Maidas Little Shop | Page 8

time for the decorative side of life."
Billy spoke so seriously that most little girls would have been awed by
his manner. But Maida recognized the tone that he always employed
when he was joking her. Beside, his eyes were all "skrinkled up." She
did not quite understand what the joke was, but she smiled back at him.
"Now can we look at the things downstairs?" she pleaded.
"Yes," Billy assented. "To-day is a very important day. Behind locked
doors and sealed windows, we're going to take account of stock."
Granny Flynn remained in the bedrooms to make all kinds of
mysterious 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 and
drawers and drawers and drawers. Every one of these had been
carefully gone over by the conscientious Mrs. Murdock. Two boxes

bulged with toys, too broken or soiled to be of any use. These they
threw into the ash-barrel at once. What was left they dumped on the
floor. Maida and Billy sat down beside the heap and examined the
things, one by one. Maida had never seen such toys in her life--so
cheap and yet so amusing.
It was hard work to keep to business with such enchanting temptation
to play all about them. Billy insisted on spinning every top--he got five
going at once--on blowing every balloon--he produced such dreadful
wails of agony that Granny came running downstairs in great alarm--on
jumping with every jump-rope--the short ones tripped him up and once
he sprawled headlong--on playing jackstones--Maida beat him easily at
this--on playing marbles--with a piece of crayon he drew a ring on the
floor--on looking through all the books--he declared that he was going
to buy some little penny-pamphlet fairy-tales as soon as he could save
the money. But in spite of all this fooling, they really accomplished a
great deal.
They found very few eatables--candy, fruit, or the like. Mrs. Murdock
had wisely sold out this perishable stock. One glass jar, however, was
crammed full of what Billy recognized to be "bulls-eyes"--round lumps
of candy as big as plums and as hard as stones. Billy said that he loved
bulls-eyes better than terrapin or broiled live lobster, 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 had the toothache.
They came across all kinds of odds and ends--lead pencils, blank-books,
an old slate pencil wrapped in gold paper which Billy insisted on using
to draw pictures on a slate--he made this squeak so that Maida clapped
her hands over her ears. They found single pieces from sets of
miniature furniture, a great many dolls, rag-dolls, china dolls, celluloid
dolls, the latest bisque beauties, and two old-fashioned waxen darlings
whose features had all run together from being left in too great a heat.
They went through all these things, sorting them into heaps which they
afterwards placed in boxes. At noon, Billy went out and bought lunch.
Still squatting on the floor, the three of them ate sandwiches and drank
milk. Granny said that Maida had never eaten so much at one meal.

All this happened on Saturday. Maida did not see the little shop again
until it was finished.
By Monday the place was as busy as a beehive. Men were putting in a
furnace, putting in a telephone, putting in a bathroom, whitening the
plaster, painting the woodwork.
Finally came two days of waiting for the paint to dry. "Will it ever, ever,
EVER dry?" Maida used to ask Billy in the most despairing 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 wholesale
places in Boston picking out new stock. Granny Flynn accompanied
her or stayed at home, according to the way she felt, but Billy never
missed a trip.
Maida enjoyed this tremendously, although often she had to go to bed
before dark. She said it was the responsibility that tired her.
To Maida, these big wholesale places seemed like the storehouses of
Santa Claus. In reality they were great halls, lined with parallel rows of
counters. The counters were covered with boxes and the boxes were
filled with toys. Along the aisles between the counters moved crowds
of buyers, busily examining the display.
It was particularly hard for Maida to choose, because she was limited
by price. She kept recalling Mrs. Murdock's advice, "Get as many
things as you can