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Page 74
"What men and women need is encouragement. Their natural
resisting powers should be strengthened, not weakened. . . .
Instead of always harping on a man's faults, tell him of his
virtues. Try to pull him out of his rut of bad habits. Hold up to
him his better self, his REAL self that can dare and do and win
out! . . . The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful
character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town. . . .
People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a
man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way,
too, before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes--his
neighbors will return scowl for scowl, and add interest! . . .
When you look for the bad, expecting it, you will get it. When
you know you will find the good--you will get that. . . . Tell
your son Tom you KNOW he'll be glad to fill that woodbox--then
watch him start, alert and interested!"
The minister dropped the paper and lifted his chin. In a moment
he was on his feet, tramping the narrow room back and forth, back
and forth. Later, some time later, he drew a long breath, and
dropped himself in the chair at his desk.
"God helping me, I'll do it!" he cried softly. "I'll tell all my
Toms I KNOW they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them
work to do, and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing
it that they won't have TIME to look at their neighbors'
woodboxes!" And he picked up his sermon notes, tore straight
through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that on one side
of his chair lay "But woe unto you," and on the other, "scribes
and Pharisees, hypocrites!" while across the smooth white paper
before him his pencil fairly flew--after first drawing one black
line through Matthew twenty-third; 13--14 and 23."
Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday
was a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and
woman and child that heard it; and its text was one of
Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
"Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy
all ye that are upright in heart."
CHAPTER XXIII. AN ACCIDENT
At Mrs. Snow's request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton's
office to get the name of a medicine which Mrs. Snow had
forgotten. As it chanced, Pollyanna had never before seen the
inside of Dr. Chilton's office.
"I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't
it?" she said, looking interestedly about her.
The doctor smiled a little sadly.
"Yes--such as 'tis," he answered, as he wrote something on the
pad of paper in his hand; "but it's a pretty poor apology for a
home, Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all--not a home."
Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with
sympathetic understanding.
"I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence
to make a home," she said.
"Eh?" The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
"Mr. Pendleton told me," nodded Pollyanna, again; "about the
woman's hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why
don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe
you'd take Jimmy Bean--if Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him."
Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
"So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make
a home, does he?" he asked evasively.
"Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr.
Chilton?"
"Why don't I--what?" The doctor had turned back to his desk.
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