Which tells of the man

           ItrainedthenexttimePollyannasawtheMan. Shegreetedhim,however,withabrightsmile. 

           "Itisn’tsoniceto-day,isit?"shecalledblithesomely. "I’mgladitdoesn’trainalways,anyhow!" 

           Themandidnotevengruntthistime,norturnhishead. Pollyannadecidedthatofcoursehedidnothearher. Thenexttime,therefore(whichhappenedtobethefollowingday),shespokeuplouder. Shethoughtitparticularlynecessarytodothis,anyway,fortheManwasstridingalong,hishandsbehindhisback,andhiseyesontheground—whichseemed,toPollyanna,preposterousinthefaceoftheglorioussunshineandthefreshly-washedmorningair:Pollyanna,asaspecialtreat,wasonamorningerrandto-day. 

           "Howdoyoudo?"shechirped. "I’msogladitisn’tyesterday,aren’tyou?" 

           Themanstoppedabruptly. Therewasanangryscowlonhisface. 

           "Seehere,littlegirl,wemightjustaswellsettlethisthingrightnow,onceforall,"hebegantestily. "I’vegotsomethingbesidestheweathertothinkof. Idon’tknowwhetherthesunshinesornot." Pollyannabeamedjoyously. 

           "No,sir;Ithoughtyoudidn’t. That’swhyItoldyou." 

           "Yes;well—Eh?What?"hebrokeoffsharply,insuddenunderstandingofherwords. 

           "Isay,that’swhyItoldyou—soyouwouldnoticeit,youknow—thatthesunshines,andallthat. Iknewyou’dbegladitdidifyouonlystoppedtothinkofit—andyoudidn’tlookabitasifyouWEREthinkingofit!"