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
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 calfâs-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 wellâ âshe had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was not easy to be glad for anything now. But under Pollyannaâs cheery instructions and merry laughter at her mistakes, she was learning fast. Today, even, to Pollyannaâs huge delight, she had said that she was glad Pollyanna brought calfâs-foot jelly, because that was just what she had been wantingâ âshe did not know that Milly, at the front door, had told Pollyanna that the ministerâs 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.
âHullo,â smiled Pollyanna, engagingly.
The boy glanced up, but he looked away again, at once.
âHullo yourself,â he mumbled.
Pollyanna laughed.
âNow you donât look as if youâd be glad even for calfâs-foot jelly,â 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 Pollyannaâs brave assertion that she was âused to Ladiesâ Aiders,â and âdidnât mind,â she had sighed at times for some companion of her own age. Hence her determination to make the most of this one.
âMy nameâs Pollyanna Whittier,â she began pleasantly. âWhatâs yours?â
Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet. But he settled back.
âJimmy Bean,â he grunted with ungracious indifference.
âGood! Now weâre introduced. Iâm glad you did your partâ âsome folks donât, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harringtonâs house. Where do you live?â
âNowhere.â
âNowhere! Why, you canât do thatâ âeverybody lives somewhere,â asserted Pollyanna.
âWell, I donâtâ âjust now. Iâm huntinâ up a new place.â
âOh! Where is it?â
The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.
âSilly! As if Iâd be a-huntinâ for itâ âif I knew!â
Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and she did not like to be called âsilly.â Still, he was somebody besidesâ âold folks. âWhere did you liveâ âbefore?â she queried.
âWell, if you ainât the beatâem for askinâ questions!â sighed the boy impatiently.
âI have to be,â retorted Pollyanna calmly, âelse I couldnât find out a thing about you. If youâd talk more I wouldnât talk so much.â
The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not quite a willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when he spoke this time.
âAll right thenâ âhere goes! Iâm Jimmy Bean, and Iâm ten years old goinâ on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphansâ Home; but theyâve got so many kids there ainât much room for me, anâ I waânât never wanted, anyhow, I donât believe. So Iâve quit. Iâm goinâ ter live somewheres elseâ âbut I hainât found the place, yet. Iâd like a homeâ âjest a common one, ye know, with a mother in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; anâ I hainât had folks sinceâ âdad died. So Iâm a-huntinâ now. Iâve tried four houses, butâ âthey didnât want meâ âthough I said I expected ter work, âcourse. There! Is that all you want ter know?â The boyâs voice had broken a little over the last two sentences.
âWhy, what a shame!â sympathized Pollyanna. âAnd didnât there anybody want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because afterâ âafter my father died, too, there wasnât anybody but the Ladiesâ Aid for me, until Aunt Polly said sheâd takeâ ââ Pollyanna stopped abruptly. The dawning of a wonderful idea began to show in her face.
âOh, I know just the place for you,â she cried. âAunt Pollyâll take youâ âI know she will! Didnât she take me? And didnât she take Fluffy and Buffy, when they didnât have any one to love them, or any place to go?â âand theyâre only cats and dogs. Oh, come, I know Aunt Pollyâll take you! You donât know how good and kind she is!â
Jimmy Beanâs thin little face brightened.
âHonest Injun? Would she, now? Iâd work, ye know, anâ Iâm real strong!â He bared a small, bony arm.
âOf course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in the worldâ ânow that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And thereâs roomsâ âheaps of âem,â she continued, springing to her feet, and tugging at his arm. âItâs an awful big house. Maybe, though,â she added a little anxiously, as they hurried on, âmaybe youâll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at first. But thereâs screens there now, so âtwonât be so hot, and the flies canât get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet. Did you know about that? Itâs perfectly lovely! Maybe sheâll let you read the book if youâre goodâ âI mean, if youâre bad. And youâve got freckles, too,ââ âwith a critical glanceâ ââso youâll be glad there isnât any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is nicer than any wall-one could be, so you wonât mind sleeping in that room at all, Iâm sure,â panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly that she
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