Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
Book online «Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ». Author Eleanor H. Porter
Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here and there over the table, said sternly:
âNancy, where did those flies come from?â
âI donât know, maâam. There wasnât one in the kitchen.â Nancy had been too excited to notice Pollyannaâs up-flung windows the afternoon before.
âI reckon maybe theyâre my flies, Aunt Polly,â observed Pollyanna, amiably. âThere were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time upstairs.â
Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out the hot muffins she had just brought in.
âYours!â gasped Miss Polly. âWhat do you mean? Where did they come from?â
âWhy, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the windows. I saw some of them come in.â
âYou saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens?â
âWhy, yes. There werenât any screens there, Aunt Polly.â
Nancy, at this moment, came in again with the muffins. Her face was grave, but very red.
âNancy,â directed her mistress, sharply, âyou may set the muffins down and go at once to Miss Pollyannaâs room and shut the windows. Shut the doors, also. Later, when your morning work is done, go through every room with the spatter. See that you make a thorough search.â
To her niece she said:
âPollyanna, I have ordered screens for those windows. I knew, of course, that it was my duty to do that. But it seems to me that you have quite forgotten your duty.â
âMyâ âduty?â Pollyannaâs eyes were wide with wonder.
âCertainly. I know it is warm, but I consider it your duty to keep your windows closed till those screens come. Flies, Pollyanna, are not only unclean and annoying, but very dangerous to health. After breakfast I will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.â
âTo read? Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly. I love to read!â
Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly, then she shut her lips together hard. Pollyanna, seeing her stern face, frowned a little thoughtfully.
âOf course Iâm sorry about the duty I forgot, Aunt Polly,â she apologized timidly. âI wonât raise the windows again.â
Her aunt made no reply. She did not speak, indeed, until the meal was over. Then she rose, went to the bookcase in the sitting room, took out a small paper booklet, and crossed the room to her nieceâs side.
âThis is the article I spoke of, Pollyanna. I desire you to go to your room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour to look over your things.â
Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a flyâs head, many times magnified, cried joyously:
âOh, thank you, Aunt Polly!â The next moment she skipped merrily from the room, banging the door behind her.
Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically and opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight, clattering up the attic stairs.
Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern duty in every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyannaâs room, she was greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
âOh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and interesting in my life. Iâm so glad you gave me that book to read! Why, I didnât suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet, andâ ââ
âThat will do,â observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. âPollyanna, you may bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.â
With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned toward the closet.
âIâm afraid youâll think theyâre worse than the Ladiesâ Aid didâ âand they said they were shameful,â she sighed. âBut there were mostly things for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels; andâ âdid you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt Polly?â
At her auntâs look of shocked anger, Pollyanna corrected herself at once.
âWhy, no, of course you didnât, Aunt Polly!â she hurried on, with a hot blush. âI forgot; rich folks never have to have them. But you see sometimes I kind of forget that you are richâ âup here in this room, you know.â
Miss Pollyâs lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna, plainly unaware that she had said anything in the least unpleasant, was hurrying on.
âWell, as I was going to say, you canât tell a thing about missionary barrelsâ âexcept that you wonât find in âem what you think youâre going toâ âeven when you think you wonât. It was the barrels every time, too, that were hardest to play the game on, for father andâ ââ
Just in time Pollyanna remembered that she was not to talk of her father to her aunt. She dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
âThey arenât nice, at all,â she choked, âand theyâd been black if it hadnât been for the red carpet for the church; but theyâre all Iâve got.â
With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the conglomerate garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna. Next she bestowed frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
âIâve got the best ones on,â confessed Pollyanna, anxiously. âThe Ladiesâ Aid bought me one set straight through all whole. Mrs. Jonesâ âsheâs the presidentâ âtold âem I should have that if they had to clatter down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days. But they wonât. Mr. White doesnât like the noise. Heâs got nerves, his wife says; but heâs got money, too, and they expect heâll give a lot toward the carpetâ âon account of the nerves, you know. I should think heâd be glad that if he did have the nerves heâd got money, too; shouldnât you?â
Miss Polly did not seem to
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