Элинор Портер - Поллианна / Pollyanna

“What a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like to go to see her. She must be so surprising and – and different. I love DIFFERENT people.”

Pollyanna was thinking of Nancy’s remarks today as she turned in at the gate of the shabby little cottage.

A pale, tired-looking young girl answered her knock at the door.

“How do you do?” began Pollyanna politely. “I’m from Miss Polly Harrington, and I’d like to see Mrs. Snow, please.”

In the dark and gloomy sick-room, Polyanna saw a woman half-sitting up in the bed.

“How do you do, Mrs. Snow? Aunt Polly says she hopes you are comfortable today, and she sent you some calf’s-foot jelly.”

“Dear me! Jelly? Of course I’m very much obliged, but I hoped it would be lamb broth [44] I hoped it would be lamb broth – я надеялась, что сегодня будет говяжий бульон today.”

Pollyanna frowned a little.

“Why, I thought it was CHICKEN you wanted when folks brought you jelly,” she said.

“What?” The sick woman turned sharply.

“Why, nothing, much,” apologized Pollyanna, hurriedly; “and of course it doesn’t really make any difference. It’s only that Nancy said it was chicken you wanted when we brought jelly, and lamb broth when we brought chicken – but maybe it was the other way, [45] the other way – наоборот and Nancy forgot.”

“Well, Miss Impertinence, who are you?” she demanded.

Pollyanna laughed.

“Oh, THAT isn’t my name. I’m Pollyanna Whittier, Miss Polly Harrington’s niece, and I live with her now. That’s why I’m here with the jelly this morning.”

“Very well; thank you. Your aunt is very kind, of course, but my appetite isn’t very good this morning, and I was wanting lamb – ” She stopped suddenly.

“Here! Can you go to that window and pull up the curtain?” she asked. “I want to know what you look like!”

“O dear! then you’ll see my freckles, won’t you?” she sighed, as she went to the window; “I’m so glad you wanted to see me, because now I can see you! They didn’t tell me you were so pretty!”

“Me! – pretty!” scoffed the woman.

“Why, yes. Didn’t you know it?” cried Pollyanna.

“Well, no, I didn’t,” retorted Mrs. Snow.

“Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair’s all dark, too, and curly,” said Pollyanna. “I love black curls. Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I should think you’d know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.”

“Wait – just let me show you,” she exclaimed, picking up a small mirror.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to fix your hair [46] I’d like to fix your hair – я бы хотела уложить ваши волосы just a little before I let you see it,” she proposed.

“Why, I – suppose so, if you want to,” permitted Mrs. Snow.

For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly.

“There!” panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from a vase and tucking it into the dark hair. “ Now I reckon we’re ready to be looked at! [47] Now I reckon we’re ready to be looked at ! – А вот теперь мы полностью готовы! ” And she held out the mirror in triumph.

“Humph!” grunted the sick woman, looking at her reflection severely. “I like red pinks better than pink ones; but then, it’ll fade before night.”

“I just love your hair fluffed out like that,” she finished. “Don’t you?”

“ Hm-m; maybe. But it won’t last. [48] Hm-m; maybe. But it won’t last. – Ну, может быть. Но прическа не продержится долго. ”

“Of course not – and I’m glad, too,” nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully, “because then I can fix it again. Oh, I love black hair!”

“Well, you wouldn’t be glad for black hair nor anything else – if you had to lie here all day as I do!”

“Anyway, you must be glad about things.”

“Be glad about things – when you’re sick in bed all your days?!”

“That’s really hard really. But now I must go. I’ll think about it all the way home. Goodbye!”

“What does she mean by that?” Mrs. Snow thought. She turned her head and picked up the mirror.

“ That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake, [49] That little thing HAS got a knack with hair and no mistake. – А эта малышка точно умеет управляться с волосами! ” she said.

When a little later, Milly, Mrs. Snow’s daughter, came in, she said,

“I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress – instead of lamb broth, for a change!”

It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however, with a smile.

“How do you do?” she called.

The man stopped abruptly.

“See here, why don’t you find someone your own age to talk to?”

“I’d like to, sir, but there aren’t any around here. Still, I don’t mind so very much. I like old folks [50] old folks – зд. взрослые just as well, maybe better, sometimes – being used to the Ladies’ Aid, so.”

“Humph! The Ladies’ Aid, indeed! Is that what you took me for?”

Pollyanna laughed gleefully.

“Oh, no, sir. You don’t look like a Ladies’ Aider. Though I’m sure you’re much nicer than you look!”

The man turned and strode on as before.

The next time Pollyanna met the Man, he greeted her. The Man always spoke to Pollyanna after this, and frequently he spoke first, though usually he said just “good afternoon.” Even that was a great surprise to Nancy.

“Miss Pollyanna,” she gasped, “did that man SPEAK TO YOU?”

“Why, yes, he always does – now,” smiled Pollyanna.

“‘He always does’! Do you know who – he – is?” demanded Nancy.

Pollyanna frowned and shook her head. [51] shook her head – покачала головой

“I reckon he forgot to tell me one day.”

“But he never speaks to anybody, I guess, except when he speaks about business. He’s John Pendleton. He lives in the big house on Pendleton Hill. He is very rich. But he doesn’t spend money he just saves it. Usually he doesn’t speak to anyone; and he lives all alone in that great big lovely house all full of grand things, they say. Some people even think he’s crazy. And EVERYBODY says he’s mysterious.” She went on: “He travels a lot and writes books.”

“Oh, Nancy!” Pollyanna exclaimed. “He is a funny man, and he’s different, too, just like Mrs. Snow, only he’s a different differently.”

“Well, I guess he is,” chuckled Nancy.

“I’m so glad that he speaks to me,” sighed Pollyanna contentedly.

The next time Pollyanna went to see Mrs. Snow, she found that lady, as at first, in a darkened room.

“It’s the little girl from Miss Polly’s, mother,” announced Milly.

“Oh, it’s you?” asked a voice from the bed. I wish you had come yesterday.”

“Did you? Well, I’m glad,” Pollyanna entered the room and set her basket carefully down on a chair. “It’s so dark here! I can’t see you,” she cried. After that Pollyanna pulled up the shade. [52] pulled up the shade – подняла занавеску

Mrs. Snow turned her eyes toward the basket. “Well, what is it?”