"Gee!" breathed the boy appreciatively, when she had finished. "Now
what do you think of that!"

"And here you are, playing MY game better than anybody I ever saw, and
I don't even know your name yet, nor anything!" exclaimed Pollyanna,
in almost awestruck tones. "But I want to;--I want to know
everything."

"Pooh! there's nothing to know," rejoined the boy, with a shrug.
"Besides, see, here's poor Sir Lancelot and all the rest, waiting for
their dinner," he finished.

"Dear me, so they are," sighed Pollyanna, glancing impatiently at the
fluttering and chattering creatures all about them. Recklessly she
turned her bag upside down and scattered her supplies to the four
winds. "There, now, that's done, and we can talk again," she rejoiced.
"And there's such a lot I want to know. First, please, what IS your
name? I only know it isn't 'Sir James.'"

The boy smiled.

"No, it isn't; but that's what Jerry 'most always calls me. Mumsey and
the rest call me 'Jamie.'"

"'JAMIE!'" Pollyanna caught her breath and held it suspended. A wild
hope had come to her eyes. It was followed almost instantly, however,
by fearful doubt.

"Does 'mumsey' mean--mother?"