He had pulled some papers from his pocket and unfolded them; but he was not looking at them.

He was gazing, instead, at a leaf on the ground a little distance away--and it was not even a pretty leaf.

It was brown and dead.
Pollyanna, looking at him, felt vaguely sorry for him.
"It--it's a nice day," she began hopefully.
For a moment there was no answer; then the minister looked up with a start.
"What?
Oh!--yes, it is a very nice day." "And 'tisn't cold at all, either, even if 'tis October," observed Pollyanna, still more hopefully.

"Mr.Pendleton had a fire, but he said he didn't need it.

It was just to look at.