moment she stepped from the railway train with her Aunt Polly and Dr.
Chilton. Nor did Pollyanna lose any time in starting on a round of
fly-away minute calls on all her old friends. Indeed, for the next few
days, according to Nancy, "There wasn't no putting of your finger on
her anywheres, for by the time you'd got your finger down she wa'n't
there."

And always, everywhere she went, Pollyanna met the question: "Well,
how did you like Boston?" Perhaps to no one did she answer this more
fully than she did to Mr. Pendleton. As was usually the case when this
question was put to her, she began her reply with a troubled frown.

"Oh, I liked it--I just loved it--some of it."

"But not all of it?" smiled Mr. Pendleton.

"No. There's parts of it--Oh, I was glad to be there," she explained
hastily. "I had a perfectly lovely time, and lots of things were so
queer and different, you know--like eating dinner at night instead of
noons, when you ought to eat it. But everybody was so good to me, and
I saw such a lot of wonderful things--Bunker Hill, and the Public
Garden, and the Seeing Boston autos, and miles of pictures and statues
and store-windows and streets that didn't have any end. And folks. I
never saw such a lot of folks."

"Well, I'm sure--I thought you liked folks," commented the man.

"I do." Pollyanna frowned again and pondered. "But what's the use of
such a lot of them if you don't know 'em? And Mrs. Carew wouldn't let
me. She didn't know 'em herself. She said folks didn't, down there."