Eleanor H. Porter

“ To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station and alighted to wait for the train.
Over and over in her mind she was saying it—"light hair, red-checked dress, straw hat." Over and over again, she was wondering just what sort of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.
"I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor bang doors," she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.
"Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us," grinned Timothy. ”

“ I never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt Polly rich, Nancy?"
"Yes, Miss."
"I'm so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never knew any one that did have, only the Whites—they're some rich. They have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have ice-cream Sundays?"
Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into Timothy's eyes.
"No, Miss. Your aunt don't like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never saw it on her table."
Pollyanna's face fell. ”

“ I'm only Nancy. I never thought of your takin' me for her. We—we ain't a bit alike—we ain't, we ain't!"
Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry flash from his eyes.
"But who are you?" questioned Pollyanna. "You don't look a bit like a Ladies' Aider!"
Timothy laughed outright this time.
"I'm Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washin' an' hard ironin'. Mis' Durgin does that."
"But there is an Aunt Polly?" demanded the child, anxiously.
"You bet your life there is," cut in Timothy. ”