CHAPTER IV

ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN “Be it ever so humbl-l-le, There’s no place like ho-o-o-me.” JIMMY sang the familiar lines in a shrill falsetto, with an artistic tremulo effect, and Pollyanna laughed till she dropped the tack-hammer and then—which was more serious—the box of tacks. She sat down on the brand-new rug to pick them up one by one, and threw a reproachful glance at Jimmy, who, picturesque in his shirt sleeves, had struck a dramatic pose on the top of the step-ladder. “Jimmy, you …