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"I--I don't know," answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
"I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the
barrels much, you know. There did two come once, though. But one
was so good father sold it to get money to buy me some shoes
with; and the other was so bad it fell to pieces just as soon as
we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you know. And I cried. But I'm
glad now we didn't have any of those nice things, 'cause I shall
like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used to 'em, you see.
Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in the barrels
after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
perfectly beautiful house?" she broke off fervently, as they
turned into the wide driveway.
It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
"Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy
Durgin. You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!"
"Leave! I should say not," grinned the youth.
"You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that
kid 'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!"
"Fun!--fun!" repeated Nancy, indignantly, "I guess it'll be
somethin' more than fun for that blessed child--when them two
tries ter live tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some
rock ter fly to for refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock,
Timothy; I am, I am!" she vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna
up the broad steps.
CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked
up from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl
appeared in the sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand
with "duty" written large on every coldly extended finger.
"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself
into her aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough
that you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You
don't know how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and
all this after you've had just the Ladies' Aid!"
"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies'
Aid's acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to
unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on
Nancy in the doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go.
Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper
manner. I don't know yet what you look like."
Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to took
at, anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to
explain about the red gingham and the black velvet basque with
white spots on the elbows. I told Nancy how father said--"
"Yes; well, never mind now what your father said," interrupted
Miss Polly, crisply. "You had a trunk, I presume?"
"Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own,
I mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in
them lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White
said she thought I ought to have those. You see, father--"
"Pollyanna," interrupted her aunt again, sharply, "there is one
thing that might just as well be understood right away at once;
and that is, I do not care to have you keep talking of your
father to me."
The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
"Why, Aunt Polly, you--you mean--" She hesitated, and her aunt
filled the pause.
"We will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there,
I presume. I told Timothy to take it up--if you had one. You may
follow me, Pollyanna."
Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the
room. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely
high.
"After all, I--I reckon I'm glad she doesn't want me to talk
about father," Pollyanna was thinking. "It'll be easier,
maybe--if I don't talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why
she told me not to talk about him." And Pollyanna, convinced anew
of her aunt's "kindness," blinked off the tears and looked
eagerly about her.
She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk
skirt rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a
glimpse of soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her
feet a marvellous carpet was like green moss to the tread. On
every side the gilt of picture frames or the glint of sunlight
through the filmy mesh of lace curtains flashed in her eyes.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly," breathed the little girl,
rapturously; "what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully
glad you must be you're so rich!"
"PollyANNA!" ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she
reached the head of the stairs. "I'm surprised at you--making a
speech like that to me!"
"Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?" queried Pollyanna, in frank
wonder.
"Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget
myself as to be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit
to bestow upon me," declared the lady; "certainly not, of
RICHES!"
Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic
stairway door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in
the attic room. Her idea at first had been to get her niece as
far away as possible from herself, and at the same time place her
where her childish heedlessness would not destroy valuable
furnishings. Now--with this evident strain of vanity showing thus
early--it was all the more fortunate that the room planned for
her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
Eagerly Pollyanna's small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still
more eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at
once, that no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house
might be passed unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to
the wondrously exciting problem about to be solved: behind which
of all these fascinating doors was waiting now her room--the
dear, beautiful room full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that
was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt opened a door
and ascended another stairway.
There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either
side. At the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led
to far corners where the roof came almost down to the floor, and
where were stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and
stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higher--it
seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown
open a door at the right.
"There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I
see. Have you your key?"
Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and
frightened.
Her aunt frowned.
"When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should
answer aloud not merely with your head."
"Yes, Aunt Polly."
"Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that
you need here," she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack
and water pitcher. "I will send Nancy up to help you unpack.
Supper is at six o'clock," she finished, as she left the room and
swept down-stairs.
For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still,
looking after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare
wall, the bare floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to
the little trunk that had stood not so long before in her own
little room in the far-away Western home. The next moment she
stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its side,
covering her face with her hands.
Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
"There, there, you poor lamb," she crooned, dropping to the floor
and drawing the little girl into her arms. "I was just a-fearin!
I'd find you like this, like this."
Pollyanna shook her head.
"But I'm bad and wicked, Nancy--awful wicked," she sobbed. "I
just can't make myself understand that God and the angels needed
my father more than I did."
"No more they did, neither," declared Nancy, stoutly.
"Oh-h!--NANCY!" The burning horror in Pollyanna's eyes dried the
tears.
Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
"There, there, child, I didn't mean it, of course," she cried
briskly. "Come, let's have your key and we'll get inside this
trunk and take our your dresses in no time, no time."
Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
"There aren't very many there, anyway," she faltered.
"Then they're all the sooner unpacked," declared Nancy.
Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
"That's so! I can be glad of that, can't I?" she cried.
Nancy stared.
"Why, of--course," she answered a little uncertainly.
Nancy's capable hands made short work of unpacking the books, the
patched undergarments, and the few pitifully unattractive
dresses. Pollyanna, smiling bravely now, flew about, hanging the
dresses in the closet, stacking the books on the table, and
putting away the undergarments in the bureau drawers.
"I'm sure it--it's going to be a very nice room. Don't you think
so?" she stammered, after a while.
There was no answer. Nancy was very busy, apparently, with her
head in the trunk. Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a
little wistfully at the bare wall above.
"And I can be glad there isn't any looking-glass here, too,
'cause where there ISN'T any glass I can't see my freckles."
Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth--but when
Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the
windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and
clapped her hands joyously.
"Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before," she breathed. "Look--'way
off there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church
spire, and the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there
doesn't anybody need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm
so glad now she let me have this room!"
To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears.
Pollyanna hurriedly crossed to her side.
"Why, Nancy, Nancy--what is it?" she cried; then, fearfully:
"This wasn't--YOUR room, was it?"
"My room!" stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. "If you
ain't a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks
don't eat dirt before--Oh, land! there's her bell!" After which
amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room,
and went clattering down the stairs.
Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her "picture," as she mentally
designated the beautiful view from the window. After a time she
touched the sash tentatively. It seemed as if no longer could she
endure the stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her
fingers. The next moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna
was leaning far out, drinking in the fresh, sweet air.
She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under
her eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed
noisily about the room. Then another came, and another; but
Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had made a wonderful
discovery--against this window a huge tree flung great branches.
To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting her.
Suddenly she laughed aloud.
"I believe I can do it," she chuckled. The next moment she had
climbed nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy
matter to step to the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a
monkey, she swung herself from limb to limb until the lowest
branch was reached. The drop to the ground was--even for
Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees--a little fearsome. She
took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her strong
little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she
picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.
She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in
which a bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path
through an open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a
lone pine tree stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna,
at the moment, there seemed to be just one place in the world
worth being in--the top of that big rock.
With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old
man, threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing
things, and--a little out of breath--reached the path that ran
through the open field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb.
Already, however, she was thinking what a long, long way off that
rock must be, when back at the window it had looked so near!
Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the
Harrington homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke
Nancy sounded the bell for supper.
One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the
floor with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet,
went into the hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For
a minute she listened intently; then she turned and swept into
the dining room.
"Nancy," she said with decision, as soon as the little
serving-maid appeared; "my niece is late. No, you need not call
her," she added severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall
door. "I told her what time supper was, and now she will have to
suffer the consequences. She may as well begin at once to learn
to be punctual. When she comes down she may have bread and milk
in the kitchen."
"Yes, ma'am." It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not
happen to be looking at Nancy's face just then.
At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the
back stairs and thence to the attic room.
"Bread and milk, indeed!--and when the poor lamb hain't only just
cried herself to sleep," she was muttering fiercely, as she
softly pushed open the door. The next moment she gave a
frightened cry. "Where are you? Where've you gone? Where HAVE you
gone?" she panted, looking in the closet, under the bed, and even
in the trunk and down the water pitcher. Then she flew
down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.
"Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone," she wailed. "She's
vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and
me told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's
eatin' angel food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!"
The old man straightened up.
"Gone? Heaven?" he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the
brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment
intently, then turned with a slow grin. "Well, Nancy, it do look
like as if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and
that's a fact," he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to
where, sharply outlined against the reddening sky, a slender,
wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge rock.
"Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I
has my say," declared Nancy, doggedly. "If the mistress asks,
tell her I ain't furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,"
she flung back over her shoulder, as she sped toward the path
that led through the open field.
CHAPTER V. THE GAME
"For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give
me," panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which
Pollyanna had just regretfully slid.
"Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get
scared about me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it,
too, till they found I always came back all right."
"But I didn't even know you'd went," cried Nancy, tucking the
little girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill.
"I didn't see you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right
up through the roof; I do, I do."
Pollyanna skipped gleefully.
"I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the
tree."
Nancy stopped short.
"You did--what?"
"Came down the tree, outside my window."
"My stars and stockings!" gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. "I'd
like ter know what yer aunt would say ter that!"
"Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,"
promised the little girl, cheerfully.
"Mercy!" gasped Nancy. "No--no!"
"Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!" cried Pollyanna, plainly
disturbed.
"No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular
about knowin' what she'd say, truly," stammered Nancy, determined
to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. "But, say,
we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know."
"I'll help," promised Pollyanna, promptly.
"Oh, Miss Pollyanna!" demurred Nancy.
For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast.
Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend's arm.
"I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little,
'cause then you came after me," she shivered.
"Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid
you'll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer
aunt didn't like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye
know."
"But I couldn't. I was up here."
"Yes; but--she didn't know that, you see!" observed Nancy, dryly,
stifling a chuckle. "I'm sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I
am."
"Oh, I'm not. I'm glad."
"Glad! Why?"
"Why, I like bread and milk, and I'd like to eat with you. I
don't see any trouble about being glad about that."
"You don't seem ter see any trouble bein' glad about everythin',"
retorted Nancy, choking a little over her remembrance of
Pollyanna's brave attempts to like the bare little attic room.
Pollyanna laughed softly.
"Well, that's the game, you know, anyway."
"The--GAME?"
"Yes; the 'just being glad' game."
"Whatever in the world are you talkin' about?"
"Why, it's a game. Father told it to me, and it's lovely,"
rejoined Pollyanna. "We've played it always, ever since I was a
little, little girl. I told the Ladies' Aid, and they played
it--some of them."
"What is it? I ain't much on games, though."
Pollyanna laughed again, but she sighed, too; and in the
gathering twilight her face looked thin and wistful.
"Why, we began it on some crutches that came in a missionary
barrel."
"CRUTCHES!"
"Yes. You see I'd wanted a doll, and father had written them so;
but when the barrel came the lady wrote that there hadn't any
dolls come in, but the little crutches had. So she sent 'em along
as they might come in handy for some child, sometime. And that's
when we began it."
"Well, I must say I can't see any game about that, about that,"
declared Nancy, almost irritably.
"Oh, yes; the game was to just find something about everything to
be glad about--no matter what 'twas," rejoined Pollyanna,
earnestly. "And we began right then--on the crutches."
"Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad
about--gettin' a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!"
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
"There is--there is," she crowed. "But _I_ couldn't see it,
either, Nancy, at first," she added, with quick honesty. "Father
had to tell it to me."
"Well, then, suppose YOU tell ME," almost snapped Nancy.
"Goosey! Why, just be glad because you don't--NEED--'EM!" exulted
Pollyanna, triumphantly. "You see it's just as easy--when you
know how!"
"Well, of all the queer doin's!" breathed Nancy, regarding
Pollyanna with almost fearful eyes.
"Oh, but it isn't queer--it's lovely," maintained Pollyanna
enthusiastically. "And we've played it ever since. And the harder
'tis, the more fun 'tis to get 'em out; only--only sometimes it's
almost too hard--like when your father goes to Heaven, and there
isn't anybody but a Ladies' Aid left."
"Yes, or when you're put in a snippy little room 'way at the top
of the house with nothin' in it," growled Nancy.
Pollyanna sighed.
"That was a hard one, at first," she admitted, "specially when I
was so kind of lonesome. I just didn't feel like playing the
game, anyway, and I HAD been wanting pretty things, so! Then I
happened to think how I hated to see my freckles in the
looking-glass, and I saw that lovely picture out the window, too;
so then I knew I'd found the things to be glad about. You see,
when you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the
other kind--like the doll you wanted, you know."
"Humph!" choked Nancy, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
"Most generally it doesn't take so long," sighed Pollyanna; "and
lots of times now I just think of them WITHOUT thinking, you
know. I've got so used to playing it. It's a lovely game.
F-father and I used to like it so much," she faltered. "I
suppose, though, it--it'll be a little harder now, as long as I
haven't anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it,
though," she added, as an after-thought.
"My stars and stockings!--HER!" breathed Nancy, behind her teeth.
Then, aloud, she said doggedly: "See here, Miss Pollyanna, I
ain't sayin' that I'll play it very well, and I ain't sayin' that
I know how, anyway; but I'll play it with ye, after a fashion--I
just will, I will!"
"Oh, Nancy!" exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug.
"That'll be splendid! Won't we have fun?"
"Er--maybe," conceded Nancy, in open doubt. "But you mustn't
count too much on me, ye know. I never was no case fur games, but
I'm a-goin' ter make a most awful old try on this one. You're
goin' ter have some one ter play it with, anyhow," she finished,
as they entered the kitchen together.
Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at
Nancy's suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her
aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly.
"Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?"
"Yes, Aunt Polly."
"I'm very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send
you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk."
"But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and
milk, and Nancy, too. You mustn't feel bad about that one bit."
Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
"Pollyanna, it's quite time you were in bed. You have had a hard
day, and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your
clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will
give you a candle. Be careful how you handle it. Breakfast will
be at half-past seven. See that you are down to that.
Good-night."
Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her
aunt's side and gave her an affectionate hug.
"I've had such a beautiful time, so far," she sighed happily. "I
know I'm going to just love living with you but then, I knew I
should before I came. Good-night," she called cheerfully, as she
ran from the room.
"Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud. "What a
most extraordinary child!" Then she frowned. "She's 'glad' I
punished her, and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going
to 'love to live' with me! Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss
Polly again, as she took up her book.
Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl
sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet:
"I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one
bit now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find
anything to be glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in
the dark--like this. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or
even a Ladies' Aider, it would be easier!"
Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated
work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered
Jerkily:
"If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got
crutches when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein'
that rock o' refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!"
CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
It was nearly seven o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day
after her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so
she could not see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of
the morning sky, and she knew that the day promised to be a fair
one.
The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and
sweet. Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna
flew to the window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the
garden her aunt was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid
fingers, therefore, she made herself ready to join her.
Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide
open. Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through
the front screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush
when Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just
to be alive!"
"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as
erect as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds
hanging about her neck. "Is this the usual way you say good
morning?"
The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and
down.
"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you
from my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T
a Ladies' Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you
looked so good I just had to come down and hug you!"
The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
frown--with not her usual success.
"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think
you understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then
she turned and walked rapidly away.
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