh! Where is it?
The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.