Maida's Little Shop

by Inez Haynes Gillmore

  CHAPTER VIII: A RAINY DAY

  The next day it rained dismally. Maida had been running the shop forthree weeks but this was her first experience with stormy weather.Because she, herself, had never been allowed to set her footoutdoors when the weather was damp, she expected that she would seeno children that day. But long before the bell rang they crowded inwet streaming groups into the shop. And at nine the linesdisappearing into the big school doorways seemed as long as ever.

  Even the Clark twins in rubber boots, long rain-capes and a babyumbrella came in to spend their daily pennies.

  "I guess it'll be one session, Maida," Dorothy whispered.

  "Oh goody, Dorothy!" Mabel lisped. "Don't you love one session,Maida?"

  Maida was ashamed to confess to two such tiny girls that she did notknow what "one session" meant. But she puzzled over it the wholemorning. If Rosie and Arthur had come in she would have asked them.But neither of them appeared. Indeed, they were not anywhere in thelines--Maida looked very carefully.

  At twelve o'clock the school bell did not ring. In surprise, Maidacraned out of the window to consult the big church clock. It agreedexactly with the tall grandfather's clock in the living-room. Bothpointed to twelve, then to five minutes after and ten andfifteen--still no bell.

  A little later Dicky came swinging along, the sides of his old rustyraincoat flapping like the wings of some great bird.

  "It's one-session, Maida," he said jubilantly, "did you hear thebell?"

  "What's one session, Dicky?" Maida asked.

  "Why, when it's too stormy for the children to go to school in theafternoon the fire-bells ring twenty-two at quarter to twelve. Theykeep all the classes in until one o'clock though."

  "Oh, that's why they don't come out," Maida said.

  At one o'clock the umbrellas began to file out of the school door.The street looked as if it had grown a monster crop of shiny blacktoad-stools. But it was the only sign of life that the neighborhoodshowed for the rest of the day. The storm was too violent for eventhe big boys and girls to brave. A very long afternoon went by. Nota customer came into the shop. Maida felt very lonely. She wanderedfrom shop to living-room and from living-room to chamber. She triedto read. She sewed a little. She even popped corn for a lonesomefifteen minutes. But it seemed as if the long dark day would nevergo.

  As they were sitting down to dinner that night, Billy bounced in--hisface pink and wet, his eyes sparkling like diamonds from hisconflict with the winds.

  "Oh, Billy, how glad I am to see you," Maida said. "It's been thelonesomest day."

  "Sure, the sight av ye's grand for sore eyes," said Granny.

  Maida had noticed that Billy's appearance always made the greatestdifference in everything. Before he came, the noise of the windhowling about the store made Maida sad. Now it seemed the jolliestof sounds. And when at seven, Rosie appeared, Maida's cup ofhappiness brimmed over.

  While Billy talked with Granny, the two little girls rearranged thestock.

  "My mother was awful mad with me just before supper," Rosie began atonce. "It seems as if she was so cross lately that there's no livingwith her. She picks on me all the time. That's why I'm here. Shesent me to bed. But I made up my mind I wouldn't go to bed. Iclimbed out my bedroom window and came over here."

  "Oh, Rosie, I wish you wouldn't do that," Maida said. "Oh, do runright home! Think how worried your mother would be if she went upinto your room and found you gone. She wouldn't know what had becomeof you."

  "Well, then, what makes her so strict with me?" Rosie cried. Hereyes had grown as black as thunder clouds. The scowl that made herface so sullen had come deep between her eyebrows.

  "Oh, how I wish I had a mother," Maida said longingly. "I guess Iwouldn't say a word to her, no matter how strict she was."

  "I guess you don't know what you'd do until you tried it," Rosiesaid.

  Granny and Billy had been curiously quiet in the other room.Suddenly Billy Potter stepped to the door.

  "I've just thought of a great game, children," he said. "But we'vegot to play it in the kitchen. Bring some crayons, Maida."

  The children raced after him. "What is it?" they asked in chorus.

  Billy did not answer. He lifted Granny's easy-chair with Granny,knitting and all, and placed it in front of the kitchen stove. Thenhe began to draw a huge rectangle on the clean, stone floor.

  "Guess," he said.

  "Sure and Oi know what ut's going to be," smiled Granny.

  Maida and Rosie watched him closely. Suddenly they both shoutedtogether:

  "Hopscotch! Hopscotch!"

  "Right you are!" Billy approved. He searched among the coals in thehod until he found a hard piece of slate.

  "All ready now!" he said briskly. "Your turn, first, Rosie, becauseyou're company."

  Rosie failed on "fivesy." Maida's turn came next and she failed on"threesy." Billy followed Maida but he hopped on the line on"twosy."

  "Oi belave Oi cud play that game, ould as Oi am," Granny saidsuddenly.

  "I bet you could," Billy said.

  "Sure, 'twas a foine player Oi was when Oi was a little colleen."

  "Come on, Granny," Billy said.

  The two little girls jumped up and down, clapping their hands andshrieking, "Granny's going to play!" "Granny's going to play!" Theymade so much noise finally, that Billy had to threaten to stand themon their heads in a corner.

  Granny took her turn after Billy. She hopped about like a veryactive and a very benevolent old fairy.

  "Oh, doesn't she look like the Dame in fairy tales?" Maida said.

  They played for a half an hour. And who do you suppose won? NotMaida with all her new-found strength, not Rosie with all hernervous energy, not Billy with all his athletic training.

  "Mrs. Delia Flynn, champion of America and Ireland," Billy greetedthe victor. "Granny, we'll have to enter you in the next Olympicgames."

  They returned after this breathless work to the living-room.

  "Now I'm going to tell you a story," Billy announced.

  "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Maida squealed. "Do! Billy tells the most wonderfulstories, Rosie--stories he's heard and stories he's read. But themost wonderful ones are those that he makes up as he goes along."

  The two little girls settled themselves on the hearth-rug at Billy'sfeet. Granny sat, not far off, working with double speed at herneglected knitting.

  "Once upon a time," Billy said, "there lived a little girl namedKlara. And Klara was the naughtiest little girl in the world. Shewas a pretty child and a clever child and everybody would have lovedher if she had only given them a chance. But how can you love achild who is doing naughty things all the time? Particularly was shea great trial to her mother. That poor lady was not well and neededcare and attention, herself. But instead of giving her these, Klaragave her only hard words and disobedient acts. The mother usedsometimes to punish her little daughter but it seemed as if thisonly made her worse. Both father and mother were in despair abouther. Klara seemed to be growing steadily worse and worse. And,indeed, lately, she had added to her naughtiness by threatening torun away.

  "One night, it happened, Klara had been so bad that her mother hadput her to bed early. The moment her mother left the room, Klarawhipped over to the window. 'I'm going to dress myself and climb outthe window and run away and never come back, she said to herself.'

  "The house in which Klara lived was built on the side of a cliff,overlooking the sea. As Klara stood there in her nightgown the moonbegan to rise and come up out of the water. Now the moonrise isalways a beautiful sight and Klara stopped for a moment to watch it,fascinated.

  "It seemed to her that she had never seen the moon look so bigbefore. And certainly she had never seen it such a color--a soft deeporange. In fact, it might have been an immense orange--or better, amonster pumpkin stuck on the horizon-line.

  "The strange thing about the moon, though, was that it grew largerinstead of smaller. It rose higher and higher, growing bigger andbigger, until
it was half-way up the curve of the sky. Then itstopped short. Klara watched it, her eyes bulging out of her head.In all her experience she had never seen such a surprising thing.And while she watched, another remarkable thing happened. A greatdoor in the moon opened suddenly and there on the threshold stood alittle old lady. A strange little old lady she was--a little old ladywith short red skirts and high, gayly-flowered draperies at herwaist, a little old lady with a tall black, sugar-loaf hat, a greatwhite ruff around her neck and little red shoes with bright silverbuckles on them--a little old lady who carried a black cat perched onone shoulder and a broomstick in one hand.

  "The little old lady stooped down and lifted something over thethreshold. Klara strained her eyes to see what it was. It lookedlike a great roll of golden carpeting. With a sudden deft movementthe little old lady threw it out of the door. It flew straightacross the ocean, unrolling as swiftly as a ball of twine thatyou've flung across the room. It came nearer and nearer. The fartherit got from the moon, the faster it unrolled. After a while itstruck against the shore right under Klara's window and Klara sawthat it was the wake of the moon. She watched.

  "The little old lady had disappeared from the doorway in the moonbut the door did not close. And, suddenly, still another wonderfulthing happened. The golden wake lifted itself gradually from thewater until it was on a level with Klara's window. Bending down shetouched it with both her soft little hands. It was as firm and hardas if it had been woven from strands of gold.

  "'Now's my time to run away from my cross mother,' Klara said toherself. 'I guess that nice old lady in the moon wants me to comeand be her little girl. Well, I'll go. I guess they'll be sorry inthis house to-morrow when they wake up and find they're never goingto see me again.'

  "Opening the window gently that nobody might hear her, she steppedon to the Wake of Gold. It felt cool and hard to her little barefeet. It inclined gently from her window. She ran down the slopeuntil she reached the edge of the sea. There she hesitated. For amoment it seemed a daring thing to walk straight out to the moonwith nothing between her and the water but a path of gold. Then sherecalled how her mother had sent her to bed and her heart hardened.She started briskly out.

  "From Klara's window it had looked as though it would take her onlya few moments to get to the moon. But the farther she went, thefarther from her the doorway seemed to go. But she did not mind thatthe walk was so long because it was so pretty. Looking over the edgeof the Wake of Gold, deep down in the water, she could see all kindsof strange sights.

  "At one place a school of little fish swam up to the surface of thewater. Klara knelt down and watched their pretty, graceful motions.The longer she gazed the more fish she saw and the more beautifulthey seemed. Pale-blue fishes with silver spots. Pale-pink ones withgolden stripes. Gorgeous red ones with jewelled black horns.Brilliant yellow and green ones that shone like phosphorus. And hereand there, gliding among them, were what seemed little angel-fishlike living rainbows, whose filmy wing-like fins changed color whenthey swam.

  "Klara reached into the water and tried to catch some of thesemarvelous beings.

  "But at her first motion--bing! The water looked as if it werestreaked with rainbow lightning. Swish! It was dull and clear again,with nothing between her and the quiet, seaweed-covered bottom.

  "A little farther along Klara came across a wonderful sea-grotto.Again she knelt down on the Wake of Gold and watched. At the bottomthe sand was so white and shiny that it might have been made ofstar-dust. Growing up from it were beds of marvelous seaflowers,opening and shutting delicate petals, beautiful seafans that wavedwith every ripple, high, thick shrubs and towering trees in whichthe fishes had built their nests. In and out among all thisundergrowth, frisked tiny sea-horses, ridden by mischievoussea-urchins. They leaped and trotted and galloped as if they were sohappy that they did not know what to do. Klara felt that she mustplay with them. She put one little foot into the water to attracttheir attention. Bing! The water seemed alive with scuttling things.Swish! The grotto was so quiet that she could not believe that therewas anything living in it.

  "A little farther on, Klara came upon a sight even more wonderfulthan this--a village of mer-people. It was set so far down in thewater that it seemed a million miles away. And yet the water was soclear that she felt she could touch the housetops.

  "The mer-houses seemed to be made of a beautiful, sparkling whitecoral with big, wide-open windows through which the tide drifted.The mer-streets seemed to be cobbled in pearl, the sidewalks to bepaved in gold. At their sides grew mer-trees, the highest she hadever seen, with all kinds of beautiful singing fish roosting intheir branches. Little mer-boats of carved pink coral with purpleseaweed sails or of mother-of-pearl with rosy, mer-flower-petalsails, were floating through the streets. In some, sat littlemer-maidens, the sunlight flashing on their pretty green scales, ontheir long, golden tresses, on the bright mirrors they held in theirhands. Other boats held little mer-boys who made beautiful music onthe harps they carried.

  "At one end of the mer-village Klara could see one palace, biggerand more beautiful than all the others. Through an open window shecaught a glimpse of the mer-king--a jolly old fellow with a fat redface and a long white beard sitting on a throne of gold. At his sidereclined the mer-queen--a very beautiful lady with a skin as white asmilk and eyes as green as emeralds. Little mer-princes and littlemer-princesses were playing on the floor with tiny mer-kittens andtinier mer-puppies. One sweet little mer-baby was tiptailing towardsthe window with a pearl that she had stolen from her sister'scoronet.

  "It seemed to Klara that this mer-village was the most enchantingplace that she had ever seen in her life. Oh, how she wanted to livethere!

  "'Oh, good mer-king,' she called entreatingly, 'and good mer-queen,please let me come to live in your palace.'

  "Bing! The water rustled and roiled as if all the birds of paradisethat the world contained had taken flight. Swish! It was perfectlyquiet again. The mer-village was as deserted as a graveyard.

  "'Well, if they don't want me, they shan't get me, Klara said. Andshe walked on twice as proud.'

  "By this time she was getting closer and closer to the moon. Thenearer she came the bigger it grew. Now it filled the entire sky.The door had remained open all this time. Through it she could see agarden--a garden more beautiful than any fairy-tale garden that shehad ever read about. From the doorway silvery paths stretchedbetween hedges as high as a giant's head. Sometimes these pathsended in fountains whose spray twisted into all kinds of fairy-likeshapes. Sometimes these paths seemed to stop flush against theclouds. Nearer stretched flower-beds so brilliant that you wouldhave thought a kaleidoscope had broken on the ground. Birds, likeliving jewels, flew in and out through the tree-branches. They sangso hard that it seemed to Klara they must burst their littlethroats. From the branches hung all kinds of precious stones, allkinds of delicious-looking fruits and candies.

  "Klara could not scramble through the door quickly enough.

  "But as she put one foot on the threshold the little old ladyappeared. She looked as if she had stepped out of a fairy-tale. Andyet Klara had a strange feeling of discomfort when she looked ather. It seemed to Klara that the old lady's mouth was cruel and hereyes hard.

  "'Are you the little girl who's run away?' the old lady asked.

  "'Yes,' Klara faltered.

  "'And you want to live in the Kingdom of the Moon?'

  "'Yes.'

  "'Enter then.'

  "The old lady stepped aside and Klara marched across the threshold.She felt the door swinging to behind her. She heard a bang as itclosed, shutting her out of the world and into the moon.

  "And then--and then--what do you think happened?"

  Billy stopped for a moment. Rosie and Maida rose to their knees.

  "What happened?" they asked breathlessly.

  "The garden vanished as utterly as if it were a broken soap-bubble.Gone were the trees and the flowers; gone were the fountains and thebirds; gone, too, were the jewels, the can
dies and the fruits.

  "The place had become a huge, dreary waste, stretching as far asKlara could see into the distance. It seemed to her as if all thetrash that the world had outgrown had been dumped here--it was socovered with heaps of old rubbish.

  "Klara turned to the old lady. She had not changed except that hercruel mouth sneered.

  "Klara burst into tears. 'I want to go home,' she screamed. 'Let mego back to my mother.'

  "The old lady only smiled. 'You open that door and let me go back tomy mother,' Klara cried passionately.

  "'But I can't open it,' the old lady said. 'It's locked. I have nokeys.'

  "'Where are the keys?' Klara asked.

  "The old lady pointed to the endless heaps of rubbish. 'There,somewhere,' she said.

  "'I'll find them,' Klara screamed, 'and open that door and run backto my home. You shan't keep me from my own dear mother, you wickedwoman.'

  "'Nobody wants to keep you,' the old lady said. 'You came of yourown accord. Find the keys if you want to go back.'

  "That was true and Klara wisely did not answer. But you can fancyhow she regretted coming. She began to search among the dump-heaps.She could find no keys. But the longer she hunted the moredetermined she grew. It seemed to her that she searched for weeksand weeks.

  "It was very discouraging, very dirty and very fatiguing work. Shemoved always in a cloud of dust. At times it seemed as if her backwould break from bending so much. Often she had to bite her lips tokeep from screaming with rage after she had gone through arubbish-pile as high as her head and, still, no keys. All kinds ofvenomous insects stung her. All kinds of vines and brambles scratchedher. All kinds of stickers and thistles pricked her. Her little feetand hands bled all the time. But still she kept at it. After that firstconversation, Klara never spoke with the old lady again. After a fewdays Klara left her in the distance. At the end of a week, themoon-door was no longer in sight when Klara looked back.

  "But during all those weeks of weary work Klara had a chance tothink. She saw for the first time what a naughty little girl she hadbeen and how she had worried the kindest mother in the world. Herlonging for her mother grew so great at times that she had to sitdown and cry. But after a while she would dry her eyes and go at thehunt with fresh determination.

  "One day she caught a glint of something shining from a clump ofbushes. She had to dig and dig to get at it for about these bushesthe ashes were packed down hard. But finally she uncovered a pair ofiron keys. On one was printed in letters of gold, 'I'M SORRY,' onthe other, 'I'LL NEVER DO SO AGAIN.'

  "Klara seized the keys joyfully and ran all the long way back to thegreat door. It had two locks. She put one key in the upper lock,turned it--a great bolt jarred. She put the other key into the secondlock, turned it--a great bolt jarred. The door swung open.

  "'I'm sorry,' Klara whispered to herself. 'I'll never do so again.'

  "She had a feeling that as long as she said those magic words,everything would go well with her.

  "Extending out from the door was the Wake of Gold. Klara boundedthrough the opening and ran. She turned back after a few moments andthere was the old lady with her cat and her broomstick standing inthe doorway. But the old lady's face had grown very gentle and kind.

  "Klara did not look long. She ran as fast as she could pelt acrossthe golden path, whispering, 'I'm sorry. I will never do so again.I'm sorry. I will never do so again. I'm sorry. I will never do soagain.'

  "And as she ran all the little mer-people came to the surface of thewater to encourage her. The little mer-maidens flashed their mirrorsat her. The little mer-boys played wonderful music on their harps.The mer-king gave her a jolly smile and the mer-queen blew her akiss. All the little mer-princesses and all the little mer-princesheld up their pets to her. Even the mer-baby clapped her dimpledhands.

  "And farther on all the little sea horses with the sea urchins ontheir backs assembled in bobbing groups. And farther on all thelittle rainbow fishes gathered in shining files. As she ran all thescratches and gashes in her flesh healed up.

  "After a while she reached her own window. Opening it, she jumpedin. Turning to pull it down she saw the old lady disappear from thedoorway of the moon, saw the door close upon her, saw the Wake ofGold melt and fall into the sea where it lay in a million gleamingspangles, saw the moon float up into the sky, growing smaller andsmaller and paler and paler until it was no larger than a silverplate. And now it was the moon no longer--it was the sun. Its rayswere shining hot on her face. She was back in her little bed. Hermother's arms were about her and Klara was saying, 'I'm SORRY. IWILL NEVER DO SO AGAIN.'"

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  For a long time after Billy finished the room was very quiet. Thensuddenly Rosie jumped to her feet. "That was a lovely story, Billy,"she said. "But I guess I don't want to hear any more now. I thinkI'll go home."