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Page 70
"Pollyanna!" interrupted the man, savagely. "Once for all let us
end that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times
before. There is no money for the heathen. I never sent a penny
to them in my life. There!"
He lifted his chin and braced himself to meet what he
expected--the grieved disappointment of Pollyanna's eyes. To his
amazement, however, there was neither grief nor disappointment in
Pollyanna's eyes. There was only surprised joy.
"Oh, oh!" she cried, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad! That is,"
she corrected, coloring distressfully, "I don't mean that I'm not
sorry for the heathen, only just now I can't help being glad that
you don't want the little India boys, because all the rest have
wanted them. And so I'm glad you'd rather have Jimmy Bean. Now I
know you'll take him!"
"Take--WHO?"
"Jimmy Bean. He's the 'child's presence,' you know; and he'll be
so glad to be it. I had to tell him last week that even my
Ladies' Aid out West wouldn't take him, and he was so
disappointed. But now--when he hears of this--he'll be so glad!"
"Will he? Well, I won't," ejaculated the man, decisively.
"Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense!"
"You don't mean--you won't take him?"
"I certainly do mean just that."
"But he'd be a lovely child's presence," faltered Pollyanna. She
was almost crying now. "And you COULDN'T be lonesome--with Jimmy
'round."
"I don't doubt it," rejoined the man; "but--I think I prefer the
lonesomeness."
It was then that Pollyanna, for the first time in weeks, suddenly
remembered something Nancy had once told her. She raised her chin
aggrievedly.
"Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn't be better than
that old dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would!"
"SKELETON?"
"Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet, somewhere."
"Why, what--" Suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed.
He laughed very heartily indeed--so heartily that Pollyanna began
to cry from pure nervousness. When he saw that, John Pendleton
sat erect very promptly. His face grew grave at once.
"Pollyanna, I suspect you are right--more right than you know,"
he said gently. "In fact, I KNOW that a 'nice live little boy'
would be far better than--my skeleton in the closet; only--we
aren't always willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still
cling to--our skeletons, Pollyanna. However, suppose you tell me
a little more about this nice little boy." And Pollyanna told
him.
Perhaps the laugh cleared the air; or perhaps the pathos of Jimmy
Bean's story as told by Pollyanna's eager little lips touched a
heart already strangely softened. At all events, when Pollyanna
went home that night she carried with her an invitation for Jimmy
Bean himself to call at the great house with Pollyanna the next
Saturday afternoon.
"And I'm so glad, and I'm sure you'll like him," sighed
Pollyanna, as she said good-by. "I do so want Jimmy Bean to have
a home--and folks that care, you know."
CHAPTER XXII. SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
On the afternoon that Pollyanna told John Pendleton of Jimmy
Bean, the Rev. Paul Ford climbed the hill and entered the
Pendleton Woods, hoping that the hushed beauty of God's
out-of-doors would still the tumult that His children of men had
wrought.
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