Maida's Little Shop, Page 2

  CHAPTER II: CLEANING UP

  The next two weeks were the busiest Maida ever knew.

  In the first place she must see Mrs. Murdock and talk things over.In the second place, she must examine all the stock that Mrs.Murdock left. In the third place, she must order new stock from thewholesale places. And in the fourth place, the rooms must be madeready for her and Granny to live in. It was hard work, but it wasgreat fun.

  First, Mrs. Murdock called, at Billy's request, at his rooms onMount Vernon Street. Granny and Maida were there to meet her.

  Mrs. Murdock was a tall, thin, erect old lady. Her bright black eyeswere piercing enough, but it seemed to Maida that the round-glassedspectacles, through which she examined them all, were even more so.

  "I've made out a list of things for the shop that I'm all out of,"she began briskly. "You'll know what the rest is from what's left onthe shelves. Now about buying--there's a wagon comes round once amonth and I've told them to keep right on a-coming even though Iain't there. They'll sell you your candy, pickles, pickled limes andall sich stuff. You'll have to buy your toys in Boston--your paper,pens, pencils, rubbers and the like also, but not at the same placeswhere you git the toys. I've put all the addresses down on the list.I don't see how you can make any mistakes."

  "How long will it take you to get out of the shop?" Billy asked.

  Maida knew that Billy enjoyed Mrs. Murdock, for often, when helooked at that lady, his eyes "skrinkled up," although there was nota smile on his face.

  "A week is all I need," Mrs. Murdock declared. "If it worn't forother folks who are keeping me waiting, I'd have that hull placefixed as clean as a whistle in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Now I'llput a price on everything, so's you won't be bothered what tocharge. There's some things I don't ever git, because folks buy toomany of them and it's sich an everlasting bother keeping them instock. But you're young and spry, and maybe you won't mind jumpingabout for every Tom, Dick and Harry. But, remember," she added inparting, "don't git expensive things. Folks in that neighborhoodain't got no money to fool away. Git as many things as you can for acent a-piece. Git some for five and less for ten and nothing forover a quarter. But you must allus callulate to buy some things tolose money on. I mean the truck you put in the window jess to makefolks look in. It gits dusty and fly-specked before you know it andthere's an end on it. I allus send them to the Home for LittleWanderers at Christmas time."

  Early one morning, a week later, a party of three--Granny Flynn,Billy and Maida--walked up Beacon Street and across the common to thesubway. Maida had never walked so far in her life. But her fatherhad told her that if she wanted to keep the shop, she must give upher carriage and her automobile. That was not hard. She was willingto give up anything that she owned for the little shop.

  They left the car at City Square in Charlestown and walked the restof the way. It was Saturday, a brilliant morning in a beautifulautumn. All the children in the neighborhood were out playing. Maidalooked at each one of them as she passed. They seemed as wonderfulas fairy beings to her--for would they not all be her customers soon?And yet, such was her excitement, she could not remember one faceafter she had passed it. A single picture remained in her mind--apicture of a little girl standing alone in the middle of the court.Black-haired, black-eyed, a vivid spot of color in a scarlet capeand a scarlet hat, the child was scattering bread-crumbs to a flockof pigeons. The pigeons did not seem afraid of her. They flew closeto her feet. One even alighted on her shoulder.

  "It makes me think of St. Mark's in Venice," Maida said to Billy.

  But, little girl--scarlet cape--flocks of doves--St. Mark's, all wentout of her head entirely when she unlocked the door of the littleshop.

  "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, "how nice and clean it looks!"

  The shop seemed even larger than she remembered it. The confused,dusty, cluttery look had gone. But with its dull paint and itsblackened ceiling, it still seemed dark and dingy.

  Maida ran behind the counter, peeped into the show cases, poked herhead into the window, drew out the drawers that lined the wall,pulled covers from the boxes on the shelves. There is no knowingwhere her investigations would have ended if Billy had not said:

  "See here, Miss Curiosity, we can't put in the whole morning on theshop. This is a preliminary tour of investigation. Come and see therest of it. This way to the living-room!"

  The living-room led from the shop--a big square room, empty now, ofcourse. Maida limped over to the window. "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried;"did you ever see such a darling little yard?"

  "It surely is little," Billy agreed, "not much bigger than a pockethandkerchief, is it?"

  And yet, scrap of a place as the yard was, it had an air ofcompleteness, a pretty quaintness. Two tiny brick walks curved fromthe door to the gate. On either side of these spread out microscopicflower-beds, crowded tight with plants. Late-blooming dahlias andasters made spots of starry color in the green. A vine, running overthe door to the second story, waved like a crimson banner droppedfrom the window.

  "The old lady must have been fond of flowers," Billy Potter said. Hesquinted his near-sighted blue eyes and studied the bunches ofgreen. "Syringa bush in one corner. Lilac bush in the other.Nasturtiums at the edges. Morning-glories running up the fence.Sunflowers in between. My, won't it be fun to see them all racing upin the spring!"

  Maida jumped up and down at the thought. She could not jump likeother children. Indeed, this was the first time that she had evertried. It was as if her feet were like flat-irons. Granny Flynnturned quickly away and Billy bit his lips.

  "I know just how I'm going to fix this room up for you, Petronilla,"Billy said, nodding his head mysteriously. "Now let's go into thekitchen."

  The kitchen led from the living-room. Billy exclaimed when he saw itand Maida shook her hands, but it was Granny who actually screamedwith delight.

  Much bigger than the living-room, it had four windows with sunshinepouring in through every one of them. But it was not the fourwindows nor yet the sunshine that made the sensation--it was thestone floor.

  "We'll put a carpet on it if you think it's too cold, Granny," Billysuggested immediately.

  "Oh, lave it be, Misther Billy," Granny begged. "'Tis loike me ouldhome in Oireland. Sure 'tis homesick Oi am this very minut lookingat ut."

  "All right," Billy agreed cheerfully. "What you say goes, Granny.Now upstairs to the sleeping-rooms."

  To get to the second floor they climbed a little stairway not morethan three feet wide, with steps very high, most of them triangularin shape because the stairway had to turn so often. Andupstairs--after they got there--consisted of three rooms, two big andsquare and light, and one smaller and darker.

  "The small room is to be made into a bathroom," Billy explained,"and these two big ones are to be your bedrooms. Which one will youhave, Maida?"

  Maida examined both rooms carefully. "Well, I don't care for myselfwhich I have," she said. "But it does seem as if there were ateeny-weeny more sun in this one. I think Granny ought to have it, forshe loves the sunshine on her old bones. You know, Billy, Granny and Ihave the greatest fun about our bones. Hers are all wrong becausethey're so old, and mine are all wrong because they're so young."

  "All right," Billy agreed. "Sunshiny one for Granny, shady one foryou. That's settled! I hope you realize, Miss Maida, Elizabeth,Fairfax, Petronilla, Pinkwink, Posie Westabrook what perfectly bullyrooms these are! They're as old as Noah."

  "I'm glad they're old," Maida said. "But of course they must be.This house was here when Dr. Pierce was a little boy. And that musthave been a long, long, long time ago."

  "Just look at the floors," Billy went on admiringly. "See how uneventhey are. You'll have to walk straight here, Petronilla, to keepfrom falling down. That old wooden wainscoting is simply charming.That's a nice old fireplace too. And these old doors are perfect."

  Granny Flynn was working the latch of one of the old doors with herwrinkled hands. "Manny's the toime Oi've snibbed a latch loike
thatin Oireland," she said, and she smiled so hard that her verywrinkles seemed to twinkle.

  "And look at the windows, Granny," Billy said. "Sixteen panes ofglass each. I hope you'll make Petronilla wash them."

  "Oh, Granny, will you let me wash the windows?" Maida askedecstatically.

  "When you're grand and sthrong," Granny promised.

  "I know just how I'll furnish the room," Billy said half to himself.

  "Oh, Billy, tell me!" Maida begged.

  "Can't," he protested mischievously. "You've got to wait till it'sall finished before you see hide or hair of it."

  "I know I'll die of curiosity," Maida protested. "But then of courseI shall be very busy with my own business."

  "Ah, yes," Billy replied. "Now that you've embarked on a mercantilecareer, Miss Westabrook, I think you'll find that you'll have lessand less time for the decorative side of life."

  Billy spoke so seriously that most little girls would have been awedby his manner. But Maida recognized the tone that he always employedwhen he was joking her. Beside, his eyes were all "skrinkled up."She did not quite understand what the joke was, but she smiled backat him.

  "Now can we look at the things downstairs?" she pleaded.

  "Yes," Billy assented. "To-day is a very important day. Behindlocked doors and sealed windows, we're going to take account ofstock."

  Granny Flynn remained in the bedrooms to make all kinds ofmysterious measurements, to open and shut doors, to examine closets,to try window-sashes, even to poke her head up the chimney.

  Downstairs, Billy and Maida opened boxes and boxes and boxes anddrawers and drawers and drawers. Every one of these had beencarefully gone over by the conscientious Mrs. Murdock. Two boxesbulged with toys, too broken or soiled to be of any use. These theythrew into the ash-barrel at once. What was left they dumped on thefloor. Maida and Billy sat down beside the heap and examined thethings, one by one. Maida had never seen such toys in her life--socheap and yet so amusing.

  It was hard work to keep to business with such enchanting temptationto play all about them. Billy insisted on spinning every top--he gotfive going at once--on blowing every balloon--he produced suchdreadful wails of agony that Granny came running downstairs in greatalarm--on jumping with every jump-rope--the short ones tripped him upand once he sprawled headlong--on playing jackstones--Maida beat himeasily at this--on playing marbles--with a piece of crayon he drew aring on the floor--on looking through all the books--he declared thathe was going to buy some little penny-pamphlet fairy-tales as soonas he could save the money. But in spite of all this fooling, theyreally accomplished a great deal.

  They found very few eatables--candy, fruit, or the like. Mrs. Murdockhad wisely sold out this perishable stock. One glass jar, however,was crammed full of what Billy recognized to be "bulls-eyes"--roundlumps of candy as big as plums and as hard as stones. Billy saidthat he loved bulls-eyes better than terrapin or broiled livelobster, that he had not tasted one since he was "half-past ten."For the rest of the day, one of his cheeks stuck out as if he hadthe toothache.

  They came across all kinds of odds and ends--lead pencils,blank-books, an old slate pencil wrapped in gold paper which Billyinsisted on using to draw pictures on a slate--he made this squeak sothat Maida clapped her hands over her ears. They found single piecesfrom sets of miniature furniture, a great many dolls, rag-dolls,china dolls, celluloid dolls, the latest bisque beauties, and twoold-fashioned waxen darlings whose features had all run togetherfrom being left in too great a heat.

  They went through all these things, sorting them into heaps whichthey afterwards placed in boxes. At noon, Billy went out and boughtlunch. Still squatting on the floor, the three of them atesandwiches and drank milk. Granny said that Maida had never eaten somuch at one meal.

  All this happened on Saturday. Maida did not see the little shopagain until it was finished.

  By Monday the place was as busy as a beehive. Men were putting in afurnace, putting in a telephone, putting in a bathroom, whiteningthe plaster, painting the woodwork.

  Finally came two days of waiting for the paint to dry. "Will itever, _ever_, EVER dry?" Maida used to ask Billy in the mostdespairing of voices.

  By Thursday, the rooms were ready for their second coat of paint.

  "Oh, Billy, do tell me what color it is--I can't wait to see it,"Maida begged.

  But, "Sky-blue-pink" was all she got from Billy.

  Saturday the furniture came.

  In the meantime, Maida had been going to all the principal wholesaleplaces in Boston picking out new stock. Granny Flynn accompanied heror stayed at home, according to the way she felt, but Billy nevermissed a trip.

  Maida enjoyed this tremendously, although often she had to go to bedbefore dark. She said it was the responsibility that tired her.

  To Maida, these big wholesale places seemed like the storehouses ofSanta Claus. In reality they were great halls, lined with parallelrows of counters. The counters were covered with boxes and the boxeswere filled with toys. Along the aisles between the counters movedcrowds of buyers, busily examining the display.

  It was particularly hard for Maida to choose, because she waslimited by price. She kept recalling Mrs. Murdock's advice, "Get asmany things as you can for a cent a-piece." The expensive toystempted her, but although she often stopped and looked themwistfully over, she always ended by going to the cheaper counters.

  "You ought to be thinking how you'll decorate the windows for yourfirst day's sale," Billy advised her. "You must make it look astempting as possible. I think, myself, it's always a good plan todisplay the toys that go with the season."

  Maida thought of this a great deal after she went to bed at night.By the end of the week, she could see in imagination just how herwindows were going to look.

  Saturday night, Billy told her that everything was ready, that sheshould see the completed house Monday morning. It seemed to Maidathat the Sunday coming in between was the longest day that she hadever known.

  When she unlocked the door to the shop, the next morning, she letout a little squeal of joy. "Oh, I would never know it," shedeclared. "How much bigger it looks, and lighter and prettier!"

  Indeed, you would never have known the place yourself. The ceilinghad been whitened. The faded drab woodwork had been painted white.The walls had been colored a beautiful soft yellow. Back of thecounter a series of shelves, glassed in by sliding doors, ran thewhole length of the wall and nearly to the ceiling. Behind the showcase stood a comfortable, cushioned swivel-chair.

  "The stuff you've been buying, Petronilla," Billy said, pointing toa big pile of boxes in the corner. "Now, while Granny and I areputting some last touches to the rooms upstairs, you might bearranging the window."

  "That's just what I planned to do," Maida said, bubbling withimportance. "But you promise not to interrupt me till it's alldone."

  "All right," Billy agreed, smiling peculiarly. He continued to smileas he opened the boxes.

  It did not occur to Maida to ask them what they were going to doupstairs. It did not occur to her even to go up there. From time totime, she heard Granny and Billy laughing. "One of Billy's jokes,"she said to herself. Once she thought she heard the chirp of a bird,but she would not leave her work to find out what it was.

  When the twelve o'clock whistle blew, she called to Granny and toBilly to come to see the results of her morning's labor.

  "I say!" Billy emitted a long loud whistle.

  "Oh, do you like it?" Maida asked anxiously.

  "It's a grand piece of work, Petronilla," Billy said heartily.

  The window certainly struck the key-note of the season. Tops of allsizes and colors were arranged in pretty patterns in the middle.Marbles of all kinds from the ten-for-a-cent "peeweezers" up to themost beautiful, colored "agates" were displayed at the sides.Jump-ropes of variegated colors with handles, brilliantly painted, werefestooned at the back. One of the window shelves had been furnishedlike a tiny room. A whole family of dolls sat about on the tinysofas and
chairs. On the other shelf lay neat piles of blank-booksand paper-blocks, with files of pens, pencils, and rubbers arrangedin a decorative pattern surrounding them all.

  In the show case, fresh candies had been laid out carefully onsaucers and platters of glass. On the counter was a big, floweredbowl.

  "To-morrow, I'm going to fill that bowl with asters," Maidaexplained.

  "OI'm sure the choild has done foine," Granny Flynn said, "Oi cudn'thave done betther mesilf."

  "Now come and look at your rooms, Petronilla," Billy begged, hiseyes dancing.

  Maida opened the door leading into the living-room. Then shesquealed her delight, not once, but continuously, like a very happylittle pig.

  The room was as changed as if some good fairy had waved a magic wandthere. All the woodwork had turned a glistening white. The wallpaper blossomed with garlands of red roses, tied with snoods of redribbons. At each of the three windows waved sash curtains of a snowymuslin. At each of the three sashes hung a golden cage with a pairof golden canaries in it. Along each of the three sills marched potsof brilliantly-blooming scarlet geraniums. A fire spluttered andsparkled in the fireplace, and drawn up in front of it was a bigeasy chair for Granny, and a small easy one for Maida. Familiarthings lay about, too. In one corner gleamed the cheerful face ofthe tall old clock which marked the hours with so silvery a voiceand the moon-changes by such pretty pictures. In another cornershone the polished surface of a spidery-legged little spinet. Maidaloved both these things almost as much as if they had been humanbeings, for her mother and her grandmother and her great-grandmotherhad loved them before her. Needed things caught her eyes everywhere.Here was a little bookcase with all her favorite books. There was adesk, stocked with business-like-looking blank-books. Even thefamiliar table with Granny's "Book of Saints" stood near the easychair. Granny's spectacles lay on an open page, familiarly markingthe place.

  In the center of the room stood a table set for three.

  "It's just the dearest place," Maida said. "Billy, you've rememberedeverything. I thought I heard a bird peep once, but I was too busyto think about it."

  "Want to go upstairs?" Billy asked.

  "I'd forgotten all about bedrooms." Maida flew up the stairs as ifshe had never known a crutch.

  The two bedrooms were very simple, all white--woodwork, furniture,beds, even the fur rugs on the floor. But they were wonderfully gayfrom the beautiful paper that Billy had selected. In Granny's room,the walls imitated a flowered chintz. But in Maida's room everypanel was different. And they all helped to tell the same happystory of a day's hunting in the time when men wore long featheredhats on their curls, when ladies dressed like pictures and allcarried falcons on their wrists.

  "Granny, Granny," Maida called down to them, "Did you ever see anyplace in all your life that felt so _homey_?"

  "I guess it will do," Billy said in an undertone.

  That night, for the first time, Maida slept in the room over thelittle shop.