Поллианна

           ForabriefinstantPollyanna’scountenanceshoweddisappointment; butitclearedasshesetthebowlofjellydown. 

           "Didn’tyou? Well,ifyoudidn’t,thenyoucan’tknowyouDON’Tlikeit,anyhow,canyou? SoIreckonI’mgladyouhaven’t,afterall. Now,ifyouknew—" 

           "Yes,yes; well,there’sonethingIknowallright,andthatisthatI’mflatonmybackrightherethisminute,andthatI’mliabletostayhere—tilldoomsday,Iguess." 

           Pollyannalookedshocked. 

           "Oh,no! Itcouldn’tbetilldoomsday,youknow,whentheangelGabrielblowshistrumpet,unlessitshouldcomequickerthanwethinkitwill—oh,ofcourse,IknowtheBiblesaysitmaycomequickerthanwethink,butIdon’tthinkitwill—thatis,ofcourseIbelievetheBible; butImeanIdon’tthinkitwillcomeasmuchquickerasitwouldifitshouldcomenow,and—" 

           JohnPendletonlaughedsuddenly—andaloud. Thenurse,cominginatthatmoment,heardthelaugh,andbeatahurried—butaverysilent—retreat. Hehadtheairofafrightenedcookwho,seeingthedangerofabreathofcoldairstrikingahalf-donecake,hastilyshutstheovendoor. 

           "Aren’tyougettingalittlemixed?"askedJohnPendletonofPollyanna. 

           Thelittlegirllaughed. 

           "Maybe. ButwhatImeanis,thatlegsdon’tlast—brokenones,youknow—likelifelonginvalids,sameasMrs.Snowhasgot. Soyourswon’tlasttilldoomsdayatall. Ishouldthinkyoucouldbegladofthat." "Oh,Iam,"retortedthemangrimly.