Поллианна
The Game and its players
MissPollyspokesharply. Theseriesofpuzzling,disconcertingvisitsofthelastfewdays,culminatingastheyhadintheextraordinaryexperienceoftheafternoon,hadstrainedhernervestothesnappingpoint. NotsinceMissPollyanna’saccidenthadNancyheardhermistressspeaksosternly.
"Nancy,WILLyoutellmewhatthisabsurd‘game’isthatthewholetownseemstobebabblingabout? Andwhat,please,hasmyniecetodowithit? WHYdoeseverybody,fromMillySnowtoMrs.TomPayson,sendwordtoherthatthey’re‘playingit’? AsnearasIcanjudge,halfthetownareputtingonblueribbons,orstoppingfamilyquarrels,orlearningtolikesomethingtheyneverlikedbefore,andallbecauseofPollyanna. Itriedtoaskthechildherselfaboutit,butIcan’tseemtomakemuchheadway,andofcourseIdon’tliketoworryher—now. ButfromsomethingIheardhersaytoyoulastnight,Ishouldjudgeyouwereoneofthem,too. NowWILLyoutellmewhatitallmeans?"
ToMissPolly’ssurpriseanddismay,Nancyburstintotears.
"ItmeansthateversincelastJunethatblessedchildhasjestbeenmakin’thewholetownglad,an’nowthey’returnin’‘roundan’tryin’termakeheralittleglad,too."
"Gladofwhat?"
"Justglad! That’sthegame."
MissPollyactuallystampedherfoot.
"Thereyougolikealltherest,Nancy. Whatgame?"
Nancyliftedherchin. Shefacedhermistressandlookedhersquarelyintheeye.
