Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
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âGladâ âfor Monday mornings!â
Nancy laughed.
âI know it does sound nutty, maâam. But let me tell ye. That blessed lamb found out I hated Monday morninâs somethinâ awful; anâ what does she up anâ tell me one day but this: âWell, anyhow, Nancy, I should think you could be gladder on Monday morninâ than on any other day in the week, because âtwould be a whole week before youâd have another one!â Anâ Iâm blest if I hainât thought of it evâry Monday morninâ sinceâ âanâ it has helped, maâam. It made me laugh, anyhow, evâry time I thought of it; anâ laughinâ helps, ye knowâ âit does, it does!â
âBut why hasnâtâ âshe told meâ âthe game?â faltered Miss Polly. âWhy has she made such a mystery of it, when I asked her?â
Nancy hesitated.
âBegginâ yer pardon, maâam, you told her not ter speak ofâ âher father; so she couldnât tell ye. âTwas her fatherâs game, ye see.â
Miss Polly bit her lip.
âShe wanted ter tell ye, first off,â continued Nancy, a little unsteadily. âShe wanted somebody ter play it with, ye know. Thatâs why I begun it, so she could have someone.â
âAndâ âandâ âthese others?â Miss Pollyâs voice shook now.
âOh, evârybody, âmost, knows it now, I guess. Anyhow, I should think they did from the way Iâm hearinâ of it evârywhere I go. Of course she told a lot, and they told the rest. Them things go, ye know, when they gets started. Anâ she was always so smilinâ anâ pleasant ter evâry one, anâ soâ âso jest glad herself all the time, that they couldnât help knowinâ it, anyhow. Now, since sheâs hurt, evârybody feels so badâ âspecially when they heard how bad she feels âcause she canât find anythinâ ter be glad about. Anâ so theyâve been cominâ evâry day ter tell her how glad sheâs made them, hopinâ thatâll help some. Ye see, sheâs always wanted evârybody ter play the game with her.â
âWell, I know somebody whoâll play itâ ânow,â choked Miss Polly, as she turned and sped through the kitchen doorway.
Behind her, Nancy stood staring amazedly.
âWell, Iâll believe anythinââ âanythinâ now,â she muttered to herself. âYe canât stump me with anythinâ I wouldnât believe, nowâ âoâ Miss Polly!â
A little later, in Pollyannaâs room, the nurse left Miss Polly and Pollyanna alone together.
âAnd youâve had still another caller today, my dear,â announced Miss Polly, in a voice she vainly tried to steady. âDo you remember Mrs. Payson?â
âMrs. Payson? Why, I reckon I do! She lives on the way to Mr. Pendletonâs, and sheâs got the prettiest little girl baby three years old, and a boy âmost five. Sheâs awfully nice, and soâs her husbandâ âonly they donât seem to know how nice each other is. Sometimes they fightâ âI mean, they donât quite agree. Theyâre poor, too, they say, and of course they donât ever have barrels, âcause he isnât a missionary minister, you know, likeâ âwell, he isnât.â
A faint color stole into Pollyannaâs cheeks which was duplicated suddenly in those of her aunt.
âBut she wears real pretty clothes, sometimes, in spite of their being so poor,â resumed Pollyanna, in some haste. âAnd sheâs got perfectly beautiful rings with diamonds and rubies and emeralds in them; but she says sheâs got one ring too many, and that sheâs going to throw it away and get a divorce instead. What is a divorce, Aunt Polly? Iâm afraid it isnât very nice, because she didnât look happy when she talked about it. And she said if she did get it, they wouldnât live there any more, and that Mr. Payson would go âway off, and maybe the children, too. But I should think theyâd rather keep the ring, even if they did have so many more. Shouldnât you? Aunt Polly, what is a divorce?â
âBut they arenât going âway off, dear,â evaded Aunt Polly, hurriedly. âTheyâre going to stay right there together.â
âOh, Iâm so glad! Then theyâll be there when I go up to seeâ âO dear!â broke off the little girl, miserably. âAunt Polly, why canât I remember that my legs donât go any more, and that I wonât ever, ever go up to see Mr. Pendleton again?â
âThere, there, donât,â choked her aunt. âPerhaps youâll drive up sometime. But listen! I havenât told you, yet, all that Mrs. Payson said. She wanted me to tell you that theyâ âthey were going to stay together and to play the game, just as you wanted them to.â
Pollyanna smiled through tear-wet eyes.
âDid they? Did they, really? Oh, I am glad of that!â
âYes, she said she hoped youâd be. Thatâs why she told you, to make youâ âglad, Pollyanna.â
Pollyanna looked up quickly.
âWhy, Aunt Polly, youâ âyou spoke just as if you knewâ âDo you know about the game, Aunt Polly?â
âYes, dear.â Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be cheerfully matter-of-fact. âNancy told me. I think itâs a beautiful game. Iâm going to play it nowâ âwith you.â
âOh, Aunt Pollyâ âyou? Iâm so glad! You see, Iâve really wanted you most of anybody, all the time.â
Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder this time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
âYes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna, I think all the town is playing that game now with youâ âeven to the minister! I havenât had a chance to tell you, yet, but this morning I met Mr. Ford when I was down to the village, and he told me to say to you that just as soon as you could see him, he was coming to tell you that he hadnât stopped being glad over those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told him about. So you see, dear, itâs just you that have done it. The whole town is playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happierâ âand all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game, and how to play it.â
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
âOh, Iâm
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