Pollyanna & Pollyanna Grows Up (Musaicum Children's Classics). Eleanor H. Porter

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СКАЧАТЬ stifling heat. To her joy the sash moved under her fingers. The next moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out, drinking in the fresh, sweet air.

      She ran then to the other window. That, too, soon flew up under her eager hands. A big fly swept past her nose, and buzzed noisily about the room. Then another came, and another; but Pollyanna paid no heed. Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery—against this window a huge tree flung great branches. To Pollyanna they looked like arms outstretched, inviting her. Suddenly she laughed aloud.

      “I believe I can do it,” she chuckled. The next moment she had climbed nimbly to the window ledge. From there it was an easy matter to step to the nearest tree-branch. Then, clinging like a monkey, she swung herself from limb to limb until the lowest branch was reached. The drop to the ground was—even for Pollyanna, who was used to climbing trees—a little fearsome. She took it, however, with bated breath, swinging from her strong little arms, and landing on all fours in the soft grass. Then she picked herself up and looked eagerly about her.

      She was at the back of the house. Before her lay a garden in which a bent old man was working. Beyond the garden a little path through an open field led up a steep hill, at the top of which a lone pine tree stood on guard beside the huge rock. To Pollyanna, at the moment, there seemed to be just one place in the world worth being in—the top of that big rock.

      With a run and a skilful turn, Pollyanna skipped by the bent old man, threaded her way between the orderly rows of green growing things, and—a little out of breath—reached the path that ran through the open field. Then, determinedly, she began to climb. Already, however, she was thinking what a long, long way off that rock must be, when back at the window it had looked so near!

      Fifteen minutes later the great clock in the hallway of the Harrington homestead struck six. At precisely the last stroke Nancy sounded the bell for supper.

      One, two, three minutes passed. Miss Polly frowned and tapped the floor with her slipper. A little jerkily she rose to her feet, went into the hall, and looked up-stairs, plainly impatient. For a minute she listened intently; then she turned and swept into the dining room.

      “Nancy,” she said with decision, as soon as the little serving-maid appeared; “my niece is late. No, you need not call her,” she added severely, as Nancy made a move toward the hall door. “I told her what time supper was, and now she will have to suffer the consequences. She may as well begin at once to learn to be punctual. When she comes down she may have bread and milk in the kitchen.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” It was well, perhaps, that Miss Polly did not happen to be looking at Nancy’s face just then.

      At the earliest possible moment after supper, Nancy crept up the back stairs and thence to the attic room.

      “Bread and milk, indeed!—and when the poor lamb hain’t only just cried herself to sleep,” she was muttering fiercely, as she softly pushed open the door. The next moment she gave a frightened cry. “Where are you? Where’ve you gone? Where HAVE you gone?” she panted, looking in the closet, under the bed, and even in the trunk and down the water pitcher. Then she flew down-stairs and out to Old Tom in the garden.

      “Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child’s gone,” she wailed. “She’s vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb—and me told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen—her what’s eatin’ angel food this minute, I’ll warrant, I’ll warrant!”

      The old man straightened up.

      “Gone? Heaven?” he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment intently, then turned with a slow grin. “Well, Nancy, it do look like as if she’d tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that’s a fact,” he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge rock.

      “Well, she ain’t goin’ ter Heaven that way ter-night—not if I has my say,” declared Nancy, doggedly. “If the mistress asks, tell her I ain’t furgettin’ the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,” she flung back over her shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field.

      Chapter V.

       The Game

       Table of Contents

      “For the land’s sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,” panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just regretfully slid.

      “Scare? Oh, I’m so sorry; but you mustn’t, really, ever get scared about me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies’ Aid used to do it, too, till they found I always came back all right.”

      “But I didn’t even know you’d went,” cried Nancy, tucking the little girl’s hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. “I didn’t see you go, and nobody didn’t. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I do, I do.”

      Pollyanna skipped gleefully.

      “I did, ‘most—only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.”

      Nancy stopped short.

      “You did—what?”

      “Came down the tree, outside my window.”

      “My stars and stockings!” gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. “I’d like ter know what yer aunt would say ter that!”

      “Would you? Well, I’ll tell her, then, so you can find out,” promised the little girl, cheerfully.

      “Mercy!” gasped Nancy. “No—no!”

      “Why, you don’t mean she’d CARE!” cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed.

      “No—er—yes—well, never mind. I—I ain’t so very particular about knowin’ what she’d say, truly,” stammered Nancy, determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. “But, say, we better hurry. I’ve got ter get them dishes done, ye know.”

      “I’ll help,” promised Pollyanna, promptly.

      “Oh, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy.

      For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend’s arm.

      “I reckon I’m glad, after all, that you DID get scared—a little, ‘cause then you came after me,” she shivered.

      “Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I—I’m afraid you’ll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn’t like it—because you didn’t come down ter supper, ye know.”

      “But I couldn’t. I was up here.”

      “Yes; but—she didn’t know that, you see!” observed Nancy, dryly, stifling a chuckle. “I’m sorry about the bread and milk; I am, I am.”

      “Oh, I’m not. I’m glad.”

      “Glad! Why?”

      “Why, I like bread and milk, and I’d like to СКАЧАТЬ