Поллианна
Pollyanna and punishments
Pollyannafrowned;thenshelaughed.
"Why,Nancy,that’sso! IWASplayingthegame—butthat’soneofthetimesIjustdiditwithoutthinking,Ireckon. Yousee,youDO,lotsoftimes; yougetsousedtoit—lookingforsomethingtobegladabout,youknow. Andmostgenerallythereissomethingabouteverythingthatyoucanbegladabout,ifyoukeephuntinglongenoughtofindit."
"Well,m-maybe,"grantedNancy,withopendoubt.
Athalf-pasteightPollyannawentuptobed. Thescreenshadnotyetcome,andthecloselittleroomwaslikeanoven. WithlongingeyesPollyannalookedatthetwofast-closedwindows—butshedidnotraisethem. Sheundressed,foldedherclothesneatly,saidherprayers,blewouthercandleandclimbedintobed.
Justhowlongshelayinsleeplessmisery,tossingfromsidetosideofthehotlittlecot,shedidnotknow; butitseemedtoherthatitmusthavebeenhoursbeforeshefinallyslippedoutofbed,feltherwayacrosstheroomandopenedherdoor.
Outinthemainatticallwasvelvetblacknesssavewherethemoonflungapathofsilverhalf-wayacrossthefloorfromtheeastdormerwindow. Witharesoluteignoringofthatfearsomedarknesstotherightandtotheleft,Pollyannadrewaquickbreathandpatteredstraightintothatsilverypath,andontothewindow.
