POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS
At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece
to the four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about
half a mile from the homestead.
Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less
of an exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out
of it with the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at
finding oneself at last on solid earth after a perilous walk
across the very thin crust of a volcano. The various clerks who
had waited upon the pair came out of it with very red faces, and
enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to keep their friends in
gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna herself came
out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as she
expressed it to one of the clerks: "When you haven't had anybody
but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS
perfectly lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are
brand-new, and that don't have to be tucked up or let down
because they don't fit!"
The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came
supper and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and
another with Nancy on the back porch, after the dishes were done,
and while Aunt Polly paid a visit to a neighbor.
Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made
her very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little
farm six miles away at "The Corners," where lived her own dear
mother, and her equally dear brother and sisters. She promised,
too, that sometime, if Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should
be taken to see them.
"And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names,"
sighed Nancy. "They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and
'Estelle.' I--I just hate 'Nancy'!"
"Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?"
"Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the
first baby, and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with
the pretty names in 'em, then."
"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.
"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as
well," retorted Nancy, and it would be a heap happier for me. I
think THAT name's just grand!"
Pollyanna laughed.
"Well, anyhow," she chuckled, "you can be glad it isn't
'Hephzibah.'
"Hephzibah!"
"Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and
she doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she
feels just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!'
And she doesn't like to be hurrahed at."
Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.
"Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't
never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and
giggle. My, I guess I AM glad--" She stopped short and turned
amazed eyes on the little girl. "Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you
mean--was you playin' that 'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I
wa'n't named Hephzibah'?"
Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.
"Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of
the times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you
DO, lots of times; you get so used to it--looking for something
to be glad about, you know. And most generally there is something
about everything that you can be glad about, if you keep hunting
long enough to find it."
"Well, m-maybe," granted Nancy, with open doubt.
At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not
yet come, and the close little room was like an oven. With
longing eyes Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but
she did not raise them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly,
said her prayers, blew out her candle and climbed into bed.
Just how long she lay in sleepless misery, tossing from side to
side of the hot little cot, she did not know; but it seemed to
her that it must have been hours before she finally slipped out
of bed, felt her way across the room and opened her door.
Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness save where the
moon flung a path of silver half-way across the floor from the
east dormer window. With a resolute ignoring of that fearsome
darkness to the right and to the left, Pollyanna drew a quick
breath and pattered straight into that silvery path, and on to
the window.
She had hoped, vaguely, that this window might have a screen, but
it did not. Outside, however, there was a wide world of
fairy-like beauty, and there was, too, she knew, fresh, sweet air
that would feel so good to hot cheeks and hands!
As she stepped nearer and peered longingly out, she saw something
else: she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat
tin roof of Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere.
The sight filled her with longing. If only, now, she were out
there!
Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her
hot little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and
them lay a horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel
one's way with outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her,
out on the sun-parlor roof, were the moonlight and the cool,
sweet night air.
If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors.
Joel Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD
to sleep out of doors.
Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic
window a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had
said that they contained the winter clothing, put away for the
summer. A little fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these
bags, selected a nice fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's
sealskin coat) for a bed; and a thinner one to be doubled up for
a pillow, and still another (which was so thin it seemed almost
empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna in high glee
pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash, stuffed
her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down after
it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried
things.
How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down
with delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing
air. The tin roof under her feet crackled with little resounding
snaps that Pollyanna rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or
three times back and forth from end to end--it gave her such a
pleasant sensation of airy space after her hot little room; and
the roof was so broad and flat that she had no fear of falling
off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself up on
the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.
"I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come," she murmured,
blinking up at the stars; "else I couldn't have had this!"
Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face
white and frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in
a shaking voice to Timothy:
"Come up quick!--you and your father. Bring lanterns. Somebody is
on the roof of the sun parlor. He must have climbed up the
rose-trellis or somewhere, and of course he can get right into
the house through the east window in the attic. I have locked the
attic door down here--but hurry, quick!"
Some time later, Pollyanna, just dropping off to sleep, was
startled by a lantern flash, and a trio of amazed ejaculations.
She opened her eyes to find Timothy at the top of a ladder near
her, Old Tom just getting through the window, and her aunt
peering out at her from behind him.
"Pollyanna, what does this mean?" cried Aunt Polly then.
Pollyanna blinked sleepy eyes and sat up.
"Why, Mr. Tom--Aunt Polly!" she stammered. "Don't look so scared!
It isn't that I've got the consumption, you know, like Joel
Hartley. It's only that I was so hot--in there. But I shut the
window, Aunt Polly, so the flies couldn't carry those germ-things
in."
Timothy disappeared suddenly down the ladder. Old Tom, with
almost equal precipitation, handed his lantern to Miss Polly, and
followed his son. Miss Polly bit her lip hard--until the men were
gone; then she said sternly:
"Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here. Of
all the extraordinary children!" she ejaculated a little later,
as, with Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she
turned back into the attic.
To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool
breath of the out of doors; but she did not complain. She only
drew a long quivering sigh.
At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply:
"For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed
with me. The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I
consider it my duty to keep you where I know where you are."
Pollyanna drew in her breath.
"With you?--in your bed?" she cried rapturously. "Oh, Aunt Polly,
Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you! And when I've so wanted
to sleep with some one sometime--some one that belonged to me,
you know; not a Ladies' Aider. I've HAD them. My! I reckon I am
glad now those screens didn't come! Wouldn't you be?"
There was no reply. Miss Polly was stalking on ahead. Miss Polly,
to tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless. For the third
time since Pollyanna's arrival, Miss Polly was punishing
Pollyanna--and for the third time she was being confronted with
the amazing fact that her punishment was being taken as a special
reward of merit. No wonder Miss Polly was feeling curiously
helpless.