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 afterthought.
“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 tomorrow 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. Goodnight,” 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!”
Downstairs 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 rosebush 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
