Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,
Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now,
And nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now,
And nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 6 It was nearly 7 o'clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her arrival.
Her windows faced the south and the west,
So she could not see the sun yet,
But she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky and she knew the day promised to be a fair one.
The little room was cooler now and the air blew in fresh and sweet.
Outside the birds were twittering joyously and Pollyanna flew to the window to talk to them.
She saw then that down in the garden her aunt was already out among the rose bushes.
With rapid fingers,
Therefore,
She made herself ready to join her.
Down the attic stairs she sped,
Leaving both doors wide open.
Through the hall,
Down the next flight,
Then bang through the front screen door and around to the garden she ran.
Aunt Polly,
With a bent old man,
Was leaning over a rose bush when Pollyanna,
Gurgling with delight,
Flung herself upon her.
Oh,
Aunt Polly,
Aunt Polly,
I reckon I'm glad this morning just to be alive.
Pollyanna,
Remonstrated the lady sternly,
Pulling herself as erect as she could with a dragging weight of ninety pounds hanging about her neck.
Is this the usual way you say good morning?
The little girl dropped to her toes and danced lightly up and down.
No,
Only when I love folks,
So I just can't help it.
I saw you from my window,
Aunt Polly,
And I got to thinking how you weren't a lady's aider and you were my really,
Truly aunt,
And you looked so good I just had to come down and hug you.
The bent old man turned his back suddenly.
Miss Polly attempted a frown,
With not her usual success.
Pollyanna,
You!
I,
Thomas,
Will do that for the morning.
I think you understand about those rose bushes,
She said stiffly.
Then she turned and walked rapidly away.
Do you always work in the garden,
Mr.
Man?
Asked Pollyanna interestedly.
The man turned.
His lips were twitching,
But his eyes looked blurred as if with tears.
Yes,
Miss,
I'm old Tom,
The gardener,
He answered,
Timidly,
But as if impelled by an irresistible force,
He reached out a shaking hand and let it rest for a moment on her bright hair.
You're so like your mother,
Little miss.
I used to know her when she was even littler than you be.
You see,
I used to work in the garden then.
Pollyanna caught her breath audibly.
You did?
And you knew my mother,
Really,
When she was just a little earth angel,
Not a heaven one?
Oh,
Please,
Tell me about her.
And down plumped Pollyanna in the middle of the dirt path by the old man's side.
A bell sounded from the house.
The next moment Nancy was seen flying out the back door.
Miss Pollyanna,
That bell means breakfast mornings,
She began,
Panting and pulling the little girl to her feet.
Other times it means other meals,
But it always means you're in to run like time when you hear it,
No matter where you be.
If you don't,
It'll take something smarter than we'll be to find anything to be glad for about in that,
She finished,
Shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
Breakfast for the first five minutes was a silent meal.
Then Miss Polly,
Her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here and there over the table,
Said sternly,
Nancy,
Where did those flies come from?
I don't know,
Ma'am,
There wasn't one in the kitchen.
Nancy had been too excited to notice Pollyanna's upflung windows the afternoon before.
I reckon they're my flies,
Aunt Polly,
Observed Pollyanna amiably.
There were lots of them this morning,
Having a beautiful time upstairs.
Nancy left the room precipitately,
Though to do so she had to carry out the hot muffins she had just brought in.
Yours?
Gasped Miss Polly.
What do you mean?
Where did they come from?
Why,
Aunt Polly,
They came from out of doors,
Of course,
Through the window.
I saw some of them come in.
You saw them?
You mean you raised those windows without any screens?
Why,
Yes,
There weren't any screens there,
Aunt Polly.
Nancy at this moment came in again with the muffins.
Her face was grey,
But very red.
Nancy,
Directed her mistress sharply,
You may set the muffins down and go at once to Miss Pollyanna's room and shut the windows.
Shut the doors also.
Later,
When your morning work's done,
Go through every room with a spatter.
See you make a thorough search.
To her niece she said,
Pollyanna,
I've ordered screens for those windows.
I knew,
Of course,
It was my duty to do that,
But it seems to me you have quite forgotten your duty.
My duty?
Pollyanna's eyes were wide with wonder.
Certainly,
I know it's warm,
But I consider it your duty to keep your windows closed till those screens come.
Flies,
Pollyanna,
Are not only unclean and annoying,
But very dangerous to health.
After breakfast I will give you a little pamphlet on this matter to read.
To read?
Oh,
Thank you,
Aunt Polly,
I love to read.
Miss Polly drew in her breath audibly,
Then she shut her lips together hard.
Pollyanna,
Seeing her stern face,
Frowned a little thoughtfully.
Of course,
I'm sorry about the duty I forgot,
Aunt Polly.
She apologised timidly.
I won't race the windows again.
Her aunt made no reply.
She did not speak indeed until the meal was over.
Then she rose,
Went to the bookcase in the sitting room,
Took out a small paper booklet and crossed the room to her niece's side.
This is the article I spoke of,
Pollyanna.
I desire you to go to your room at once and look over it.
Pollyanna,
Her eyes on the illustration of a fly's head,
Many times magnified,
Cried,
Oh,
Thank you,
Aunt Polly.
The next moment she skipped merrily from the room,
Banging the door behind her.
Miss Polly frowned,
Hesitated,
Then crossed the room majestically and opened the door.
But Pollyanna was already out of sight,
Clattering up the attic stairs.
Half an hour later,
When Miss Polly,
Her face expressing stern duty in every line,
Climbed those stairs and entered Pollyanna's room,
She was greeted with a burst of eager enthusiasm.
Oh,
Aunt Polly,
I never saw anything so perfectly lovely and interesting in my life.
I'm glad you gave me that book to read.
Why,
I didn't suppose flies could carry such a lot of things on their feet.
That will do,
Observed Aunt Polly with dignity.
Pollyanna,
You may bring out your clothes now and I will look them over.
What are not suitable for you,
I shall give to the Sullivans,
Of course.
With visible reluctance,
Pollyanna laid down the pamphlet and turned towards the closet.
I'm afraid you'll think they're worse than the ladies they did.
And they said they were shameful,
She sighed.
But they were mostly things for boys and older folks in the last two or three barrels.
Did you ever have a missionary barrel,
Aunt Polly?
At her aunt's look of shocked anger,
Pollyanna corrected herself.
Why,
No,
Of course you didn't,
She hurried on with a hot blush.
I forgot,
Rich folks never have to have them.
But,
You see,
Sometimes I kind of forget you're rich up here in this room,
You know.
Miss Polly's lips parted indignantly,
But no words came.
Pollyanna,
Plainly unaware she had said anything in the least unpleasant,
Went hurrying on.
Well,
As I was going to say,
You can't tell a thing about missionary barrels except you won't find them in what you think you're going to,
Even when you think you won't.
It was the barrels every time,
Too,
That were the hardest to play the game on.
For father and.
.
.
Just in time,
Pollyanna remembered she was not to talk of her father.
She dived into her closet then hurriedly and brought out all the poor little dresses in both her arms.
They aren't nice at all,
She choked,
And they'd be black if it wasn't for the red carpet for the church,
But they're all I've got.
With the tips of her fingers Miss Polly turned over the garments,
So obviously made for anybody but Pollyanna.
Next she bestowed frowning attention on the patched undergarments in the bureau drawers.
I've got the best ones on,
Confessed Pollyanna anxiously.
The ladies' aide bought me one set straight through,
All whole.
But Miss Polly did not seem to hear.
Her scrutiny of the undergarments finished,
She turned to Pollyanna somewhat abruptly.
You have been to school,
Of course,
Pollyanna.
Oh yes,
Aunt Polly.
Besides,
Father,
I mean,
I was taught at home some,
Too.
Miss Polly frowned.
Very good.
In the fall you will enter school here,
Of course.
Mr Hall,
The principal,
Will doubtless settle in which grade you belong.
Meanwhile,
I suppose I ought to hear you read aloud half an hour each day.
I love to read.
But if you don't want to hear me,
I'd be glad to read to myself,
Truly,
Aunt Polly.
And I wouldn't have to half try to be glad either,
For I like best to read to myself on account of the big words,
You know.
I don't doubt it,
Rejoined Miss Polly grimly.
Have you studied music?
Not much.
I don't like my music.
I like other people's,
Though.
I learnt to play on the piano a little.
Miss Grey,
She plays for church,
She taught me.
But I just as soon as let that go as not,
Aunt Polly,
I'd rather truly.
Very likely,
Observed Aunt Polly with slightly uplifted eyebrows.
Nevertheless,
I think it's my duty to see you're properly instructed in at least the rudiments of music.
You so,
Of course.
Yes,
Ma'am,
Pollyanna sighed.
The lady's aide taught me that,
But I had an awful time.
Mrs Jones didn't believe in holding your needle like the rest of them did on button-holding.
And Mrs White thought back-stitching ought to be taught before you did hemming.
Or the other way round.
And Mrs Harriman didn't believe in putting on patchwork ever at all.
Well,
There will be no difficulty of that kind any longer.
I shall teach you sewing myself,
Of course,
Said Miss Polly.
You do not know how to cook,
I presume.
Pollyanna laughed suddenly.
They were just beginning to teach me this summer,
But I hadn't got far.
They were more divided up on that than they were on the sewing.
They were going to begin on bread,
But there wasn't two of them that made it alike.
So after arguing in all one sewing meeting,
They decided to take turns at me one forenoon a week in their own kitchens,
You know.
I only learned chocolate fudge and fig cake.
Though when I had to stop,
Her voice broke.
Chocolate fudge and fig cake,
Indeed,
Scorned Miss Polly.
I think we can remedy that very soon.
She paused in thought for a moment,
Then went on slowly.
At nine o'clock every morning,
You will read aloud one half hour.
Before that,
You will use the time to put this room in order.
Wednesday and Saturday forenoons,
After half past nine,
You will spend with Nancy in the kitchen learning to cook.
Other mornings,
You will sew with me.
That will leave the afternoons for your music.
I shall,
Of course,
Procure a teacher at once.
She rose from her chair,
And Pollyanna cried out in dismay.
But Aunt Polly,
Aunt Polly,
You haven't left me any time just to live.
To live,
Child?
What do you mean?
As if you weren't living all the time.
Of course I'd be breathing all the time I was doing those things,
Aunt Polly,
But I wouldn't be living.
You breathe all the time you're asleep,
But you aren't living,
Are you?
I mean living,
Doing the things you want to do.
Playing outdoors,
Reading,
Climbing hills,
Talking to Mr Tom in the garden and Nancy,
And finding out all about the houses and the people and everything everywhere,
All through the perfect lovely streets I came through yesterday.
That's what I call living,
Aunt Polly.
Just breathing?
Well,
That's not living,
Is it?
