CHAPTER VIII
JAMIE
Pollyanna did not see the boy "to-morrow." It rained, and she couldnot go to the Garden at all. It rained the next day, too. Even on thethird day she did not see him, for, though the sun came out bright andwarm, and though she went very early in the afternoon to the Gardenand waited long, he did not come at all. But on the fourth day he wasthere in his old place, and Pollyanna hastened forward with a joyousgreeting.
"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD to see you! But where've you been? You weren'there yesterday at all."
"I couldn't. The pain wouldn't let me come yesterday," explained thelad, who was looking very white.
"The PAIN! Oh, does it--ache?" stammered Pollyanna, all sympathy atonce.
"Oh, yes, always," nodded the boy, with a cheerfully matter-of-factair. "Most generally I can stand it and come here just the same,except when it gets TOO bad, same as 'twas yesterday. Then I can't."
"But how can you stand it--to have it ache--always?" gasped Pollyanna.
"Why, I have to," answered the boy, opening his eyes a little wider."Things that are so are SO, and they can't be any other way. So what'sthe use thinking how they might be? Besides, the harder it aches oneday, the nicer 'tis to have it let-up the next."
"I know! That's like the ga--" began Pollyanna; but the boyinterrupted her.
"Did you bring a lot this time?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, I hope youdid! You see I couldn't bring them any to-day. Jerry couldn't spareeven a penny for peanuts this morning and there wasn't really enoughstuff in the box for me this noon."
Pollyanna looked shocked.
"You mean--that you didn't have enough to eat--yourself?--for YOURluncheon?"
"Sure!" smiled the boy. "But don't worry. Tisn't the first time--and'twon't be the last. I'm used to it. Hi, there! here comes SirLancelot."
Pollyanna, however, was not thinking of squirrels.
"And wasn't there any more at home?"
"Oh, no, there's NEVER any left at home," laughed the boy. "You see,mumsey works out--stairs and washings--so she gets some of her feed inthem places, and Jerry picks his up where he can, except nights andmornings; he gets it with us then--if we've got any."
Pollyanna looked still more shocked.
"But what do you do when you don't have anything to eat?"
"Go hungry, of course."
"But I never HEARD of anybody who didn't have ANYTHING to eat," gaspedPollyanna. "Of course father and I were poor, and we had to eat beansand fish balls when we wanted turkey. But we had SOMETHING. Why don'tyou tell folks--all these folks everywhere, that live in these houses?"
"What's the use?"
"Why, they'd give you something, of course!"
The boy laughed once more, this time a little queerly.
"Guess again, kid. You've got another one coming. Nobody I know isdishin' out roast beef and frosted cakes for the askin'. Besides, ifyou didn't go hungry once in a while, you wouldn't know how good'taters and milk can taste; and you wouldn't have so much to put inyour Jolly Book."
"Your WHAT?"
The boy gave an embarrassed laugh and grew suddenly red.
"Forget it! I didn't think, for a minute, but you was mumsey orJerry."
"But what IS your Jolly Book?" pleaded Pollyanna. "Please tell me. Arethere knights and lords and ladies in that?"
The boy shook his head. His eyes lost their laughter and grew dark andfathomless.
"No; I wish't there was," he sighed wistfully. "But when you--youcan't even WALK, you can't fight battles and win trophies, and havefair ladies hand you your sword, and bestow upon you the goldenguerdon." A sudden fire came to the boy's eyes. His chin lifted itselfas if in response to a bugle call. Then, as suddenly, the fire died,and the boy fell back into his old listlessness.
"You just can't do nothin'," he resumed wearily, after a moment'ssilence. "You just have to sit and think; and times like that yourTHINK gets to be something awful. Mine did, anyhow. I wanted to go toschool and learn things--more things than just mumsey can teach me;and I thought of that. I wanted to run and play ball with the otherboys; and I thought of that. I wanted to go out and sell papers withJerry; and I thought of that. I didn't want to be taken care of all mylife; and I thought of that."
"I know, oh, I know," breathed Pollyanna, with shining eyes. "Didn't Ilose MY legs for a while?"
"Did you? Then you do know, some. But you've got yours again. Ihain't, you know," sighed the boy, the shadow in his eyes deepening.
"But you haven't told me yet about--the Jolly Book," promptedPollyanna, after a minute.
The boy stirred and laughed shamefacedly.
"Well, you see, it ain't much, after all, except to me. YOU wouldn'tsee much in it. I started it a year ago. I was feelin' 'specially badthat day. Nothin' was right. For a while I grumped it out, justthinkin'; and then I picked up one of father's books and tried toread. And the first thing I see was this: I learned it afterwards, soI can say it now.
"'Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem; There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground But holds some joy, of silence or of sound.'
[Footnote: Blanchard. Lyric Offerings. Hidden Joys.]
"Well, I was mad. I wished I could put the guy that wrote that in myplace, and see what kind of joy he'd find in my 'leaves.' I was so madI made up my mind I'd prove he didn't know what he was talkin' about,so I begun to hunt for 'em--the joys in my 'leaves,' you know. I tooka little old empty notebook that Jerry had given me, and I said tomyself that I'd write 'em down. Everythin' that had anythin' about itthat I liked I'd put down in the book. Then I'd just show how many'joys' I had."
"Yes, yes!" cried Pollyanna, absorbedly, as the boy paused for breath.
"Well, I didn't expect to get many, but--do you know?--I got a lot.There was somethin' about 'most everythin' that I liked a LITTLE, soin it had to go. The very first one was the book itself--that I'd gotit, you know, to write in. Then somebody give me a flower in a pot,and Jerry found a dandy book in the subway. After that it was reallyfun to hunt 'em out--I'd find 'em in such queer places, sometimes.Then one day Jerry got hold of the little notebook, and found out what'twas. Then he give it its name--the Jolly Book. And--and that's all."
"All--ALL!" cried Pollyanna, delight and amazement struggling for themastery on her glowing little face. "Why, that's the game! You'replaying the glad game, and don't know it--only you're playing it everand ever so much better than I ever could! Why, I--I couldn't play itat all, I'm afraid, if I--I didn't have enough to eat, and couldn'tever walk, or anything," she choked.
"The game? What game? I don't know anything about any game," frownedthe boy.
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
"I know you don't--I know you don't, and that's why it's so perfectlylovely, and so--so wonderful! But listen. I'll tell you what the gameis."
And she told him.
"Gee!" breathed the boy appreciatively, when she had finished. "Nowwhat do you think of that!"
"And here you are, playing MY game better than anybody I ever saw, andI don't even know your name yet, nor anything!" exclaimed Pollyanna,in almost awestruck tones. "But I want to;--I want to knoweverything."
"Pooh! there's nothing to know," rejoined the boy, with a shrug."Besides, see, here's poor Sir Lancelot and all the rest, waiting fortheir dinner," he finished.
"Dear me, so they are," sighed Pollyanna, glancing impatiently at thefluttering and chattering creatures all about them. Recklessly sheturned her bag upside down and scattered her supplies to the fourwinds. "There, now, that's done, and we can talk again," she rejoiced."And there's such a lot I want to know. First, please, what IS yourname? I only know it isn't 'Sir James.'"
The boy smiled.
"No, it isn't; but that's what Jerry 'most always calls me. Mumsey andthe rest call me 'Jamie.'"
"'JAMIE!'" Pollyanna caught her breath and held it suspended. A wildhope had come to her eyes. It was followed almost instantly, however,by fearful doubt.
"Does 'mumsey' mean--m
other?"
"Sure!"
Pollyanna relaxed visibly. Her face fell. If this Jamie had a mother,he could not, of course, be Mrs. Carew's Jamie, whose mother had diedlong ago. Still, even as he was, he was wonderfully interesting.
"But where do you live?" she catechized eagerly. "Is there anybodyelse in your family but your mother and--and Jerry? Do you always comehere every day? Where is your Jolly Book? Mayn't I see it? Don't thedoctors say you can ever walk again? And where was it you said you gotit?--this wheel chair, I mean."
The boy chuckled.
"Say, how many of them questions do you expect me to answer all atonce? I'll begin at the last one, anyhow, and work backwards, maybe,if I don't forget what they be. I got this chair a year ago. Jerryknew one of them fellers what writes for papers, you know, and he putit in about me--how I couldn't ever walk, and all that, and--and theJolly Book, you see. The first thing I knew, a whole lot of men andwomen come one day toting this chair, and said 'twas for me. Thatthey'd read all about me, and they wanted me to have it to rememberthem by."
"My! how glad you must have been!"
"I was. It took a whole page of my Jolly Book to tell about thatchair."
"But can't you EVER walk again?" Pollyanna's eyes were blurred withtears.
"It don't look like it. They said I couldn't."
"Oh, but that's what they said about me, and then they sent me to Dr.Ames, and I stayed 'most a year; and HE made me walk. Maybe he couldYOU!"
The boy shook his head.
"He couldn't--you see; I couldn't go to him, anyway. 'Twould cost toomuch. We'll just have to call it that I can't ever--walk again. Butnever mind." The boy threw back his head impatiently. "I'm trying notto THINK of that. You know what it is when--when your THINK gets togoing."
"Yes, yes, of course--and here I am talking about it!" criedPollyanna, penitently. "I SAID you knew how to play the game betterthan I did, now. But go on. You haven't told me half, yet. Where doyou live? And is Jerry all the brothers and sisters you've got?"
A swift change came to the boy's face. His eyes glowed.
"Yes--and he ain't mine, really. He ain't any relation, nor mumseyain't, neither. And only think how good they've been to me!"
"What's that?" questioned Pollyanna, instantly on the alert. "Isn'tthat--that 'mumsey' your mother at all?"
"No; and that's what makes--"
"And haven't you got any mother?" interrupted Pollyanna, in growingexcitement.
"No; I never remember any mother, and father died six years ago."
"How old were you?"
"I don't know. I was little. Mumsey says she guesses maybe I was aboutsix. That's when they took me, you see."
"And your name is Jamie?" Pollyanna was holding her breath.
"Why, yes, I told you that."
"And what's the other name?" Longingly, but fearfully, Pollyanna askedthis question.
"I don't know."
"YOU DON'T KNOW!"
"I don't remember. I was too little, I suppose. Even the Murphys don'tknow. They never knew me as anything but Jamie."
A great disappointment came to Pollyanna's face, but almostimmediately a flash of thought drove the shadow away.
"Well, anyhow, if you don't know what your name is, you can't know itisn't 'Kent'!" she exclaimed.
"'Kent'?" puzzled the boy.
"Yes," began Pollyanna, all excitement. "You see, there was a littleboy named Jamie Kent that--" She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. Ithad occurred to Pollyanna that it would be kinder not to let this boyknow yet of her hope that he might be the lost Jamie. It would bebetter that she make sure of it before raising any expectations,otherwise she might be bringing him sorrow rather than joy. She hadnot forgotten how disappointed Jimmy Bean had been when she had beenobliged to tell him that the Ladies' Aid did not want him, and againwhen at first Mr. Pendleton had not wanted him, either. She wasdetermined that she would not make the same mistake a third time; sovery promptly now she assumed an air of elaborate indifference on thismost dangerous subject, as she said:
"But never mind about Jamie Kent. Tell me about yourself. I'm SOinterested!"
"There isn't anything to tell. I don't know anything nice," hesitatedthe boy. "They said father was--was queer, and never talked. Theydidn't even know his name. Everybody called him 'The Professor.'Mumsey says he and I lived in a little back room on the top floor ofthe house in Lowell where they used to live. They were poor then, butthey wasn't near so poor as they are now. Jerry's father was alivethem days, and had a job."
"Yes, yes, go on," prompted Pollyanna.
"Well, mumsey says my father was sick a lot, and he got queerer andqueerer, so that they had me downstairs with them a good deal. I couldwalk then, a little, but my legs wasn't right. I played with Jerry,and the little girl that died. Well, when father died there wasn'tanybody to take me, and some men were goin' to put me in an orphanasylum; but mumsey says I took on so, and Jerry took on so, that theysaid they'd keep me. And they did. The little girl had just died, andthey said I might take her place. And they've had me ever since. And Ifell and got worse, and they're awful poor now, too, besides Jerry'sfather dyin'. But they've kept me. Now ain't that what you call bein'pretty good to a feller?"
"Yes, oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "But they'll get their reward--I knowthey'll get their reward!" Pollyanna was quivering with delight now.The last doubt had fled. She had found the lost Jamie. She was sure ofit. But not yet must she speak. First Mrs. Carew must see him.Then--THEN--! Even Pollyanna's imagination failed when it came topicturing the bliss in store for Mrs. Carew and Jamie at that gladreunion.
She sprang lightly to her feet in utter disregard of Sir Lancelot whohad come back and was nosing in her lap for more nuts.
"I've got to go now, but I'll come again to-morrow. Maybe I'll have alady with me that you'll like to know. You'll be here to-morrow, won'tyou?" she finished anxiously.
"Sure, if it's pleasant. Jerry totes me up here 'most every mornin'.They fixed it so he could, you know; and I bring my dinner and staytill four o'clock. Jerry's good to me--he is!"
"I know, I know," nodded Pollyanna. "And maybe you'll find somebodyelse to be good to you, too," she caroled. With which crypticstatement and a beaming smile, she was gone.