Поллианна / Pollyanna

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Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June morning. Nancy, who was washing dishes at the sink, looked up in surprise.

“Nancy!”

“Yes, ma’am.[1]” Nancy answered cheerfully, but she still continued to wipe a pitcher in her hand.

“Nancy, when I’m talking to you, I wish you to stop your work and listen to what I say.”

Nancy flushed. She set the pitcher down at once.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nancy said. She was wondering if she could ever please this woman. Nancy had never worked for anybody before;[2] but her mother was a widow with three younger children besides Nancy herself. So she was very pleased when she found a place in the kitchen of the great house on the hill. Nancy came from “The Corners,” six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington only as the mistress of the old Harrington homestead. That was two months before. She knew Miss Polly now as a stern woman who frowned if a knife clattered to the floor, or if a door banged.

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