Page 73 - pollyanna

meals three times a day. I know Sally Miner, who waits
on him, and she says he hardly opens his head enough ter
tell what he wants ter eat. She has ter guess it more’n half
the time—only it’ll be somethin’ CHEAP! She knows that
without no tellin’.’
Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
‘I know. You have to look for cheap things when you’re
poor. Father and I took meals out a lot. We had beans and
fish balls most generally. We used to say how glad we were
we liked beans—that is, we said it specially when we were
looking at the roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty
cents. Does Mr. Pendleton like beans?’
‘Like ‘em! What if he does—or don’t? Why, Miss Polly-
anna, he ain’t poor. He’s got loads of money, John Pendleton
has—from his father. There ain’t nobody in town as rich as
he is. He could eat dollar bills, if he wanted to—and not
know it.’
Pollyanna giggled.
‘As if anybody COULD eat dollar bills and not know it,
Nancy, when they come to try to chew ‘em!’
‘Ho! I mean he’s rich enough ter do it,’ shrugged Nancy.
‘He ain’t spendin’ his money, that’s all. He’s a-savin’ of it.’
‘Oh, for the heathen,’ surmised Pollyanna. ‘How perfectly
splendid! That’s denying yourself and taking up your cross.
I know; father told me.’
Nancy’s lips parted abruptly, as if there were angry
words all ready to come; but her eyes, resting on Pollyan-
na’s jubilantly trustful face, saw something that prevented
the words being spoken.

Pollyanna