"Very well, Pollyanna. I am gratified, of course, that they are
happy; but I trust that they are profitable, as well--otherwise I
should have failed signally in my duty."

Generally Pollyanna would answer this with a hug and a kiss--a
proceeding that was still always most disconcerting to Miss
Polly; but one day she spoke. It was during the sewing hour.

"Do you mean that it wouldn't be enough then, Aunt Polly, that
they should be just happy days?" she asked wistfully.

"That is what I mean, Pollyanna."

"They must be pro-fi-ta-ble as well?"

"Certainly."

"What is being pro-fi-ta-ble?"

"Why, it--it's just being profitable--having profit, something to
show for it, Pollyanna. What an extraordinary child you are!"

"Then just being glad isn't pro-fi-ta-ble?" questioned Pollyanna,
a little anxiously.

"Certainly not."

"O dear! Then you wouldn't like it, of course. I'm afraid, now,
you won't ever play the game, Aunt Polly."