morning?"

The little girl dropped to her toes, and danced lightly up and
down.

"No, only when I love folks so I just can't help it! I saw you
from my window, Aunt Polly, and I got to thinking how you WEREN'T
a Ladies' Aider, and you were my really truly aunt; and you
looked so good I just had to come down and hug you!"

The bent old man turned his back suddenly. Miss Polly attempted a
frown--with not her usual success.

"Pollyanna, you--I Thomas, that will do for this morning. I think
you understand--about those rose-bushes," she said stiffly. Then
she turned and walked rapidly away.

"Do you always work in the garden, Mr.--Man?" asked Pollyanna,
interestedly.

The man turned. His lips were twitching, but his eyes looked
blurred as if with tears.

"Yes, Miss. I'm Old Tom, the gardener," he answered. Timidly, but
as if impelled by an irresistible force, he reached out a shaking
hand and let it rest for a moment on her bright hair. "You are so
like your mother, little Miss! I used ter know her when she was
even littler than you be. You see, I used ter work in the
garden--then."