Can folks have 'em when you don't know
they've got 'em? DO you suppose I could?--'fore I get to Heaven, I
mean," she cried, pulling out with eager fingers the straight locks
above her ears. "But then, they wouldn't be black, if they did come. You
can't hide the black part."

"Pollyanna, what does all this mean?" demanded Aunt Polly, hurriedly
removing her hat, and trying to smooth back her disordered hair.

"No, no--please, Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna's jubilant voice turned to one
of distressed appeal. "Don't smooth 'em out! It's those that I'm talking
about--those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they're so
pretty!"

"Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies' Aid the
other day in that absurd fashion about that beggar boy?"

"But it isn't nonsense," urged Pollyanna, answering only the first of
her aunt's remarks. "You don't know how pretty you look with your hair
like that! Oh, Aunt Polly, please, mayn't I do your hair like I did Mrs.
Snow's, and put in a flower? I'd so love to see you that way! Why, you'd
be ever so much prettier than she was!"

"Pollyanna!" (Miss Polly spoke very sharply--all the more sharply
because Pollyanna's words had given her an odd throb of joy: when before
had anybody cared how she, or her hair looked? When before had anybody
"loved" to see her "pretty"?) "Pollyanna, you did not answer my
question. Why did you go to the Ladies' Aid in that absurd fashion?"

"Yes'm, I know; but, please, I didn't know it was absurd until I went
and found out they'd rather see their report grow than Jimmy. So then
I wrote to MY Ladies' Aiders--'cause Jimmy is far away from them,
you know; and I thought maybe he could be their little India boy same
as--Aunt Polly, WAS I your little India girl? And, Aunt Polly, you WILL
let me do your hair, won't you?"

Aunt Polly put her hand to her throat--the old, helpless feeling was
upon her, she knew.

"But, Pollyanna, when the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to
them, I was so ashamed! I--"

Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.

"You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair," she crowed
triumphantly; "and so I'm sure it means just the other way 'round,
sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's jelly that you
didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't send, you know. Now
wait just where you are. I'll get a comb."

"But Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Aunt Polly, following