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not know what she was talking about. Oh, how I wish I had a lot of those things! How I would like to give them to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Snow andlots of folks. I reckon then theyd be glad all right! Why, I think even Aunt Pollyd get so glad she couldnt help banging doors if she lived in a rainbow like that. Dont you? Mr. Pendleton laughed. Well, from my remembrance of your aunt, Miss Pollyanna, I must say I think it would take something more than a few prisms in the sunlight toto make her bang many doorsfor gladness. But come, now, really, what do you mean? Pollyanna stared slightly; then she drew a long breath. Oh, I forgot. You dont know about the game. I remember now. Suppose you tell me, then. And this time Pollyanna told him. She told him the whole thing from the very firstfrom the crutches that should have been a doll. As she talked, she did not look at his face. Her rapt eyes were still on the dancing flecks of color from the prism pendants swaying in the sunlit window. And thats all, she sighed, when she had finished. And now you know why I said the sun was trying to play itthat game. For a moment there was silence. Then a low voice from the bed said unsteadily: Perhaps; but Im thinking that the very finest prism of them all is yourself, Pollyanna. Oh, but I dont show beautiful red and green and purple when the sun shines through me, Mr. Pendleton! Dont you? smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face, wondered why there were tears in his eyes. No, she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: Im afraid, Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesnt make anything but freckles out of me. Aunt Polly says it does make them! The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh had sounded almost like a sob. |
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