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POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT "Hm-m; maybe. Still—'twon't last, with me tossing back and forth on the pillow as I do."

"Of course not—and I'm glad, too," nodded Pollyanna cheerfully, "because then I can fix it again. Anyhow, I should think you'd be glad it's black—black shows up so much nicer on a pillow than yellow hair like mine does."

"Maybe; but I never did set much store by black hair—shows gray too soon," retorted Mrs. Snow. She spoke fretfully, but she still held the mirror before her face.

"Oh, I love black hair! I should be so glad if I only had it," sighed Pollyanna.

Mrs. Snow dropped the mirror and turned irritably.

"Well, you wouldn't!—not if you were me. You wouldn't be glad for black hair nor anything else—if you had to lie here all day as I do!"

Pollyanna bent her brows in a thoughtful frown.

"Why, 'twould be kind of hard—to do it then, wouldn't it?" she mused aloud.

"Do what?"

"Be glad about things."

"Be glad about things—when you're sick in bed all your days? Well, I should say it would," retorted Mrs. Snow. "If you don't think so, just tell me something to be glad about; that's all!"

To Mrs. Snow's unbounded amazement, 75