"But there are all these perfectly lovely things," faltered Pollyanna.

"I'm tired of them."

"And your automobile that will take you anywhere."

"I don't want to go anywhere."

Pollyanna quite gasped aloud.

"But think of the people and things you could see, Mrs. Carew."

"They would not interest me, Pollyanna."

Once again Pollyanna stared in amazement. The troubled frown on her
face deepened.

"But, Mrs. Carew, I don't see," she urged. "Always, before, there have
been BAD things for folks to play the game on, and the badder they are
the more fun 'tis to get them out--find the things to be glad for, I
mean. But where there AREN'T any bad things, I shouldn't know how to
play the game myself."

There was no answer for a time. Mrs. Carew sat with her eyes out the
window. Gradually the angry rebellion on her face changed to a look of
hopeless sadness. Very slowly then she turned and said:

"Pollyanna, I had thought I wouldn't tell you this; but I've decided
that I will. I'm going to tell you why nothing that I have can make
me--glad." And she began the story of Jamie, the little four-year-old