Pollyanna

  Produced by Charles Keller for Tina

  POLLYANNA

  By Eleanor H. Porter

  Author of "Miss Billy," "Miss Billy's Decision," "Cross Currents," "TheTurn of the Tides," etc.

  TO My Cousin Belle

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY II. OLD TOM AND NANCY III. THE COMING OF POLLYANNA IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM V. THE GAME VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS VIII. POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW XI. INTRODUCING JIMMY XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY XV. DR. CHILTON XVI. A RED ROSE AND A LACE: SHAWL XVII. "JUST LIKE A BOOK" XVIII. PRISMS XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING XX. WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING XXI. A QUESTION ANSWERED XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES XXIII. AN ACCIDENT XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON XXV. A WAITING GAME XXVI. A DOOR AJAR XXVII. TWO VISITS XXVIII. THE GAME AND ITS PLAYERS XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW XXX. JIMMY TAKES THE HELM XXXI. A NEW UNCLE XXXII. WHICH IS A LETTER FROM POLLYANNA

  POLLYANNA

  CHAPTER I. MISS POLLY

  Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly thisJune morning. Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; shespecially prided herself on her repose of manner. But to-day she washurrying--actually hurrying.

  Nancy, washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise. Nancy had beenworking in Miss Polly's kitchen only two months, but already she knewthat her mistress did not usually hurry.

  "Nancy!"

  "Yes, ma'am." Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued wipingthe pitcher in her hand.

  "Nancy,"--Miss Polly's voice was very stern now--"when I'm talking toyou, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I have to say."

  Nancy flushed miserably. She set the pitcher down at once, with thecloth still about it, thereby nearly tipping it over--which did not addto her composure.

  "Yes, ma'am; I will, ma'am," she stammered, righting the pitcher,and turning hastily. "I was only keepin' on with my work 'cause youspecially told me this mornin' ter hurry with my dishes, ye know."

  Her mistress frowned.

  "That will do, Nancy. I did not ask for explanations. I asked for yourattention."

  "Yes, ma'am." Nancy stifled a sigh. She was wondering if ever in any wayshe could please this woman. Nancy had never "worked out" before; buta sick mother suddenly widowed and left with three younger childrenbesides Nancy herself, had forced the girl into doing something towardtheir support, and she had been so pleased when she found a place inthe kitchen of the great house on the hill--Nancy had come from "TheCorners," six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only asthe mistress of the old Harrington homestead, and one of the wealthiestresidents of the town. That was two months before. She knew Miss Pollynow as a stern, severe-faced woman who frowned if a knife clattered tothe floor, or if a door banged--but who never thought to smile even whenknives and doors were still.

  "When you've finished your morning work, Nancy," Miss Polly was sayingnow, "you may clear the little room at the head of the stairs in theattic, and make up the cot bed. Sweep the room and clean it, of course,after you clear out the trunks and boxes."

  "Yes, ma'am. And where shall I put the things, please, that I take out?"

  "In the front attic." Miss Polly hesitated, then went on: "I suppose Imay as well tell you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, iscoming to live with me. She is eleven years old, and will sleep in thatroom."

  "A little girl--coming here, Miss Harrington? Oh, won't that be nice!"cried Nancy, thinking of the sunshine her own little sisters made in thehome at "The Corners."

  "Nice? Well, that isn't exactly the word I should use," rejoined MissPolly, stiffly. "However, I intend to make the best of it, of course. Iam a good woman, I hope; and I know my duty."

  Nancy colored hotly.

  "Of course, ma'am; it was only that I thought a little girl heremight--might brighten things up for you," she faltered.

  "Thank you," rejoined the lady, dryly. "I can't say, however, that I seeany immediate need for that."

  "But, of course, you--you'd want her, your sister's child," venturedNancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for thislonely little stranger.

  Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily.

  "Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who wassilly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world thatwas already quite full enough, I can't see how I should particularlyWANT to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hopeI know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy," she finishedsharply, as she left the room.

  "Yes, ma'am," sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitcher--now socold it must be rinsed again.

  In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she hadreceived two days before from the far-away Western town, and which hadbeen so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to MissPolly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows:

  "Dear Madam:--I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier diedtwo weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He leftpractically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know,he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagresalary.

  "I believe he was your deceased sister's husband, but he gave me tounderstand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought,however, that for your sister's sake you might wish to take the childand bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing toyou.

  "The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get thisletter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if youwould write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wifehere who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them toBoston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would benotified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on.

  "Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain,

  "Respectfully yours,

  "Jeremiah O. White."

  With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into itsenvelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she wouldtake the child, of course. She HOPED she knew her duty well enough forthat!--disagreeable as the task would be.

  As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back toher sister, Jennie, who had been this child's mother, and to the timewhen Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the youngminister, in spite of her family's remonstrances. There had been a manof wealth who had wanted her--and the family had much preferred him tothe minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, aswell as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a younghead full of youth's ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love.Jennie had preferred these--quite naturally, perhaps; so she had marriedthe minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionary's wife.

  The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she hadbeen but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family hadhad little more to do with the missionary's wife. To be sure, Jennieherself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby "Pollyanna"for her two sisters, Polly and Anna--the other babies had all died. Thishad been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years therehad come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken littlenote from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West.

  Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great houseon the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below,thought of t
he changes those twenty-five years had brought to her.

  She was forty now, and quite alone in the world. Father, mother,sisters--all were dead. For years, now, she had been sole mistress ofthe house and of the thousands left her by her father. There were peoplewho had openly pitied her lonely life, and who had urged her to havesome friend or companion to live with her; but she had not welcomedeither their sympathy or their advice. She was not lonely, she said. Sheliked being by herself. She preferred quiet. But now--

  Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was glad,of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only knewher duty, but had sufficient strength of character to perform it.But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!