If ye don't--well, it'll take somethin' smarter'n we be ter find ANYTHIN' ter be glad about in that!" she finished, shooing Pollyanna into the house as she would shoo an unruly chicken into a coop.
Breakfast, for the first five minutes, was a silent meal; then Miss Polly, her disapproving eyes following the airy wings of two flies darting here and there over the table, said sternly: "Nancy, where did those flies come from ?" "I don't know, ma'am.

There wasn't one in the kitchen." Nancy had been too excited to notice Pollyanna's up-flung windows the afternoon before.
"I reckon maybe they're my flies, Aunt Polly," observed Pollyanna, amiably.

"There were lots of them this morning having a beautiful time upstairs." Nancy left the room precipitately, though to do so she had to carry out the hot muffins she had just brought in.
"Yours!" gasped Miss Polly.

"What do you mean?
Where did they come from ?" "Why, Aunt Polly, they came from out of doors of course, through the windows.

I SAW some of them come in." "You saw them! You mean you raised those windows without any screens ?" "Why, yes.