"Perhaps they are--if they ever turn out to be nice at all," conceded
the man, a little gloomily.

"Yes, I think so," nodded Pollyanna, not noticing the gloom. "But
isn't it beautiful--here?" she gloried. "I wonder if Mrs. Carew knows
about it--that it's for anybody, so. Why, I should think everybody
would want to come here all the time, and just stay and look around."

The man's face hardened.

"Well, there are a few people in the world who have got a job--who've
got something to do besides just to come here and stay and look
around; but I don't happen to be one of them."

"Don't you? Then you can be glad for that, can't you?" sighed
Pollyanna, her eyes delightedly following a passing boat.

The man's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna was
still talking.

"I wish _I_ didn't have anything to do but that. I have to go to
school. Oh, I like school; but there's such a whole lot of things I
like better. Still I'm glad I CAN go to school. I'm 'specially glad
when I remember how last winter I didn't think I could ever go again.
You see, I lost my legs for a while--I mean, they didn't go; and you
know you never know how much you use things, till you don't have 'em.
And eyes, too. Did you ever think what a lot you do with eyes? I
didn't till I went to the Sanatorium. There was a lady there who had
just got blind the year before. I tried to get her to play the
game--finding something to be glad about, you know--but she said she