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Page 26
The next day she saw him again.
" 'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice," she
called out cheerfully.
"Eh? Oh! Humph!" grunted the man as before; and once again
Pollyanna laughed happily.
When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same
manner, the man stopped abruptly.
"See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me
every day?"
"I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm
so glad you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't 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 didn't understand--but that was only half an
introduction. I don't know HIS name, yet," she murmured, as she
proceeded on her way.
Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day.
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 church--it 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
afternoons--not personally, but through Nancy. To-day Pollyanna
had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her
in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
"And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Nancy had declared
in private afterwards to Pollyanna; "though it's a shame ter be
tuckin' the job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!"
"But I'd love to do it, Nancy."
"Well, you won't--after you've done it once," predicted Nancy,
sourly.
"Why not?"
"Because nobody does. If folks wa'n't sorry for her there
wouldn't a soul go near her from mornin' till night, she's 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, it's just that nothin' what ever has
happened, has happened right in Mis' Snow's eyes. Even the days
of the week ain't run ter her mind. If it's Monday she's bound
ter say she wished 'twas Sunday; and if you take her jelly you're
pretty sure ter hear she wanted chicken--but if you DID bring her
chicken, she'd 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 and--and
different. I love DIFFERENT folks."
"Humph! Well, Mis' Snow's 'different,' all right--I hope, for the
sake of the rest of us!" Nancy had finished grimly.
Pollyanna was thinking of these remarks to-day 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.
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