Поллианна
A waiting Game
"Iwouldn’t‘a’believedit—youcouldn’t‘a’mademebelieveit,"NancysaidtoOldTomonemorning. "Theredon’tseemterbeaminuteinthedaythatMissPollyain’tjesthangin’‘roundwaitin’terdosomethin’forthatblessedlambif‘tain’tmorethanterletinthecat—an’herwhatwouldn’tletFluffnorBuffup-stairsforlovenormoneyaweekago; an’nowshelets‘emtumblealloverthebedjest‘causeitpleasesMissPollyanna!
"An’whensheain’tdoin’nothin’else,she’smovin’themlittleglassdanglers‘roundterdiff’rentwindersintheroomsothesun’llmakethe‘rainbowsdance,’asthatblessedchildcallsit. She’ssentTimothydownterCobb’sgreenhousethreetimesforfreshflowers—an’thatbesidesalltheposiesfetchedinterher,too. An’theotherday,ifIdidn’tfindhersittin’‘forethebedwiththenurseactuallydoin’herhair,an’MissPollyannalookin’onan’bossin’fromthebed,hereyesallshinin’an’happy. An’Ideclaretergoodness,ifMissPollyhain’tworeherhairlikethateverydaynow—jestterpleasethatblessedchild!"
OldTomchuckled.
"Well,itstrikesmeMissPollyherselfain’tlookin’nonetheworse—forwearin’them‘erecurls‘roundherforehead,"heobserveddryly.
"‘Coursesheain’t,"retortedNancy,indignantly. "ShelookslikeFOLKS,now. She’sactuallyalmost—"
