POLLYANNA
"Well, of all the—" The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on faster than ever.
Pollyanna looked after him with a disappointed droop to her usually smiling lips.
"Maybe he didn't understand—but that was only half an introduction. I don't know his name, yet," she murmured, as she proceeded on her way.
Pollyanna was carrying calf's-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow to-day. Miss Polly Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said she thought that it was her duty, inasmuch 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. To-day Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her in accordance with Miss Polly's orders.
"And it's glad that I am ter get rid of it," Nancy had declared in private afterwards to Pollyanna; "though it's a shame ter be tuckin' the job off on ter you, poor lamb, so it is, it is!"
"But I'd love to do it, Nancy."
"Well, you won't—after you've done it once," predicted Nancy, sourly.
"Why not?"
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