It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into something like order. Pollyanna sewed, played the piano, read aloud, and studied cooking in the kitchen. But she had more time, also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all afternoon from two until six o’clock she could do everything she liked except the certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.

There were no children in the neighborhood of the Harrington homestead for Pollyanna to play with. This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.

“Oh, no, I don’t mind it at all,[40]” she explained to Nancy. “I’m happy just to walk around and see the streets and the houses and watch the people. I just love people.”

Almost every afternoon Pollyanna begged for “an errand to run,” so that she could be off for a walk in one direction or another; and it was on these walks that frequently she met the Man. To herself Pollyanna always called him “the Man,” no matter if she met a dozen other men the same day.

The Man often wore a long black coat and a high hat. His face was clean shaven and rather pale, and his hair, showing below his hat, was gray. He walked erect, and rather rapidly, and he was always alone, and Pollyanna felt sorry for him. Perhaps it was because of this that she one day spoke to him.

“How do you do, sir? Isn’t this a nice day?” she called cheerily, as she approached him.

The man stopped uncertainly.

“Did you speak – to me?” he asked in a sharp voice.

“Yes, sir, I say, it’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

“Eh? Oh! Humph![41]” he grunted; and strode on again.

Pollyanna laughed. He was such a funny man, she thought.

The next day she saw him again.

“It isn’t quite so nice as yesterday, but it’s pretty nice,” she called out cheerfully.

“Eh? Oh! Humph!” grunted the man as before; and once again Pollyanna laughed happily.

When for the third time Pollyanna accosted him in much the same manner, the man stopped.

“See here, child, who are you, and why are you speaking to me every day?”

“I’m Pollyanna Whittier, and I thought you looked lonesome. I’m so glad you stopped. Now we’re introduced – only I don’t know your name yet.”

“Well, of all the – ” The man did not finish his sentence, but strode on faster than ever.

Pollyanna looked after him disappointed.

“Maybe he didn’t understand – but that was only half an introduction. I don’t know HIS name, yet.” she murmured.

Pollyanna was carrying calf’s-foot jelly to Mrs. Snow today. Miss Polly Harrington always sent something to Mrs. Snow once a week. She said it was her duty, as Mrs. Snow was poor, sick, and a member of her church – it was the duty of all the church members to look out for her, of course. Miss Polly did her duty by Mrs. Snow usually on Thursday afternoons – not personally, but through Nancy. Today Pollyanna had begged the privilege, and Nancy had promptly given it to her in accordance with Miss Polly’s orders.[42]

“I’m glad that I won’t go to her,” Nancy declared to Pollyanna.

“But, why, Nancy?”

Nancy shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, it’s just that nothing whatever has happened, has happened right in Mis’ Snow’s eyes. If you bring her jelly you’ll certainly hear she wanted chicken – but if you DID bring her chicken,[43] she says she wanted lamb broth!”

“What a funny woman,” laughed Pollyanna. “I think I shall like to go to see her. She must be so surprising and – and different. I love DIFFERENT people.”