Поллианна
Pollyanna pays a visit
"Oh,thankyou. Ilovetofixpeople’shair,"exultedPollyanna,carefullylayingdownthehand-glassandreachingforacomb. "Isha’n’tdomuchto-day,ofcourse—I’minsuchahurryforyoutoseehowprettyyouare; butsomedayI’mgoingtotakeitalldownandhaveaperfectlylovelytimewithit,"shecried,touchingwithsoftfingersthewavinghairabovethesickwoman’sforehead.
ForfiveminutesPollyannaworkedswiftly,deftly,combingarefractorycurlintofluffiness,perkingupadroopingruffleattheneck,orshakingapillowintoplumpnesssothattheheadmighthaveabetterpose. Meanwhilethesickwoman,frowningprodigiously,andopenlyscoffingatthewholeprocedure,was,inspiteofherself,beginningtotinglewithafeelingperilouslyneartoexcitement.
"There!"pantedPollyanna,hastilypluckingapinkfromavasenearbyandtuckingitintothedarkhairwhereitwouldgivethebesteffect. "NowIreckonwe’rereadytobelookedat!" Andsheheldoutthemirrorintriumph.
"Humph!"gruntedthesickwoman,eyeingherreflectionseverely. "Ilikeredpinksbetterthanpinkones; butthen,it’llfade,anyhow,beforenight,sowhat’sthedifference!"
"ButIshouldthinkyou’dbegladtheydidfade,"laughedPollyanna,"‘causethenyoucanhavethefunofgettingsomemore. Ijustloveyourhairfluffedoutlikethat,"shefinishedwithasatisfiedgaze. "Don’tyou?"
"Hm-m;maybe. Still—‘twon’tlast,withmetossingbackandforthonthepillowasIdo."
