Pollyanna Grows Up Eleanor H. Porter (booksvooks .TXT) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
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Pollyanna nodded, all sympathy and interest. It was not often that Jimmy said much of that mysterious past life of his, before she had known him.
âAnd what happened next?â she prompted. Pollyanna had, for the moment, forgotten all about the original subject of the controversyâ âthe name âJamieâ that was dubbed âsissy.â
The boy sighed.
âWe just went on till we found another place. And âtwas there dadâ âdied. Then they put me in the âsylum.â
âAnd then you ran away and I found you that day, down by Mrs. Snowâs,â exulted Pollyanna, softly. âAnd Iâve known you ever since.â
âOh, yesâ âand youâve known me ever since,â repeated Jimmyâ âbut in a far different voice: Jimmy had suddenly come back to the present, and to his grievance. âBut, then, I ainât âJamie,â you know,â he finished with scornful emphasis, as he turned loftily away, leaving a distressed, bewildered Pollyanna behind him.
âWell, anyway, I can be glad he doesnât always act like this,â sighed the little girl, as she mournfully watched the sturdy, boyish figure with its disagreeable, amazing swagger.
XV Aunt Polly Takes AlarmPollyanna had been at home about a week when the letter from Della Wetherby came to Mrs. Chilton.
âI wish I could make you see what your little niece has done for my sister,â wrote Miss Wetherby; âbut Iâm afraid I canât. You would have to know what she was before. You did see her, to be sure, and perhaps you saw something of the hush and gloom in which she has shrouded herself for so many years. But you can have no conception of her bitterness of heart, her lack of aim and interest, her insistence upon eternal mourning.
âThen came Pollyanna. Probably I didnât tell you, but my sister regretted her promise to take the child, almost the minute it was given; and she made the stern stipulation that the moment Pollyanna began to preach, back she should come to me. Well, she hasnât preachedâ âat least, my sister says she hasnât; and my sister ought to know. And yetâ âwell, just let me tell you what I found when I went to see her yesterday. Perhaps nothing else could give you a better idea of what that wonderful little Pollyanna of yours has accomplished.
âTo begin with, as I approached the house, I saw that nearly all the shades were up: they used to be downâ ââway down to the sill. The minute I stepped into the hall I heard musicâ âParsifal. The drawing-rooms were open, and the air was sweet with roses.
âââMrs. Carew and Master Jamie are in the music-room,â said the maid. And there I found themâ âmy sister, and the youth she has taken into her home, listening to one of those modern contrivances that can hold an entire opera company, including the orchestra.
âThe boy was in a wheel chair. He was pale, but plainly beatifically happy. My sister looked ten years younger. Her usually colorless cheeks showed a faint pink, and her eyes glowed and sparkled. A little later, after I had talked a few minutes with the boy, my sister and I went upstairs to her own rooms; and there she talked to meâ âof Jamie. Not of the old Jamie, as she used to, with tear-wet eyes and hopeless sighs, but of the new Jamieâ âand there were no sighs nor tears now. There was, instead, the eagerness of enthusiastic interest.
âââDella, heâs wonderful,â she began. âEverything that is best in music, art, and literature seems to appeal to him in a perfectly marvelous fashion, only, of course, he needs development and training. Thatâs what Iâm going to see that he gets. A tutor is coming tomorrow. Of course his language is something awful; at the same time, he has read so many good books that his vocabulary is quite amazingâ âand you should hear the stories he can reel off! Of course in general education he is very deficient; but heâs eager to learn, so that will soon be remedied. He loves music, and I shall give him what training in that he wishes. I have already put in a stock of carefully selected records. I wish you could have seen his face when he first heard that Holy Grail music. He knows all about King Arthur and his Round Table, and he prattles of knights and lords and ladies as you and I do of the members of our own familyâ âonly sometimes I donât know whether his Sir Lancelot means the ancient knight or a squirrel in the Public Garden. And, Della, I believe he can be made to walk. Iâm going to have Dr. Ames see him, anyway, andâ ââ
âAnd so on and on she talked, while I sat amazed and tongue-tied, but, oh, so happy! I tell you all this, dear Mrs. Chilton, so you can see for yourself how interested she is, how eagerly she is going to watch this boyâs growth and development, and how, in spite of herself, it is all going to change her attitude toward life. She canât do what she is doing for this boy, Jamie, and not do for herself at the same time. Never again, I believe, will she be the soured,
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