"Oh, Aunt Polly," she triumphed, "just look a-here! I've got
something ever so much nicer, even, than Fluffy and Buffy for you
to bring up. It's a real live boy. He won't mind a bit sleeping
in the attic, at first, you know, and he says he'll work; but I
shall need him the most of the time to play with, I reckon."
Miss Polly grew white, then very red. She did not quite
understand; but she thought she understood enough.
"Pollyanna, what does this mean? Who is this dirty little boy?
Where did you find him?" she demanded sharply.
The "dirty little boy" fell back a step and looked toward the
door. Pollyanna laughed merrily.
"There, if I didn't forget to tell you his name! I'm as bad as
the Man. And he is dirty, too, isn't he?--I mean, the boy
is--just like Fluffy and Buffy were when you took them in. But I
reckon he'll improve all right by washing, just as they did,
and--Oh, I 'most forgot again," she broke off with a laugh. "This
is Jimmy Bean, Aunt Polly."
"Well, what is he doing here?"
"Why, Aunt Polly, I just told you!" Pollyanna's eyes were wide
with surprise.
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