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"
Do
I
like
--
Why
,
what
an
odd
question
!
Why
do
you
ask
that
,
my
dear
?
"
"
Nothing
--
only
the
way
you
looked
.
It
made
me
think
of
my
father
.
He
used
to
look
like
that
--
sometimes
.
"
"
Did
he
?
"
The
minister
's
voice
was
polite
,
but
his
eyes
had
gone
back
to
the
dried
leaf
on
the
ground
.
"
Yes
,
and
I
used
to
ask
him
just
as
I
did
you
if
he
was
glad
he
was
a
minister
.
"
The
man
under
the
tree
smiled
a
little
sadly
.
"
Well
--
what
did
he
say
?
"
"
Oh
,
he
always
said
he
was
,
of
course
,
but
'
most
always
he
said
,
too
,
that
he
would
n't
STAY
a
minister
a
minute
if
'
twas
n't
for
the
rejoicing
texts
.
"
"
The
--
WHAT
?
"
The
Rev.
Paul
Ford
's
eyes
left
the
leaf
and
gazed
wonderingly
into
Pollyanna
's
merry
little
face
.
"
Well
,
that
's
what
father
used
to
call
'
em
,
"
she
laughed
.
"
Of
course
the
Bible
did
n't
name
'
em
that
.
But
it
's
all
those
that
begin
'
Be
glad
in
the
Lord
,
'
or
'
Rejoice
greatly
,
'
or
'
Shout
for
joy
,
'
and
all
that
,
you
know
--
such
a
lot
of
'
em
.
Once
,
when
father
felt
specially
bad
,
he
counted
'
em
.
There
were
eight
hundred
of
'
em
.
"
"
Eight
hundred
!
"
