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Page 18
Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated
work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered
Jerkily:
"If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got
crutches when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein'
that rock o' refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!"
CHAPTER VI. A QUESTION OF DUTY
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 hazy blue of
the morning sky, and she knew that the day promised to be a fair
one.
The little room was cooler now, and the air blew in fresh and
sweet. Outside, the birds were twittering joyously, and Pollyanna
flew to the window to talk to them. She saw then that down in the
garden her aunt was already out among the rosebushes. With rapid
fingers, therefore, she made herself ready to join her.
Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide
open. Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through
the front screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush
when Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just
to be alive!"
"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as
erect as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds
hanging about her neck. "Is this the usual way you say good
morning?"
The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and
down.
"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you
from my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T
a Ladies' Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you
looked so good I just had to come down and hug you!"
The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
frown--with not her usual success.
"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think
you understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then
she turned and walked rapidly away.
"Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?" asked Pollyanna,
interestedly.
The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked
blurred as if with tears.
"Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener," he answered. Timidly, but
as if impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking
hand and let it rest for a moment on her bright hair. "You are so
like your mother, little Miss! I used ter know her when she was
even littler than you be. You see, I used ter work in the
garden--then."
Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
"You did? And you knew my mother, really--when she was just a
little earth angel, and not a Heaven one? Oh, please tell me
about her!" And down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt
path by the old man's side.
A bell sounded from the house. The next moment Nancy was seen
flying out the back door.
"Miss Pollyanna, that bell means breakfast--mornin's," she
panted, 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're ter run like time when ye hear it, no
matter where ye be. If ye don't--well, it'll take somethin'
smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about in that!" she
finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo an
unruly chicken into a coop.
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