“Yes, sir, I say, it’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
“Eh? Oh! Humph![41]” he grunted; and strode on again.
Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
The next day she saw him again.
“It isn’t quite so nice as yesterday, but it’s pretty nice,” she called out cheerfully.
“Eh? Oh! Humph!” grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna laughed happily.
When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner, the man stopped.
“See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every day?”
“I’m Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I’m so glad you stopped. Now we’re introduced – only I don’t know your name yet.”
“Well, of all the – ” The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on faster than ever.
Pollyanna looked after him disappointed.
“Maybe he didn’t understand – but that was only half an introduction. I don’t know HIS name, yet.” she murmured.
Pollyanna was carrying calf’s-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow today. Miss Polly Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said it was her duty, as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a member of her church – it was the duty of all the church members to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually on Thursday afternoons – not personally, but through Nancy. Today Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her in accordance with Miss Polly’s orders.[42]
“I’m glad that I won’t go to her,” Nancy declared to Pollyanna.
“But, why, Nancy?”
Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, it’s just that nothing whatever has happened, has happened right in Mis’ Snow’s eyes. If you bring her jelly you’ll certainly hear she wanted chicken – but if you DID bring her chicken,[43] she says she wanted lamb broth!”
“What a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like to go to see her. She must be so surprising and – and different. I love DIFFERENT people.”
Pollyanna was thinking of Nancy’s remarks today as she turned in at the gate of the shabby little cottage.
A pale, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.
“How do you do?” began Pollyanna politely. “I’m from Miss Polly Harrington, and I’d like to see Mrs. Snow, please.”
In the dark and gloomy sick-room, Polyanna saw a woman half-sitting up in the bed.