The next day it was a dog, even dirtier and more forlorn,
perhaps, than was the kitten; and again Miss Polly, to her
dumfounded amazement, found herself figuring as a kind protector
and an angel of mercy--a role that Pollyanna so unhesitatingly
thrust upon her as a matter of course, that the woman--who
abhorred dogs even more than she did cats, if possible--found
herself as before, powerless to remonstrate.
When, in less than a week, however, Pollyanna brought home a
small, ragged boy, and confidently claimed the same protection
for him, Miss Polly did have something to say. It happened after
this wise.
On a pleasant Thursday morning Pollyanna had been taking
calf's-foot jelly again to Mrs. Snow. Mrs. Snow and Pollyanna
were the best of friends now. Their friendship had started from
the third visit Pollyanna had made, the one after she had told
Mrs. Snow of the game. Mrs. Snow herself was playing the game
now, with Pollyanna. To be sure, she was not playing it very
well--she had been sorry for everything for so long, that it was
not easy to be glad for anything now.
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