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
How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from end to endâ âit gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
âIâm so glad now that the screens didnât come,â she murmured, blinking up at the stars; âelse I couldnât have had this!â
Downstairs in Miss Pollyâs room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice to Timothy:
âCome up quick!â âyou and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the rose-trellis or somewhere, and of course he can get right into the house through the east window in the attic. I have locked the attic door down hereâ âbut hurry, quick!â
Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was startled by a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations. She opened her eyes to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting through the window, and her aunt peering out at her from behind him.
âPollyanna, what does this mean?â cried Aunt Polly then.
Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
âWhy, Mr. Tomâ âAunt Polly!â she stammered. âDonât look so scared! It isnât that Iâve got the consumption, you know, like Joel Hartley. Itâs only that I was so hotâ âin there. But I shut the window, Aunt Polly, so the flies couldnât carry those germ-things in.â
Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with almost equal precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son. Miss Polly bit her lip hardâ âuntil the men were gone; then she said sternly:
âPollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of all the extraordinary children!â she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.
To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only drew a long quivering sigh.
At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
âFor the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me. The screens will be here tomorrow, but until then I consider it my duty to keep you where I know where you are.â
Pollyanna drew in her breath.
âWith you?â âin your bed?â she cried rapturously. âOh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when Iâve so wanted to sleep with someone sometimeâ âsomeone that belonged to me, you know; not a Ladiesâ Aider. Iâve had them. My! I reckon I am glad now those screens didnât come! Wouldnât you be?â
There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly, to tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since Pollyannaâs arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyannaâ âand for the third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit. No wonder Miss Polly was feeling curiously helpless.
VIII Pollyanna Pays a VisitIt was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into something like orderâ âthough not exactly the order that Miss Polly had at first prescribed. Pollyanna sewed, practiced, read aloud, and studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these things quite so much time as had first been planned. She had more time, also, to âjust live,â as she expressed it, for almost all of every afternoon from two until six oâclock was hers to do with as she likedâ âprovided she did not âlikeâ to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.
It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to the child as a relief to Pollyanna from workâ âor as a relief to Aunt Polly from Pollyanna. Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate âWhat an extraordinary child!â and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.
Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better. She was not dazed nor exhausted. Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.
There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington homestead for Pollyanna to play with. The house itself was on the outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyannaâs age. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.
âOh, no, I donât mind it at all,â she explained to Nancy. âIâm happy just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the people. I just love people. Donât you, Nancy?â
âWell, I canât say I doâ âall of âem,â retorted Nancy, tersely.
Almost every pleasant afternoon found Pollyanna begging for âan errand to run,â so that she might be off for a walk in one direction or another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To herself Pollyanna always called him âthe Man,â no matter if she met a dozen other men the same day.
The Man often wore a long black coat and a high silk hatâ âtwo things
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