Поллианна
The Game
"Yes. YouseeI’dwantedadoll,andfatherhadwrittenthemso; butwhenthebarrelcametheladywrotethattherehadn’tanydollscomein,butthelittlecrutcheshad. Soshesent‘emalongastheymightcomeinhandyforsomechild,sometime. Andthat’swhenwebeganit."
"Well,ImustsayIcan’tseeanygameaboutthat,aboutthat,"declaredNancy,almostirritably.
"Oh,yes; thegamewastojustfindsomethingabouteverythingtobegladabout—nomatterwhat‘twas,"rejoinedPollyanna,earnestly. "Andwebeganrightthen—onthecrutches."
"Well,goodnessme! Ican’tseeanythin’terbegladabout—gettin’apairofcrutcheswhenyouwantedadoll!"
Pollyannaclappedherhands.
"Thereis—thereis,"shecrowed. "ButIcouldn’tseeit,either,Nancy,atfirst,"sheadded,withquickhonesty. "Fatherhadtotellittome."
"Well,then,supposeYOUtellME,"almostsnappedNancy.
"Goosey! Why,justbegladbecauseyoudon’t—NEED—‘EM!"exultedPollyanna,triumphantly. "Youseeit’sjustaseasy—whenyouknowhow!"
"Well,ofallthequeerdoin’s!"breathedNancy,regardingPollyannawithalmostfearfuleyes.
"Oh,butitisn’tqueer—it’slovely,"maintainedPollyannaenthusiastically. "Andwe’veplayediteversince. Andtheharder‘tis,themorefun‘tistoget‘emout; only—onlysometimesit’salmosttoohard—likewhenyourfathergoestoHeaven,andthereisn’tanybodybutaLadies’Aidleft." "Yes,orwhenyou’reputinasnippylittleroom‘wayatthetopofthehousewithnothin’init,"growledNancy.
