Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter


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Page 38

"My name's Pollyanna Whittier," she began pleasantly. "What's
yours?"

Again the boy stirred restlessly. He even almost got to his feet.
But he settled back.

"Jimmy Bean," he grunted with ungracious indifference.

"Good! Now we're introduced. I'm glad you did your part--some
folks don't, you know. I live at Miss Polly Harrington's house.
Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"Nowhere! Why, you can't do that--everybody lives somewhere,"
asserted Pollyanna.

"Well, I don't--just now. I'm huntin' up a new place."

"Oh! Where is it?"

The boy regarded her with scornful eyes.

"Silly! As if I'd be a-huntin' for it--if I knew!"

Pollyanna tossed her head a little. This was not a nice boy, and
she did not like to be called "silly." Still, he was somebody
besides--old folks. "Where did you live--before?" she queried.

"Well, if you ain't the beat'em for askin' questions!" sighed the
boy impatiently.

"I have to be," retorted Pollyanna calmly, "else I couldn't find
out a thing about you. If you'd talk more I wouldn't talk so
much."

The boy gave a short laugh. It was a sheepish laugh, and not
quite a willing one; but his face looked a little pleasanter when
he spoke this time.

"All right then--here goes! I'm Jimmy Bean, and I'm ten years old
goin' on eleven. I come last year ter live at the Orphans' Home;
but they've got so many kids there ain't much room for me, an' I
wa'n't never wanted, anyhow, I don't believe. So I've quit. I'm
goin' ter live somewheres else--but I hain't found the place,
yet. I'd LIKE a home--jest a common one, ye know, with a mother
in it, instead of a Matron. If ye has a home, ye has folks; an' I
hain't had folks since--dad died. So I'm a-huntin' now. I've
tried four houses, but--they didn't want me--though I said I
expected ter work, 'course. There! Is that all you want ter
know?" The boy's voice had broken a little over the last two
sentences.

"Why, what a shame!" sympathized Pollyanna. "And didn't there
anybody want you? O dear! I know just how you feel, because
after--after my father died, too, there wasn't anybody but the
Ladies' Aid for me, until Aunt Polly said she'd take--" Pollyanna
stopped abruptly. The dawning of a wonderful idea began to show
in her face.

"Oh, I know just the place for you," she cried. "Aunt Polly'll
take you--I know she will! Didn't she take me? And didn't she
take Fluffy and Buffy, when they didn't have any one to love
them, or any place to go?--and they're only cats and dogs. Oh,
come, I know Aunt Polly'll take you! You don't know how good and
kind she is!"

Jimmy Bean's thin little face brightened.

"Honest Injun? Would she, now? I'd work, ye know, an' I'm real
strong!" He bared a small, bony arm.

"Of course she would! Why, my Aunt Polly is the nicest lady in
the world--now that my mama has gone to be a Heaven angel. And
there's rooms--heaps of 'em," she continued, springing to her
feet, and tugging at his arm. "It's an awful big house. Maybe,
though," she added a little anxiously, as they hurried on, "maybe
you'll have to sleep in the attic room. I did, at first. But
there's screens there now, so 'twon't be so hot, and the flies
can't get in, either, to bring in the germ-things on their feet.
Did you know about that? It's perfectly lovely! Maybe she'll let
you read the book if you're good--I mean, if you're bad. And
you've got freckles, too,"--with a critical glance--"so you'll be
glad there isn't any looking-glass; and the outdoor picture is
nicer than any wall-one could be, so you won't mind sleeping in
that room at all, I'm sure," panted Pollyanna, finding suddenly
that she needed the rest of her breath for purposes other than
talking.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 23rd Dec 2025, 0:10