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Happy listening.
Chapter 9,
Which tells of the man.
It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the man.
She greeted him,
However,
With a bright smile.
It isn't so nice today,
Is it?
She called blithesomely.
I'm glad it doesn't rain always,
Anyhow.
The man did not even grunt this time,
Nor turn his head.
Pollyanna decided that of course he did not hear her,
So the next time she spoke louder.
She thought it particularly necessary to do this anyway,
For the man was striding along,
His hands behind his back.
And his eyes were on the ground,
Which seemed to Pollyanna preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the freshly washed morning air.
How do you do?
She chirped.
I'm so glad it isn't yesterday.
Aren't you?
The man stopped abruptly.
There was an angry scowl on his face.
See here,
Little girl,
We might as well just settle this thing right now,
Once and for all.
I've got something besides the weather to think of,
And I don't know whether the sun shines or not.
Pollyanna beamed joyously.
No,
Sir,
I thought you didn't.
That's why I told you.
Yes,
Well.
Eh?
What?
The man broke off sharply in sudden understanding of her words.
I say that's why I told you,
So you wouldn't notice it.
Well,
You wouldn't.
The sun was shining and all that.
I knew you'd be glad if you did.
But you only stopped to think of it,
And you didn't look a bit as if you were thinking of it.
Well,
Of all the.
.
.
Ejaculated the man with an oddly impotent gesture.
He started forward again,
But after the second step he turned back,
Still frowning.
See here,
Why don't you find someone your own age to talk to?
I'd like to,
Sir,
But there aren't any about here,
Nancy says.
Still,
I don't mind so very much.
I like old folks just as well,
Maybe better sometimes.
Being used to the ladies' aid,
So.
The ladies' aid,
Indeed.
Is that what you took me for?
The man's lips were threatening to smile,
But the scowl above them was still trying to hold them grimly stern.
Pollyanna laughed gleefully.
No,
Sir,
You don't look a mite like a ladies' aider.
Not that you're not just as good,
Of course,
Maybe even better.
You see,
I'm sure you're much nicer than you look.
The man made a queer noise in his throat.
Well,
Of all the.
.
.
He turned and strode on as before.
The next time Pollyanna met the man,
His eyes were gazing straight into hers with a quizzical directness that made his face look really pleasant,
She thought.
Good afternoon.
He greeted her a little stiffly.
Perhaps I'd better say right away,
I know the sun is shining today.
But you don't have to tell me,
Nodded Pollyanna brightly.
I knew you did,
Just as soon as I saw you.
Oh,
You did,
Did you?
Yes,
Sir,
I saw it in your eyes,
You know,
And in your smile.
Phew,
Grunted the man,
And he passed on again.
This was a great surprise to Nancy,
Who chanced to be with Pollyanna one day when the greeting was given.
Sakes alive,
Miss Pollyanna,
She gasped.
Did that man speak to you?
Yes,
He always does now,
Smiled Pollyanna.
He always does?
Goodness,
Do you know who he is?
Pollyanna frowned and shook her head.
I reckon he forgot to tell me one day.
You see,
I did my part of the introducing,
But he really didn't.
Nancy's eyes widened.
But he never speaks to anyone,
Child,
He ain't for years.
I guess except when he has to,
I suppose,
For business and all that.
That man is John Pendleton.
He lives all by himself in the big house on Pendleton Hill.
He won't even have anyone round to cook for him.
He comes down to the hotel for his meals three times a day.
I know Sally Miner waits on him and she says he hardly opens his head enough to tell her what he wants to eat.
She has to guess it more than half the time.
Only it better be something cheap.
She knows that without no telling.
Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.
I know,
You have to look out for cheap things when you're poor.
Father and I took meals out a lot.
We had beans and fish balls most generally.
We used to say how glad we were that we liked beans.
We said it especially when we were looking at the roast turkey,
You know.
But that was sixty cents.
Does Mr Pendleton like beans?
Like them?
What if he does or don't?
Why,
Miss Pollyanna,
He ain't poor.
He's got loads of money.
From his father.
There ain't no one in the town as rich as John Pendleton is.
He could eat dollar bills if he wanted to and not know it.
Pollyanna giggled.
As if anybody could eat dollar bills and not know it,
Nancy,
When they come to try and chew them.
Nah,
I mean he's rich enough to do it.
He ain't spending his money,
That's all.
He's a saving of it.
Oh,
For the heathen,
Surmised Pollyanna.
How perfectly splendid.
That's denying yourself and taking up your cross.
I know.
Father told me.
Nancy's lips parted abruptly,
As if there were angry words all ready to come.
But her eyes,
Resting on Pollyanna's jubilantly trustful face,
Saw something that prevented the words being spoken.
Hmm,
She vouchsafed.
Then,
Showing her all-time interest,
She went on.
But say,
It is queer he's speaking to you.
Honestly,
Miss Pollyanna,
He don't speak to no one.
He lives all alone in the great big lovely house,
All full of just grand things they say.
Some says he's crazy,
Some just cross.
And some says he's got a skeleton in his closet.
Oh,
Nancy,
Shouted Pollyanna.
How could he keep such a dreadful thing?
I should think he'd thrown it away.
Nancy chuckled.
That Pollyanna had taken the skeleton literally instead of figuratively,
She knew very well.
But perversely,
She refrained from correcting the mistake.
And everyone says he's very mysterious,
She went on.
Some years,
He just travels,
Week in and week out.
It's always in even countries as well.
Egypt and Asia and the desert of Sarah,
You know.
Oh,
Maybe he's a missionary,
Nodded Pollyanna.
Nancy laughed oddly.
Well,
I didn't say that,
Miss Pollyanna.
When he comes back,
He writes books.
Queer odd books,
They say,
About some gimcrack he's found in them even countries.
But he don't never seem to want to spend no money there.
This way he's not for just living.
Of course not if he's saving it for the heathen,
Declared Pollyanna.
But he is a funny man.
And he's different,
You know,
Just like Mrs.
Snow.
Only he's a different kind of different.
Well,
I guess he is rather,
Chuckled Nancy.
I'm much gladder now,
Though,
Since he speaks to me,
Sighed Pollyanna contentedly.
He's a nice old man,
And I bet we can be good friends.
