"Oh, thank you, Aunt Polly!" The next moment she skipped merrily
from the room, banging the door behind her.

Miss Polly frowned, hesitated, then crossed the room majestically
and opened the door; but Pollyanna was already out of sight,
clattering up the attic stairs.

Half an hour later when Miss Polly, her face expressing stern
duty in every line, climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's
room, she was greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.

"Oh, Aunt Polly, I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and
interesting in my life. I'm so glad you gave me that book to
read! Why, I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of
things on their feet, and--"

"That will do," observed Aunt Polly, with dignity. "Pollyanna,
you may bring out your clothes now, and I will look them over.
What are not suitable for you I shall give to the Sullivans, of
course."

With visible reluctance Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and
turned toward the closet.

"I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the Ladies' Aid
did--and THEY said they were shameful," she sighed. "But there
were mostly things for boys and older folks in the last two or
three barrels; and--did you ever have a missionary barrel, Aunt
Polly?"