Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
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âA little girlâ âto live with Miss Polly.â
âGo on with yer jokinâ,â scoffed unbelieving Tom. âWhy donât ye tell me the sun is a-goinâ ter set in the east ter-morrer?â
âBut itâs true. She told me so herself,â maintained Nancy. âItâs her niece; and sheâs eleven years old.â
The manâs jaw fell.
âSho!â âI wonder, now,â he muttered; then a tender light came into his faded eyes. âIt ainâtâ âbut it must beâ âMiss Jennieâs little gal! There wasnât none of the rest of âem married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss Jennieâs little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes a-seeinâ this!â
âWho was Miss Jennie?â
âShe was an angel straight out of Heaven,â breathed the man, fervently; âbut the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one whatâs a-cominâ.â
âSheâs eleven years old.â
âYes, she might be,â nodded the old man.
âAnd sheâs goinâ ter sleep in the atticâ âmore shame ter her!â scolded Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
âIâm a-wonderinâ what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house,â he said.
âHumph! Well, Iâm a-wonderinâ what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house!â snapped Nancy.
The old man laughed.
âIâm afraid you ainât fond of Miss Polly,â he grinned.
âAs if ever anybody could be fond of her!â scorned Nancy.
Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
âI guess maybe you didnât know about Miss Pollyâs love affair,â he said slowly.
âLove affairâ âher! No!â âand I guess nobody else didnât, neither.â
âOh, yes they did,â nodded the old man. âAnd the fellerâs livinâ ter-dayâ âright in this town, too.â
âWho is he?â
âI ainât a-tellinâ that. It ainât fit that I should.â The old man drew himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the loyal servantâs honest pride in the family he has served and loved for long years.
âBut it donât seem possibleâ âher and a lover,â still maintained Nancy.
Old Tom shook his head.
âYou didnât know Miss Polly as I did,â he argued. âShe used ter be real handsomeâ âand she would be now, if sheâd let herself be.â
âHandsome! Miss Polly!â
âYes. If sheâd just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with posies in âem, and the kind oâ dresses all lace and white thingsâ âyouâd see sheâd be handsome! Miss Polly ainât old, Nancy.â
âAinât she, though? Well, then sheâs got an awfully good imitation of itâ âshe has, she has!â sniffed Nancy.
âYes, I know. It begun thenâ âat the time of the trouble with her lover,â nodded Old Tom; âand it seems as if sheâd been feedinâ on wormwood anâ thistles ever sinceâ âsheâs that bitter anâ prickly ter deal with.â
âI should say she was,â declared Nancy, indignantly. âThereâs no pleasinâ her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldnât stay if âtwaânât for the wages and the folks at home whatâs needinâ âem. But some dayâ âsome day I shall jest bâile over; and when I do, of course itâll be goodbye Nancy for me. It will, it will.â
Old Tom shook his head.
âI know. Iâve felt it. Itâs nartâralâ âbut âtainât best, child; âtainât best. Take my word for it, âtainât best.â And again he bent his old head to the work before him.
âNancy!â called a sharp voice.
âY-yes, maâam,â stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
III The Coming of PollyannaIn due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four oâclock. Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureauâ âwithout any mirrorâ âand a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out.
Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left the room.
âNancy,â she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, âI found a fly upstairs in Miss Pollyannaâs room. The window must have been raised at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive tomorrow at four oâclock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says âlight hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.â That is all I know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.â
âYes, maâam; butâ âyouâ ââ
Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said crisply:
âNo, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is all.â And she turned awayâ âMiss Pollyâs arrangements for the comfort of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the dishtowel she was ironing.
âââLight hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hatââ âall she knows, indeed! Well, Iâd be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I wouldâ âand her my onliest niece what was a-cominâ from âway across the continent!â
Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old Tomâs son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was
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