Page 76 - pollyanna

‘Guess! What do you want?’ Pollyanna had skipped
back to the basket. Her face was alight. The sick woman
frowned.
‘Why, I don’t WANT anything, as I know of,’ she sighed.
‘After all, they all taste alike!’
Pollyanna chuckled.
‘This won’t. Guess! If you DID want something, what
would it be?’
The woman hesitated. She did not realize it herself, but
she had so long been accustomed to wanting what she did
not have, that to state off-hand what she DID want seemed
impossible—until she knew what she had. Obviously, how-
ever, she must say something. This extraordinary child was
waiting.
‘Well, of course, there’s lamb broth—‘
‘I’ve got it!’ crowed Pollyanna.
‘But that’s what I DIDN’T want,’ sighed the sick wom-
an, sure now of what her stomach craved. ‘It was chicken I
wanted.’
‘Oh, I’ve got that, too,’ chuckled Pollyanna.
The woman turned in amazement.
‘Both of them?’ she demanded.
‘Yes—and calf’s-foot jelly,’ triumphed Pollyanna. ‘I was
just bound you should have what you wanted for once; so
Nancy and I fixed it. Oh, of course, there’s only a little of
each—but there’s some of all of ‘em! I’m so glad you did
want chicken,’ she went on contentedly, as she lifted the
three little bowls from her basket. ‘You see, I got to think-
ing on the way here—what if you should say tripe, or onions,