It was on the second Saturday afternoon that Pollyanna took her memorable walk. Heretofore Pollyanna had not walked out alone, except to go to and from school. That she would ever attempt to explore Boston streets by herself, never occurred to Mrs Carew, hence she naturally had never forbidden it. In Beldingsville, however, Pollyanna had found – especially at the first – her chief diversion in strolling about the rambling old village streets in search of new friends and new adventures.
On this particular Saturday afternoon Mrs Carew had said, as she often did say: “There, there, child, run away; please do. Go where you like and do what you like, only don’t, please, ask me any more questions today!”
Until now, left to herself, Pollyanna had always found plenty to interest her within the four walls of the house; for, if inanimate things failed, there were yet Mary, Jennie, Bridget, and Perkins. Today, however, Mary had a headache, Jennie was trimming a new hat, Bridget was making apple pies, and Perkins was nowhere to be found. Moreover it was a particularly beautiful September day, and nothing within the house was so alluring as the bright sunlight and balmy air outside. So outside Pollyanna went and dropped herself down on the steps.
For some time she watched in silence the well-dressed men, women, and children, who walked briskly by the house, or else sauntered more leisurely through the parkway that extended up and down the middle of the Avenue. Then she got to her feet, skipped down the steps, and stood looking, first to the right, then to the left.
Pollyanna had decided that she too would take a walk. It was a beautiful day for a walk, and not once, yet, had she taken one at all – not a real walk. Just going to and from school did not count. So she would take one today. Mrs Carew would not mind. Had she not told her to do just what she pleased so long as she asked no more questions? And there was the whole long afternoon before her. Only think what a lot one might see in a whole long afternoon! And it really was such a beautiful day. She would go – this way! And with a little whirr and skip of pure joy, Pollyanna turned and walked blithely down the Avenue.
Into the eyes of those she met Pollyanna smiled joyously. She was disappointed – but not surprised – that she received no answering smile in return. She was used to that now – in Boston. She still smiled, however, hopefully: there might be some one, sometime, who would smile back.
Mrs Carew’s home was very near the beginning of Commonwealth Avenue, so it was not long before Pollyanna found herself at the edge of a street crossing her way at right angles. Across the street, in all its autumn glory, lay what to Pollyanna was the most beautiful “yard” she had ever seen – the Boston Public Garden.
For a moment Pollyanna hesitated, her eyes longingly fixed on the wealth of beauty before her. That it was the private grounds of some rich man or woman, she did not for a moment doubt. Once, with Dr Ames at the Sanatorium, she had been taken to call on a lady who lived in a beautiful house surrounded by just such walks and trees and flower-beds as these.
Pollyanna wanted now very much to cross the street and walk in those grounds, but she doubted if she had the right. To be sure, others were there, moving about, she could see; but they might be invited guests, of course. After she had seen two women, one man, and a little girl unhesitatingly enter the gate and walk briskly down the path, however, Pollyanna concluded that she too might go. Watching her chance, she skipped nimbly across the street and entered the Garden.
It was even more beautiful close at hand than it had been at a distance. Birds twittered over her head, and a squirrel leaped across the path ahead of her. On benches here and there sat men, women, and children. Through the trees flashed the sparkle of the sun on water; and from somewhere came the shouts of children and the sound of music.
Once again Pollyanna hesitated; then, a little timidly, she accosted a handsomely dressed young woman coming towards her.
“Please, is this – a party?” she asked.
The young woman stared.
“A party!” she repeated dazedly.
“Yes’m. I mean, is it all right for me – to be here?”
“For you to be here? Why, of course. It’s for – for everybody!” exclaimed the young woman.
“Oh, that’s all right, then. I’m glad I came,” beamed Pollyanna.
The young woman said nothing; but she turned back and looked at Pollyanaa still dazedly as she hurried away.
Pollyanna, not at all surprised that the owner of this beautiful place should be so generous as to give a party to everybody, continued on her way. At the turn of the path she came upon a small girl and a doll-carriage. She stopped with a glad little cry, but she had not said a dozen words before from somewhere came a young woman with hurrying steps and a disapproving voice; a young woman who held out her hand to the small girl, and said sharply: