lose MY legs for a while?"

"Did you? Then you do know, some. But you've got yours again. I
hain't, you know," sighed the boy, the shadow in his eyes deepening.

"But you haven't told me yet about--the Jolly Book," prompted
Pollyanna, after a minute.

The boy stirred and laughed shamefacedly.

"Well, you see, it ain't much, after all, except to me. YOU wouldn't
see much in it. I started it a year ago. I was feelin' 'specially bad
that day. Nothin' was right. For a while I grumped it out, just
thinkin'; and then I picked up one of father's books and tried to
read. And the first thing I see was this: I learned it afterwards, so
I can say it now.

"'Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem;
There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground
But holds some joy, of silence or of sound.'

[Footnote: Blanchard. Lyric Offerings. Hidden Joys.]

"Well, I was mad. I wished I could put the guy that wrote that in my
place, and see what kind of joy he'd find in my 'leaves.' I was so mad
I made up my mind I'd prove he didn't know what he was talkin' about,
so I begun to hunt for 'em--the joys in my 'leaves,' you know. I took
a little old empty notebook that Jerry had given me, and I said to
myself that I'd write 'em down. Everythin' that had anythin' about it
that I liked I'd put down in the book. Then I'd just show how many