|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 94
"Yes, dear." Miss Polly sternly forced her voice to be
cheerfully matter-of-fact. "Nancy told me. I think it's a
beautiful game. I'm going to play it now--with you."
"Oh, Aunt Polly--YOU? I'm so glad! You see, I've really wanted
you most of anybody, all the time."
Aunt Polly caught her breath a little sharply. It was even harder
this time to keep her voice steady; but she did it.
"Yes, dear; and there are all those others, too. Why, Pollyanna,
I think all the town is playing that game now with you--even to
the minister! I haven't had a chance to tell you, yet, but this
morning I met Mr. Ford when I was down to the village, and he
told me to say to you that just as soon as you could see him, he
was coming to tell you that he hadn't stopped being glad over
those eight hundred rejoicing texts that you told him about. So
you see, dear, it's just you that have done it. The whole town is
playing the game, and the whole town is wonderfully happier--and
all because of one little girl who taught the people a new game,
and how to play it."
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
"Oh, I'm so glad," she cried. Then, suddenly, a wonderful light
illumined her face. "Why, Aunt Polly, there IS something I can be
glad about, after all. I can be glad I've HAD my legs,
anyway--else I couldn't have done--that!"
CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW
One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were not
short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain.
Very resolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a
cheerful face toward whatever came. Was she not specially bound
to play the game, now that Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And
Aunt Polly found so many things to be glad about! It was Aunt
Polly, too, who discovered the story one day about the two poor
little waifs in a snow-storm who found a blown-down door to crawl
under, and who wondered what poor folks did that didn't have any
door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home the other story that
she had heard about the poor old lady who had only two teeth, but
who was so glad that those two teeth "hit"!
Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out
of bright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths
across the white spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs.
Snow--so glad she had her hands and arms, anyway.
Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the
loving messages from those she could not see; and always they
brought her something new to think about--and Pollyanna needed
new things to think about.
Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy
Bean. John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was
getting to be, and how well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what
a first-rate home he had, and what bang-up "folks" Mr. Pendleton
made; and both had said that it was all owing to her.
"Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my
legs," Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.
The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers over
Pollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the
prescribed treatment. There seemed every reason to believe,
indeed, that Dr. Mead's worst fears would be realized--that
Pollyanna would never walk again.
Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning
Pollyanna; and of Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and
fretted himself into a fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins
which he managed in some way to procure from the bed of
suffering. As the days passed, however, and the news came to be
no better, but rather worse, something besides anxiety began to
show in the man's face: despair, and a very dogged
determination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the
dogged determination won; and it was then that Mr. John
Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise, received one Saturday
morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|