Im Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. Im so glad you stopped. Now were introducedonly I dont know your name yet.
Well, of all the The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on faster than ever.
Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually smiling lips.
Maybe he didnt understandbut that was only half an introduction. I dont know his name, yet, she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
Pollyanna was carrying calfs-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow today. Miss Polly Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she thought that it was her duty, inasmuch as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a member of her churchit was the duty of all the church members to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually on Thursday afternoonsnot personally, but through Nancy. Today Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her in accordance with Miss Pollys orders.
And its glad that I am ter get rid of it, Nancy had declared in private afterwards to Pollyanna; though its a shame ter be tuckin the job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!
But Id love to do it, Nancy.
Well, you wontafter youve done it once, predicted Nancy, sourly.
Because nobody does. If folks want sorry for her there wouldnt a soul go near her from mornin till night, shes that cantankerous. All is, I pity her daughter what has ter take care of her.
But, why, Nancy?
Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
Well, in plain words, its just that nothin what ever has happened, has happened right in Mis Snows eyes. Even the days of the week aint run ter her mind. If its Monday shes bound ter say she wished twas Sunday; and if you take her jelly youre pretty sure ter hear she wanted chickenbut if you did bring her chicken, shed be jest hankerin for lamb broth!
Why, what a funny woman, laughed Pollyanna. I think I shall like to go to see her. She must be so surprising andand different. I love different folks.
Humph! Well, Mis Snows different, all rightI hope, for the sake of the rest of us! Nancy had finished grimly.
Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks today as she turned in at the gate of the shabby little cottage. Her eyes were quite sparkling, indeed, at the prospect of meeting this different Mrs. Snow.
A pale-faced, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
How do you do? began Pollyanna politely. Im from Miss Polly Harrington, and Id like to see Mrs. Snow, please.
Well, if you would, youre the first one that ever liked to see her, muttered the girl under her breath; but Pollyanna did not hear this. The girl had turned and was leading the way through the hall to a door at the end of it.
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