"JUST LIKE A BOOK"
"Thank you," said John Pendleton, gently.
After supper that evening, Pollyanna, sitting on the back porch, told Nancy all about Mr. John Pendleton's wonderful carved box, and the still more wonderful things it contained.
"And ter think," sighed Nancy, "that he showed ye all them things, and told ye about 'em like that—him that's so cross he never talks ter no one—no one!"
"Oh, but he isn't cross, Nancy, only outside," demurred Pollyanna, with quick loyalty. "I don't see why everybody thinks he's so bad, either. They wouldn't, if they knew him. But even Aunt Polly doesn't like him very well. She wouldn't send the jelly to him, you know, and she was so afraid he'd think she did send it!"
"Probably she didn't call him no duty," shrugged Nancy. "But what beats me is how he happened ter take ter you so, Miss Pollyanna—meanin' no offence ter you, of course—but he ain't the sort o' man what gen'rally takes ter kids; he ain't, he ain't."
Pollyanna smiled happily.
"But he did, Nancy," she nodded, "only I reckon even he didn't want to—all the time. Why, only to-day he owned up that one time he just felt he never wanted to see me again, because I reminded
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