Perhaps
it was because of this that she one day spoke to him.
"How do you do, sir? Isn't this a nice day?" she called cheerily,
as she approached him.
The man threw a hurried glance about him, then stopped
uncertainly.
"Did you speak--to me?" he asked in a sharp voice.
"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I say, it's a nice day, isn't it?"
"Eh? Oh! Humph!" he grunted; and strode on again.
Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.
The next day she saw him again.
" 'Tisn't quite so nice as yesterday, but it's pretty nice," she
called out cheerfully.
"Eh? Oh! Humph!" grunted the man as before; and once again
Pollyanna laughed happily.
When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same
manner, the man stopped abruptly.
"See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me
every day?"
"I'm Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I'm
so glad you stopped. Now we're introduced--only I don't know your
name yet."
"Well, of all the--" The man did not finish his sentence, but
strode on faster than ever.
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