ingly out, she saw something else:
she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat tin roof of
Miss Polly's sun parlor built over the porte-cochere. The sight filled
her with longing. If only, now, she were out there!

Fearfully she looked behind her. Back there, somewhere, were her hot
little room and her still hotter bed; but between her and them lay a
horrid desert of blackness across which one must feel one's way with
outstretched, shrinking arms; while before her, out on the sun-parlor
roof, were the moonlight and the cool, sweet night air.

If only her bed were out there! And folks did sleep out of doors. Joel
Hartley at home, who was so sick with the consumption, HAD to sleep out
of doors.

Suddenly Pollyanna remembered that she had seen near this attic window
a row of long white bags hanging from nails. Nancy had said that
they contained the winter clothing, put away for the summer. A little
fearfully now, Pollyanna felt her way to these bags, selected a nice
fat soft one (it contained Miss Polly's sealskin coat) for a bed; and a
thinner one to be doubled up for a pillow, and still another (which was
so thin it seemed almost empty) for a covering. Thus equipped, Pollyanna
in high glee pattered to the moonlit window again, raised the sash,
stuffed her burden through to the roof below, then let herself down
after it, closing the window carefully behind her--Pollyanna had not
forgotten those flies with the marvellous feet that carried things.

How deliciously cool it was! Pollyanna quite danced up and down with
delight, drawing in long, full breaths of the refreshing air. The tin
roof under her feet crackled with little resounding snaps that Pollyanna
rather liked. She walked, indeed, two or three times back and forth from
end to end--it gave her such a pleasant sensation of airy space after
her hot little room; and the roof was so broad and flat that she had no
fear of falling off. Finally, with a sigh of content, she curled herself
up on the sealskin-coat mattress, arranged one bag for a pillow and the
other for a covering, and settled herself to sleep.

"I'm so glad now that the screens didn't come," she murmured, blinking
up at the stars; "else I couldn't have had this!"

Down-stairs in Miss Polly's room next the sun parlor, Miss Polly
herself was hurrying into dressing gown and slippers, her face white and
frightened. A minute before she had been telephoning in a shaking voice
to Timothy: