Элинор Портер - Поллианна / Pollyanna

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Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her “picture,” as she mentally designated the beautiful view from the window. The next moment she opened the window. She ran then to the other window and opened it too. Then Pollyanna made a wonderful discovery – against this window there was a huge tree. Suddenly she laughed aloud.

“I believe I can do it,” she chuckled. The next moment she climbed to the window ledge. From there it was easy to step to the nearest tree-branch. Then she reached the lowest branch and dropped to the ground.

She was at the back of the house. Then Pollyanna reached the path that ran through the open field.

Fifteen minutes later the great clock struck six. At the last stroke Nancy sounded the bell for supper.

One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned. She rose to her feet, went into the hall, and looked upstairs. For a minute she listened; then she turned and went to the dining room.

“Nancy,” she said, “my niece is late. You need not call her,” she added. “I told her what time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences.[19] She must learn to be punctual. When she comes she may have bread and milk in the kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

At the possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up to the attic room.

She softly pushed open the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. “Where are you?” she panted, and flew to Old Tom in the garden.

“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child’s gone,[20]” she cried.

The old man stopped, straightened up and pointed at the slender figure on top of a huge rock.

“Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,[21]” panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock.

“Scare? Oh, I’m so sorry; but you mustn’t, really, ever get scared about me, Nancy,” said Pollyanna and slid down the rock.

“I didn’t see you go, and nobody didn’t. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I do, I do. Poor little lamb, you must be hungry, too. I–I’m afraid you’ll have to have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Your aunt didn’t like it – because you didn’t come down to supper.”

“But I couldn’t. I was up here. But I’m glad.”

“Glad! Why?”

“I like bread and milk, and I’d like to eat with you. I don’t see any trouble about being glad about that.”

“You don’t seem to see any trouble being glad about everything,” retorted Nancy.

Pollyanna laughed softly.

“Well, that’s the game, you know, anyway.”

“The – GAME?”

“Yes; the ‘just being glad’ game.[22]”

“Whatever in the world are you talking about?”

“Why, it’s a game. Father told it to me, and it’s lovely. We’ve played it always, ever since I was a little, little girl. I told the Ladies’ Aid, and they played it – some of them… Only sometimes it’s almost too hard especially when your father goes to Heaven… I suppose, though, it’ll be a little harder now, as long as I haven’t anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it, though,” she added.

“See here, Miss Pollyanna, I’m not sure that I’ll play it very well, and I don’t know how but I’ll play it with you, I will!”

“Oh, Nancy! That’ll be splendid!”

“Maybe,” said Nancy, in open doubt. “You mustn’t count too much[23] on me but I’ll try to play it with you,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen together.

Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite and went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly.

“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”

“Yes, Aunt Polly.”

“I’m very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.[24]”

“But I was really glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and Nancy, too. You mustn’t feel bad about that.”

Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.

“Pollyanna, go to bed. It was a hard day, and tomorrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. Good night.”

Pollyanna came straight to her aunt’s side and gave her an affectionate hug.[25]

“I know I’m going to just love living with you but then. Good night,” she said cheerfully, as she ran from the room.

“What a most extraordinary child!” Aunt Polly said. Then she frowned. “She’s ‘glad’ I punished her, and I ‘mustn’t feel bad about that,’ and she’s going to ‘love to live’ with me! Well, upon my soul!”

Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into the sheet:

“I know, father-among-the-angels, I’m not playing the game; I don’t believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone in the dark. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies’ Aider, it would be easier![26]”

It was nearly seven o’clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her arrival. Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not see the sun yet; but she could see the morning sky, and she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.

Pollyanna ran to the garden where she saw Aunt Polly with an old man.

“Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I am glad this morning just to be alive![27]”

“PollyANNA!” said Aunt Polly, “is this the usual way you say good morning?”

“I saw you from my window and I decided to hug you!”

The old man turned his back suddenly.

“Do you always work in the garden, Mister?” asked Pollyanna.

The man turned. His eyes were filled with tears.

“Yes, Miss. I’m Old Tom, the gardener,” he answered. “You are so like your mother, little Miss! I used to know her when she was a young girl. You see, I used to work in the garden – then.”

“You did? And you knew my mother, really? Oh, please tell me about her!”

A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy appeared.

“Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast,” she said, pulling the little girl to her feet and hurrying her back to the house; “and other times it means other meals. But it always means that you must run when you hear it, no matter where you are.” she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house.

Half an hour after breakfast Miss Polly entered Pollyanna’s room.

“Pollyanna, you may bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over. What are not suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of course.”

Pollyanna dived into her closet then, hurriedly, and brought out all the poor little dresses in both her arms.

With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the garments, so obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna.

Aunt Polly turned to Pollyanna abruptly.

“You have been to school, of course, Pollyanna?[28]”

“Oh, yes, Aunt Polly. Besides, I was taught at home, too.”

Miss Polly frowned.

“Very good. In autumn you will enter school here, of course. Mr. Hall, will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.”

“I love to read; but if you don’t want to hear me I will be glad to read to myself, Aunt Polly.”

“I don’t doubt it,” rejoined Miss Polly. “Have you studied music?[29]”

“Not much. I don’t like my music. Though I learned to play the piano a little.”

“Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pollyanna sighed. “The Ladies’ Aid taught me that.”

“I shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I presume.”

Pollyanna laughed suddenly.

“They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn’t got far.[30]”

“At nine o’clock every morning you will read aloud one half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in order. Wednesday and Saturday, after half-past nine, you will spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music,” she finished.

Pollyanna cried out in dismay.

“Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven’t left me any time at all just to – to live.[31]”

“To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren’t living all the time!”

“I mean living – doing the things you want to do: playing outdoors, reading to myself, climbing hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy. That’s what I call living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn’t living!”

“Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a proper amount of playtime, of course.[32] Just be grateful.

Pollyanna looked shocked.

“Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful to YOU! I LOVE YOU, you’re my aunt!”

“Very well; then don’t act ungrateful,” said Miss Polly and turned toward the door.

She had gone halfway down the stairs[33] when a small, unsteady voice called after her:

“Please, Aunt Polly, you didn’t tell me which of my things you wanted to give away.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town at half past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my niece to wear.”

The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy on the back porch.

Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother and she felt very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six miles away at “The Corners,” where lived her own dear mother, and her dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that some time, if Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.

“And THEY’VE got lovely names, too. You’ll like THEIR names,” sighed Nancy. “They’re ‘Algernon,’ and ‘Florabelle’ and ‘Estelle.’ I–I just hate ‘Nancy’!”

“Oh, Nancy, why?”

“Because it isn’t pretty like the others.”

“But I love ‘Nancy,’ just because it’s you,” declared Pollyanna. “Well, anyhow,” she chuckled, “you can be glad your name isn’t ‘Hephzibah’.”

“Hephzibah!”

“Yes. Mrs. White’s name is that. Her husband calls her ‘Hep’ and she doesn’t like it. She says when he calls out ‘Hep – Hep![34]’ she feels just as if the next minute he was going to yell ‘Hurrah!’ And she doesn’t like it.”

Nancy smiled.

“Say, Miss Pollyanna, were you playing that game about my being glad I’m not ‘Hephzibah’?”

Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.

“Why, Nancy, that’s so! I WAS playing the game – but that’s one of the times I just did it without thinking, I reckon.”

“Well, m-maybe,” granted Nancy, with open doubt.

At half past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. It was very hot in her room and she could not sleep. It seemed to her that it must have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed[35] and opened her door.

Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness except where the moon flung a path of silver near the east window. She saw something else: she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat roof of Miss Polly’s sun parlor. If only, now, she were out there![36]

Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window a row of long white bags hanging from nails. She selected a nice fat soft bag for a bed; another bag for a pillow, and a thin bag which seemed almost empty for a covering. Then she stuffed her burden through the window to the roof below, then let herself down after it.

How deliciously cool it was! The roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps[37] that Pollyanna rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from end to end. Finally, with a sigh of content, she settled herself to sleep on the bag.

Downstairs in Miss Polly herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice to Timothy:

“Come up quick! – you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is on the roof of the sun parlor. And he can get right into the house through the east window in the attic!”

Some time later, Pollyanna was startled by a lantern flash. She opened her eyes to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near her, Old Tom just getting through the window,[38] and her aunt looking at her in surprise.

“Pollyanna, what does this mean?” cried Aunt Polly then.

“Why, Mr. Tom – Aunt Polly! Don’t look so scared!”

Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and followed his son. Miss Polly said sternly:

“Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here!” she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.

At the top of the stairs Miss Polly said:

“For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me. I consider it my duty to keep you where I know where you are.”

“With you? – in your bed?” Pollyanna cried rapturously. “Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I’ve so wanted to sleep with someone sometime – someone that belonged to me, you know.”

There was no reply. Miss Polly, to tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third time since Pollyanna’s arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna – and for the third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit.[39] No wonder Miss Polly was feeling curiously helpless.

It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into something like order. Pollyanna sewed, played the piano, read aloud, and studied cooking in the kitchen. But she had more time, also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all afternoon from two until six o’clock she could do everything she liked except the certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.

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