al minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes fixed
on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly, she rose and
began to put away the dresses.

"There just isn't anything to be glad about, that I can see," she said
aloud; "unless--it's to be glad when the duty's done!" Whereupon she
laughed suddenly.

CHAPTER VII. POLLYANNA AND PUNISHMENTS

At half-past one o'clock Timothy drove Miss Polly and her niece to the
four or five principal dry goods stores, which were about half a mile
from the homestead.

Fitting Pollyanna with a new wardrobe proved to be more or less of an
exciting experience for all concerned. Miss Polly came out of it with
the feeling of limp relaxation that one might have at finding oneself at
last on solid earth after a perilous walk across the very thin crust of
a volcano. The various clerks who had waited upon the pair came out of
it with very red faces, and enough amusing stories of Pollyanna to
keep their friends in gales of laughter the rest of the week. Pollyanna
herself came out of it with radiant smiles and a heart content; for, as
she expressed it to one of the clerks: "When you haven't had anybody
but missionary barrels and Ladies' Aiders to dress you, it IS perfectly
lovely to just walk right in and buy clothes that are brand-new, and
that don't have to be tucked up or let down because they don't fit!"

The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper
and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy
on the back porch, after the dishes were done, and while Aunt Polly paid
a visit to a neighbor.

Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother, that made her
very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six
miles away at "The Corners," where lived her own dear mother, and her
equally dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that sometime, if
Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.

"And THEY'VE got lovely names, too. You'll like THEIR names," sighed
Nancy. "They're 'Algernon,' and 'Florabelle' and 'Estelle.' I--I just
hate 'Nancy'!"

"Oh, Nancy, what a dreadful thing to say! Why?"

"Because it isn't pretty like the others. You see, I was the first baby,
and mother hadn't begun ter read so many stories with the pretty names
in 'em, then."

"But I love 'Nancy,' just because it's you," declared Pollyanna.

"Humph! Well, I guess you could love 'Clarissa Mabelle' just