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Page 39
"Gorry!" exclaimed Jimmy Bean tersely and uncomprehendingly, but
admiringly. Then he added: "I shouldn't think anybody who could
talk like that, runnin', would need ter ask no questions ter fill
up time with!"
Pollyanna laughed.
"Well, anyhow, you can be glad of that," she retorted; "for when
I'm talking, YOU don't have to!"
When the house was reached, Pollyanna unhesitatingly piloted her
companion straight into the presence of her amazed aunt.
"Oh, Aunt Polly," she triumphed, "just look a-here! I've got
something ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you
to bring up. It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping
in the attic, at first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I
shall need him the most of the time to play with, I reckon."
Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite
understand; but she thought she understood enough.
"Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy?
Where did you find him?" she demanded sharply.
The "dirty little boy" fell back a step and looked toward the
door. Pollyanna laughed merrily.
"There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as
the Man. And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy
is--just like Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I
reckon he'll improve all right by washing, just as they did,
and--Oh, I 'most forgot again," she broke off with a laugh. "This
is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly."
"Well, what is he doing here?"
"Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!" Pollyanna's eyes were wide
with surprise. "He's for you. I brought him home--so he could
live here, you know. He wants a home and folks. I told him how
good you were to me, and to Fluffy and Buffy, and that I knew you
would be to him, because of course he's even nicer than cats and
dogs."
Miss Polly dropped back in her chair and raised a shaking hand to
her throat. The old helplessness was threatening once more to
overcome her. With a visible struggle, however, Miss Polly pulled
herself suddenly erect.
"That will do, Pollyanna. This is a little the most absurd thing
you've done yet. As if tramp cats and mangy dogs weren't bad
enough but you must needs bring home ragged little beggars from
the street, who--"
There was a sudden stir from the boy. His eyes flashed and his
chin came up. With two strides of his sturdy little legs he
confronted Miss Polly fearlessly.
"I ain't a beggar, marm, an' I don't want nothin' o' you. I was
cal'latin' ter work, of course, fur my board an' keep. I wouldn't
have come ter your old house, anyhow, if this 'ere girl hadn't
'a' made me, a-tellin' me how you was so good an' kind that you'd
be jest dyin' ter take me in. So, there!" And he wheeled about
and stalked from the room with a dignity that would have been
absurd had it not been so pitiful.
"Oh, Aunt Polly," choked Pollyanna. "Why, I thought you'd be GLAD
to have him here! I'm sure, I should think you'd be glad--"
Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence.
Miss Polly's nerves had snapped at last. The "good and kind" of
the boy's words were still ringing in her ears, and the old
helplessness was almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her
forces with the last atom of her will power.
"Pollyanna," she cried sharply, "WILL you stop using that
everlasting word 'glad'! It's 'glad'--'glad'--'glad' from morning
till night until I think I shall grow wild!"
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