Поллианна

           "Hurt?Oh,yes;I—Iran." Pollyanna’seyesweredazed. Sheliftedherhandtoherforehead. "Why,it’s—doneup,andit—hurts!" 

           "Yes,dear; butnevermind. Just—justrest." 

           "But,AuntPolly,Ifeelsofunny,andsobad! Mylegsfeelso—soqueer—onlytheydon’tFEEL—atall!" 

           Withanimploringlookintothenurse’sface,MissPollystruggledtoherfeet,andturnedaway. Thenursecameforwardquickly. 

           "Supposeyouletmetalktoyounow,"shebegancheerily. "I’msureIthinkit’shightimeweweregettingacquainted,andI’mgoingtointroducemyself. IamMissHunt,andI’vecometohelpyouraunttakecareofyou. AndtheveryfirstthingI’mgoingtodoistoaskyoutoswallowtheselittlewhitepillsforme." 

           Pollyanna’seyesgrewabitwild. 

           "ButIdon’twanttobetakencareof—thatis,notforlong! Iwanttogetup. YouknowIgotoschool. Can’tIgotoschoolto-morrow?" 

           FromthewindowwhereAuntPollystoodnowtherecameahalf-stifledcry. 

           "To-morrow?"smiledthenurse,brightly. 

           "Well,Imaynotletyououtquitesosoonasthat,MissPollyanna. Butjustswallowtheselittlepillsforme,please,andwe’llseewhatTHEY’LLdo." 

           "Allright,"agreedPollyanna,somewhatdoubtfully; "butIMUSTgotoschooldayafterto-morrow—thereareexaminationsthen,youknow." 

           Shespokeagain,aminutelater. Shespokeofschool,andoftheautomobile,andofhowherheadached; butverysoonhervoicetrailedintosilenceundertheblessedinfluenceofthelittlewhitepillsshehadswallowed.