Поллианна
A Red rose and a Lace shawl
"Nonsense! Whatdoyoumean,Pollyanna,bygoingtotheLadies’Aidtheotherdayinthatabsurdfashionaboutthatbeggarboy?"
"Butitisn’tnonsense,"urgedPollyanna,answeringonlythefirstofheraunt’sremarks. "Youdon’tknowhowprettyyoulookwithyourhairlikethat! Oh,AuntPolly,please,mayn’tIdoyourhairlikeIdidMrs.Snow’s,andputinaflower? I’dsolovetoseeyouthatway! Why,you’dbeeversomuchprettierthanshewas!"
"Pollyanna!" (MissPollyspokeverysharply—allthemoresharplybecausePollyanna’swordshadgivenheranoddthrobofjoy:whenbeforehadanybodycaredhowshe,orherhairlooked? Whenbeforehadanybody"loved"toseeher"pretty"?) "Pollyanna,youdidnotanswermyquestion. WhydidyougototheLadies’Aidinthatabsurdfashion?"
"Yes’m,Iknow; but,please,Ididn’tknowitwasabsurduntilIwentandfoundoutthey’dratherseetheirreportgrowthanJimmy. SothenIwrotetoMYLadies’Aiders—‘causeJimmyisfarawayfromthem,youknow; andIthoughtmaybehecouldbetheirlittleIndiaboysameas—AuntPolly,WASIyourlittleIndiagirl? And,AuntPolly,youWILLletmedoyourhair,won’tyou?"
AuntPollyputherhandtoherthroat—theold,helplessfeelingwasuponher,sheknew.
"But,Pollyanna,whentheladiestoldmethisafternoonhowyoucametothem,Iwassoashamed! I—"
