Pollyanna

A couple of years at the White House would turn Pollyanna into Machiavelli.

And she turned away—Miss Polly's arrangements for the comfort of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.

Pollyanna, standing at the bureau, gazed a little wistfully at the bare wall above.

At one of the windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her hands joyously.

The next moment the window was wide open, and Pollyanna was leaning far out, drinking in the fresh, sweet air.

Pollyanna had made a wonderful discovery—against this window a huge tree flung great branches.