Page 94 - pollyanna

that everlasting word ‘glad’! It’s ‘glad’—‘glad’—‘glad’ from
morning till night until I think I shall grow wild!’
From sheer amazement Pollyanna’s jaw dropped.
‘Why, Aunt Polly,’ she breathed, ‘I should think you’d be
glad to have me gl—Oh!’ she broke off, clapping her hand to
her lips and hurrying blindly from the room.
Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pol-
lyanna overtook him.
‘Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how—how
sorry I am,’ she panted, catching him with a detaining
hand.
‘Sorry nothin’! I ain’t blamin’ you,’ retorted the boy, sul-
lenly. ‘But I ain’t no beggar!’ he added, with sudden spirit.
‘Of course you aren’t! But you mustn’t blame auntie,’ ap-
pealed Pollyanna. ‘Probably I didn’t do the introducing
right, anyhow; and I reckon I didn’t tell her much who you
were. She is good and kind, really—she’s always been; but I
probably didn’t explain it right. I do wish I could find some
place for you, though!’
The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.
‘Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain’t no beg-
gar, you know.’
Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she
turned, her face illumined.
‘Say, I’ll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies’ Aid meets
this afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I’ll lay your case
before them. That’s what father always did, when he want-
ed anything—educating the heathen and new carpets, you
know.’