Page 45 - pollyanna

to your room at once and read it. I will be up in half an hour
to look over your things.’
Pollyanna, her eyes on the illustration of a fly’s head,
many times magnified, cried joyously:
‘Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!’ The next moment she
skipped merrily from the room, banging the door behind
her.
Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room
majestically and opened the door; but Pollyanna was al-
ready out of sight, clattering up the attic stairs.
Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing
stern duty in every line, climbed those stairs and entered
Pollyanna’s room, she was greeted with a burst of eager en-
thusiasm.
‘Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely
and interesting in my life. I’m so glad you gave me that book
to read! Why, I didn’t suppose flies could carry such a lot of
things on their feet, and—‘
‘That will do,’ observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. ‘Polly-
anna, you may bring out your clothes now, and I will look
them over. What are not suitable for you I shall give to the
Sullivans, of course.’
With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pam-
phlet and turned toward the closet.
‘I’m afraid you’ll think they’re worse than the Ladies’ Aid
did—and THEY said they were shameful,’ she sighed. ‘But
there were mostly things for boys and older folks in the last
two or three barrels; and—did you ever have a missionary
barrel, Aunt Polly?’

Pollyanna