You shouldn't have a wish ungratified.
All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy."
Pollyanna looked shocked.
"Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I'd let you spend it on me--all that
money you've saved for the heathen!"
A dull red came to the man's face. He started to speak, but
Pollyanna was still talking.
"Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesn't
need me to make you glad about things. You're making other folks
so glad giving them things that you just can't help being glad
yourself! Why, look at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me,
and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her birthday, and--"
"Yes, yes--never mind about all that," interrupted the man. His
face was very, very red now--and no wonder, perhaps: it was not
for "giving things" that John Pendleton had been best known in
the past. "That's all nonsense. 'Twasn't much, anyhow--but what
there was, was because of you. YOU gave those things; not I! Yes,
you did," he repeated, in answer to the shocked denial in her
face.
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