Eleanor H. Porter: Pollyanna

7. CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS (continued)

"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.

"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just as well," retorted Nancy, and it would be a heap happier for me. I think THAT name's just grand!"

Pollyanna laughed.

"Well, anyhow," she chuckled, "you can be glad it isn't 'Hephzibah.'

"Hephzibah!"

"Yes. Mrs. White's name is that. Her husband calls her 'Hep,' and she doesn't like it. She says when he calls out 'Hep--Hep!' she feels just as if the next minute he was going to yell 'Hurrah!' And she doesn't like to be hurrahed at."

Nancy's gloomy face relaxed into a broad smile.

"Well, if you don't beat the Dutch! Say, do you know?--I sha'n't never hear 'Nancy' now that I don't think o' that 'Hep--Hep!' and giggle. My, I guess I AM glad--" She stopped short and turned amazed eyes on the little girl. "Say, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean--was you playin' that 'ere game THEN--about my bein' glad I wa'n't named Hephzibah'?"

Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.

"Why, Nancy, that's so! I WAS playing the game--but that's one of the times I just did it without thinking, I reckon. You see, you DO, lots of times; you get so used to it--looking for something to be glad about, you know. And most generally there is something about everything that you can be glad about, if you keep hunting long enough to find it."

"Well, m-maybe," granted Nancy, with open doubt.

At half-past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. The screens had not yet come, and the close little room was like an oven. With longing eyes Pollyanna looked at the two fast-closed windows--but she did not raise them. She undressed, folded her clothes neatly, said her prayers, blew out her candle and climbed into bed.