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Page 32
CHAPTER X. A SURPRISE FOR MRS. SNOW
The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that
lady, as at first, in a darkened room.
"It's the little girl from Miss Polly's, mother," announced
Milly, in a tired manner; then Pollyanna found herself alone with
the invalid.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" asked a fretful voice from the bed. "I
remember you. ANYbody'd remember you, I guess, if they saw you
once. I wish you had come yesterday. I WANTED you yesterday."
"Did you? Well, I'm glad 'tisn't any farther away from yesterday
than to-day is, then," laughed Pollyanna, advancing cheerily into
the room, and setting her basket carefully down on a chair. "My!
but aren't you dark here, though? I can't see you a bit," she
cried, unhesitatingly crossing to the window and pulling up the
shade. "I want to see if you've fixed your hair like I did--oh,
you haven't! But, never mind; I'm glad you haven't, after all,
'cause maybe you'll let me do it--later. But now I want you to
see what I've brought you."
The woman stirred restlessly.
"Just as if how it looks would make any difference in how it
tastes," she scoffed--but she turned her eyes toward the basket.
"Well, what is it?"
"Guess! What do you want?" Pollyanna had skipped back to the
basket. Her face was alight. The sick woman frowned.
"Why, I don't WANT anything, as I know of," she sighed. "After
all, they all taste alike!"
Pollyanna chuckled.
"This won't. Guess! If you DID want something, what would it be?"
The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but she had
so long been accustomed to wanting what she did not have, that to
state off-hand what she DID want seemed impossible--until she
knew what she had. Obviously, however, she must say something.
This extraordinary child was waiting.
"Well, of course, there's lamb broth--"
"I've got it!" crowed Pollyanna.
"But that's what I DIDN'T want," sighed the sick woman, sure now
of what her stomach craved. "It was chicken I wanted."
"Oh, I've got that, too," chuckled Pollyanna.
The woman turned in amazement.
"Both of them?" she demanded.
"Yes--and calf's-foot jelly," triumphed Pollyanna. "I was just
bound you should have what you wanted for once; so Nancy and I
fixed it. Oh, of course, there's only a little of each--but
there's some of all of 'em! I'm so glad you did want chicken,"
she went on contentedly, as she lifted the three little bowls
from her basket. "You see, I got to thinking on the way
here--what if you should say tripe, or onions, or something like
that, that I didn't have! Wouldn't it have been a shame--when I'd
tried so hard?" she laughed merrily.
There was no reply. The sick woman seemed to be trying--mentally
to find something she had lost.
"There! I'm to leave them all," announced Pollyanna, as she
arranged the three bowls in a row on the table. "Like enough
it'll be lamb broth you want to-morrow. How do you do to-day?"
she finished in polite inquiry.
"Very poorly, thank you," murmured Mrs. Snow, falling back into
her usual listless attitude. "I lost my nap this morning. Nellie
Higgins next door has begun music lessons, and her practising
drives me nearly wild. She was at it all the morning--every
minute! I'm sure, I don't know what I shall do!"
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