more. I just love your hair fluffed out like that," she finished
with a satisfied gaze. "Don't you?"

"Hm-m; maybe. Still--'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth
on the pillow as I do."

"Of course not--and I'm glad, too," nodded Pollyanna, cheerfully,
"because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be
glad it's black--black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than
yellow hair like mine does."

"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair--shows gray
too soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still
held the mirror before her face.

"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it,"
sighed Pollyanna.

Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.

"Well, you wouldn't!--not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad
for black hair nor anything else--if you had to lie here all day
as I do!"

Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.

"Why, 'twould be kind of hard--to do it then, wouldn't it?" she
mused aloud.

"Do what?"