Page 126 - pollyanna

nounced Pollyanna, bounding up the steps. ‘He’s lovely,
Nancy!’
‘Is he?’
‘Yes. And I told him I should think his business would be
the very gladdest one there was.’
‘What!—goin’ ter see sick folks—an’ folks what ain’t sick
but thinks they is, which is worse? Nancy’s face showed
open skepticism.
Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
‘Yes. That’s ‘most what he said, too; but there is a way to
be glad, even then. Guess!’
Nancy frowned in meditation. Nancy was getting so she
could play this game of ‘being glad’ quite successfully, she
thought. She rather enjoyed studying out Pollyanna’s ‘pos-
ers,’ too, as she called some of the little girl’s questions.
‘Oh, I know,’ she chuckled. ‘It’s just the opposite from
what you told Mis’ Snow.’
‘Opposite?’ repeated Pollyanna, obviously puzzled.
‘Yes. You told her she could be glad because other folks
wasn’t like her—all sick, you know.’
‘Yes,’ nodded Pollyanna.
‘Well, the doctor can be glad because he isn’t like oth-
er folks—the sick ones, I mean, what he doctors,’ finished
Nancy in triumph.
It was Pollyanna’s turn to frown.
‘Why, y-yes,’ she admitted. ‘Of course that IS one way,
but it isn’t the way I said; and—someway, I don’t seem to
quite like the sound of it. It isn’t exactly as if he said he was
glad they WERE sick, but—You do play the game so funny,

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