Поллианна

           "Ofcoursenot—andI’mglad,too,"noddedPollyanna,cheerfully,"becausethenIcanfixitagain. Anyhow,Ishouldthinkyou’dbegladit’sblack—blackshowsupsomuchniceronapillowthanyellowhairlikeminedoes." 

           "Maybe; butIneverdidsetmuchstorebyblackhair—showsgraytoosoon,"retortedMrs.Snow. Shespokefretfully,butshestillheldthemirrorbeforeherface. 

           "Oh,Iloveblackhair! IshouldbesogladifIonlyhadit,"sighedPollyanna. 

           Mrs.Snowdroppedthemirrorandturnedirritably. 

           "Well,youwouldn’t!—notifyouwereme. Youwouldn’tbegladforblackhairnoranythingelse—ifyouhadtolieherealldayasIdo!" 

           Pollyannabentherbrowsinathoughtfulfrown. 

           "Why,‘twouldbekindofhard—todoitthen,wouldn’tit?"shemusedaloud. 

           "Dowhat?" 

           "Begladaboutthings." 

           "Begladaboutthings—whenyou’resickinbedallyourdays? Well,Ishouldsayitwould,"retortedMrs.Snow. "Ifyoudon’tthinkso,justtellmesomethingtobegladabout;that’sall!" 

           ToMrs.Snow’sunboundedamazement,Pollyannasprangtoherfeetandclappedherhands. 

           "Oh,goody! That’llbeahardone—won’tit? I’vegottogo,now,butI’llthinkandthinkallthewayhome; andmaybethenexttimeIcomeIcantellittoyou. Good-by. I’vehadalovelytime! Good-by,"shecalledagain,asshetrippedthroughthedoorway.