In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying particular attention to the corners. “I just wish I could dig out – the – corners -of-her-soul!” She muttered. “The idea of stickin’ that blessed child way up here in this hot little room – with no fire in the winter, too. And all this big house to choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed!” Snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached. For some time she worked in silence. Then she looked about the bare little room in disgust. “Well, it’s done my part, anyhow,” she sighed. “Poor little soul! A pretty place this is to put a homesick child!” She finished, going out and closing the door with a bang. “Oh!” She exclaimed, biting her lip. “Well, I don’t care. I hope she did hear the bang!” In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found Old Tom, who had pulled weeds and shoveled the paths about the place for many years. “Mr. Tom,” began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, “did you know a little girl was comin’ to live with Miss Polly?” Pollyanna