Maidas Little Shop | Page 6

in. It was hard work, but it was great fun.
First, Mrs. Murdock called, at Billy's request, at his rooms on Mount
Vernon Street. Granny and Maida were there to meet her.
Mrs. Murdock was a tall, thin, erect old lady. Her bright black eyes
were piercing enough, but it seemed to Maida that the round-glassed
spectacles, 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 on the
shelves. Now about buying--there's a wagon comes round once a month
and I've told them to keep right on a-coming even though I ain't there.
They'll sell you your candy, pickles, pickled limes and all 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 places where 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 he
looked at that lady, his eyes "skrinkled up," although there was not a
smile on his face.
"A week is all I need," Mrs. Murdock declared. "If it worn't for other
folks who are keeping me waiting, I'd have that hull place fixed as
clean as a whistle in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Now I'll put a price on
everything, so's you won't be bothered what to charge. There's some
things I don't ever git, because folks buy too many of them and it's sich
an everlasting bother keeping them in stock. But you're young and spry,
and maybe you won't mind jumping about for every Tom, Dick and
Harry. But, remember," she added in parting, "don't git expensive
things. Folks in that neighborhood ain't got no money to fool away. Git
as many things as you can for a cent a-piece. Git some for five and less
for ten and nothing for over a quarter. But you must allus callulate to
buy some things to lose money on. I mean the truck you put in the
window jess to make folks look in. It gits dusty and fly-specked before
you know it and there's an end on it. I allus send them to the Home for
Little Wanderers 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 the
subway. Maida had never walked so far in her life. But her father had
told her that if she wanted to keep the shop, she must give up her
carriage and her automobile. That was not hard. She was willing to give
up anything that she owned for the little shop.

They left the car at City Square in Charlestown and walked the rest of
the way. It was Saturday, a brilliant morning in a beautiful autumn. All
the children in the neighborhood were out playing. Maida looked at
each one of them as she passed. They seemed as wonderful as fairy
beings to her--for would they not all be her customers soon? And yet,
such was her excitement, she could not remember one face after she
had passed it. A single picture remained in her mind--a picture of a
little girl standing alone in the middle of the court. Black-haired,
black-eyed, a vivid spot of color in a scarlet cape and a scarlet hat, the
child was scattering bread-crumbs to a flock of pigeons. The pigeons
did not seem afraid of her. They flew close to 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 went out of
her head entirely when she unlocked the door of the little shop.
"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 its blackened
ceiling, it still seemed dark and dingy.
Maida ran behind the counter, peeped into the show cases, poked her
head into the window, drew out the drawers that lined the wall, pulled
covers from the boxes on the shelves. There is no knowing where her
investigations would have ended if Billy had not said:
"See here, Miss Curiosity, we can't put in the whole morning on the
shop. This is a preliminary tour of investigation. Come and see the rest
of it. This way to the living-room!"
The living-room led from the shop--a big square room,