the things you want to do: playing outdoors, reading (to myself,
of course), climbing hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and
Nancy, and finding out all about the houses and the people and
everything everywhere all through the perfectly lovely streets I
came through yesterday. That's what I call living, Aunt Polly.
Just breathing isn't living!"

Miss Polly lifted her head irritably.

"Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be
allowed a proper amount of playtime, of course. But, surely, it
seems to me if I am willing to do my duty in seeing that you have
proper care and instruction, YOU ought to be willing to do yours
by seeing that that care and instruction are not ungratefully
wasted."

Pollyanna looked shocked.

"Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful--to YOU! Why, I
LOVE YOU--and you aren't even a Ladies' Aider; you're an aunt!"

"Very well; then see that you don't act ungrateful," vouchsafed
Miss Polly, as she turned toward the door.

She had gone halfway down the stairs when a small, unsteady voice
called after her:

"Please, Aunt Polly, you didn't tell me which of my things you
wanted to--to give away."