people don't care to know each other?" he asked quizzically.
"Oh, but some of them do," maintained Pollyanna, in eager defense. "Now there's Sadie Dean—she sells bows, lovely bows in a big store—she wants to know people; and I introduced her to Mrs. Carew, and we had her up to the house, and we had Jamie and lots of others there, too; and she was so glad to know them! And that's what made me think that if only a lot of Mrs. Carew's kind could know the other kind—but of course I couldn't do the introducing. I didn't know many of them myself, anyway. But if they could know each other, so that the rich people could give the poor people part of their money—"
But again Mr. Pendleton interrupted with a laugh.
"Oh, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," he chuckled; "I'm afraid you're getting into pretty deep water. You'll be a rabid little socialist before you know it."
"A—what?" questioned the little girl, dubiously. "I—I don't think I know what a socialist is. But I know what being sociable is—and I like folks that are that. If it's anything like that, I don't mind being one, a mite. I'd like to be one."
"I don't doubt it, Pollyanna," smiled the man. "But when it comes to this scheme of yours for the wholesale distribution of wealth—you've got a problem on your hands that you might have difficulty with."
Pollyanna drew a long sigh.
"I know," she nodded. "That's the way Mrs. Carew talked. She says I don't understand; that
