"
"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray
too soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still
held the mirror before her face.
"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,"
sighed Pollyanna.
Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.
"Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad
for black hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day
as I do!"
Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.
"Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?" she
mused aloud.
"Do what?"
"Be glad about things."
"Be glad about things--when you're sick in bed all your days?
Well, I should say it would," retorted Mrs. Snow. "If you don't
think so, just tell me something to be glad about; that's all!"
To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, Pollyanna sprang to her feet
and clapped her hands.
"Oh, goody! That'll be a hard one--won't it? I've got to go, now,
but I'll think and think all the way home; and maybe the next
time I come I can tell it to you.
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