Поллианна
Just a matter of jelly
"Oh,that’sallright,then. I’mgladI’mExtraordinary,"sighedPollyanna,herfaceclearing. "Yousee,Mrs.WhiteusedtosayMrs.Rawsonwasaveryordinarywoman—andshedislikedMrs.Rawsonsomethingawful. Theywerealwaysfight—Imean,fatherhad—thatis,Imean,WEhadmoretroublekeepingpeacebetweenthemthanwedidbetweenanyoftherestoftheAiders,"correctedPollyanna,alittlebreathlessfromhereffortstosteerbetweentheScyllaofherfather’spastcommandsinregardtospeakingofchurchquarrels,andtheCharybdisofheraunt’spresentcommandsinregardtospeakingofherfather.
"Yes,yes;well,nevermind,"interposedAuntPolly,atrifleimpatiently. "Youdorunonso,Pollyanna,andnomatterwhatwe’retalkingaboutyoualwaysbringupatthoseLadies’Aiders!"
"Yes’m,"smiledPollyanna,cheerfully,"IreckonIdo,maybe. Butyouseetheyusedtobringmeup,and—"
"Thatwilldo,Pollyanna,"interruptedacoldvoice. "Nowwhatisitaboutthisjelly?"
"Nothing,AuntPolly,truly,thatyouwouldmind,I’msure. YouletmetakejellytoHER,soIthoughtyouwouldtoHIM—thisonce. Yousee,brokenlegsaren’tlike—likelifelonginvalids,sohiswon’tlastforeverasMrs.Snow’sdoes,andshecanhavealltherestofthethingsafterjustonceortwice."
"‘Him’?‘He’? ‘Brokenleg’? Whatareyoutalkingabout,Pollyanna?"
Pollyannastared; thenherfacerelaxed.
