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Where are you taking me to?" recoiled Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back. "Pollyanna, I shall not " "It's just to the sun parlor only a minute! I'll have you ready now quicker'n no time," panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose and thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear.
"The next page must be left for Polly's postscript, so I shall only send my kindest regards and wishes to Mrs. "Ever faithfully yours, "DEAR MRS. TROLLOPE, While I am reading La Beata I constantly feel as if Mr. Trollope were present telling it all to me vivâ voce. It seems to me more thoroughly and fully like himself than any of his other books.
The sight of big Sary urging little Jeb out to safety was so funny that every one had to laugh in spite of tears at the parting, so that Sary actually accomplished a great thing she turned the sadness at Polly's leaving her parents into a merry laughing scene for every one. Once the four who were to remain behind were on the platform again, the four in the Pullman gazed from their windows.
The six children were fast asleep in their little beds. I went to look at them once, to see if my little Timpey was all right; she was lying in little Polly's bed, their tiny hands fast clasped together as they slept. The tears came fast into my eyes, as I thought that they both had lost a father, and yet neither of them knew anything of their loss!
So she was asked to sing at musicales and receptions without end, until Alexia exclaimed at last, "They are all raving, stark-mad over her, and it's all Polly's own fault, the whole of it." Phronsie laid down the note she was writing to Mrs. Fargo, a fortnight later, and said to herself, "I would better do it now, I think," and going out, she went deliberately to old Mr.
I must first learn Gail's plans." "You will ALL come up. Every last one of you, Gail too; and if Gail bears even a passing resemblance to the rest of her family she isn't going to disgrace it." "She's perfectly lovely, Mr. Stewart," was Polly's emphatic praise of her pretty, twenty-year-old sister. "Your word goes, captain," answered Mr.
Somehow, latterly when thinking and planning for Peggy's well-being or pleasure, visions of Polly's tawny head invariably rose before him, and Polly's happy, sunny face was always beside the one he loved best of all. The two young girls had become inseparable in his thoughts as well as in reality. "Oh, Polly, will you?
"Hey?" asked Joel, with a daub of flour on the tip of his chubby nose, gained by too much peering into Polly's flour-bag. "What did she say, Polly?" watching her shake the clouds of flour in the sieve. "She said she was goin' to bake something for Jasper," said Polly. "There," as she whisked in the flour, "now that's done."
And as she moved she sang the Indian song of peace, the other girls straightway joining in, but it was not Polly's voice but Esther's that carried the music of the refrain far out over the fields, carried it at last to the ears of some one who had been seeking the home of the Sunrise Camp for the past two hours.
"Mine goes better with the room than yours, don't you think?" she asked, after a pause, with just a little too much show at indifference. "No, I don't." Polly's reply was prompt. "Color scheme doesn't matter to me anyway, but Bob's flag is going up somewhere." Fortunately, at this moment Betty burst into the room. "News, good news," she exclaimed.
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