Down the attic stairs sped Pollyanna, leaving both doors wide
open. Through the hall, down the next flight, then bang through
the front screened-door and around to the garden, she ran.
Aunt Polly, with the bent old man, was leaning over a rose-bush
when Pollyanna, gurgling with delight, flung herself upon her.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I reckon I am glad this morning just
to be alive!"
"PollyANNA!" remonstrated the lady, sternly, pulling herself as
erect as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds
hanging about her neck. "Is this the usual way you say good
morning?"
The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and
down.
"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you
from my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T
a Ladies' Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you
looked so good I just had to come down and hug you!"
The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
frown--with not her usual success.
"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning.
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