Maida's Little Shop Part 6

she murmured.

"Granny," Maida explained, "this little boy can't go to school because his mother works all day and he has to do the housework and take care of the baby, too, and he wants to learn to read because he thinks he won't be half so lonely with books, and you know, Granny, that's perfectly true, for I never suffered half so much with my legs after I learned to read."

It had all poured out in an uninterrupted stream. She had to stop here to get breath.

"Now, Granny, what I want you to do is to let me hear him read evenings until he learns how. You see his mother comes home then and he can leave the baby with her. Oh, do let me do it, Granny! I'm sure I could. And I really think you ought to. For, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Granny, I don't think you can understand as well as I do what a difference it will make." She turned to the boy.

"Have you read 'Little Men' and 'Little Women'?"

"No-why, I'm only in the first reader."

"I'll read them to you," Maida said decisively, "and 'Treasure Island' and 'The Princes and the Goblins' and 'The Princess and Curdie.'" She reeled off the long list of her favorites.

In the meantime, Granny was considering the matter. Dr. Pierce had said to her of Maida: "Let her do anything that she wants to do-as long as it doesn't interfere with her eating and sleeping. The main thing to do is to get her _to want to do things_."

"What's your name, my lad?" she asked.

"d.i.c.ky Dore, ma'am," the boy answered respectfully.

"Well, Oi don't see why you shouldn't thry ut, acushla," she said to Maida. "A half an hour iv'ry avening after dinner. Sure, in a wake, 'twill be foine and grand we'll be wid the little store running like a clock."

"We'll begin next week, Monday," Maida said eagerly. "You come over here right after dinner."

"All right." The little lame boy looked very happy but, again, he did not seem to know what to say. "Thank you, ma'am," he brought out finally. "And you, too," turning to Maida.

"My name's Maida."

"Thank you, Maida," the boy said with even a greater display of bashfulness. He settled the crutches under his thin shoulders.

"Oh, don't go, yet," Maida pleaded. "I want to ask you some questions. Tell me the names of those dear little girls-the twins."

d.i.c.ky Dore smiled his radiant smile. "Their last name's Clark. Say, ain't they the dead ringers for each other? I can't tell Dorothy from Mabel or Mabel from Dorothy."

"I can't, either," Maida laughed. "It must be fun to be a twin-to have any kind of a sister or brother. Who's that big boy-the one with the hair all hanging down on his face?"

"Oh, that's Arthur Duncan." d.i.c.ky's whole face shone. "He's a dandy.

He can lick any boy of his size in the neighborhood. I bet he could lick any boy of his size in the world. I bet he could lick his weight in wild-cats."

Maida's brow wrinkled. "I don't like him," she said. "He's not polite."

"Well, I like him," d.i.c.ky Dore maintained stoutly. "He's the best friend I've got anywhere. Arthur hasn't any mother, and his father's gone all day. He takes care of himself. He comes over to my place a lot. You'll like him when you know him."

The bell tinkling on his departure did not ring again till noon. But Maida did not mind.

"Granny," she said after d.i.c.ky left, "I think I've made a friend.

Not a friend somebody's brought to me-but a friend of my very own.

Just think of that!"

At twelve, Maida watched the children pour out of the little schoolhouse and disappear in all directions. At two, she watched them reappear from all directions and pour into it again. But between those hours she was so busy that she did not have time to eat her lunch until school began again. After that, she sat undisturbed for an hour.

In the middle of the afternoon, the bell rang with an important-sounding tinkle. Immediately after, the door shut with an important-sounding slam. The footsteps, clattering across the room to the show case, had an important-sounding tap. And the little girl, who looked inquisitively across the counter at Maida, had decidedly an important manner.

She was not a pretty child. Her skin was too pasty, her blue eyes too full and staring. But she had beautiful braids of glossy brown hair that came below her waist. And you would have noticed her at once because of the air with which she wore her clothes and because of a trick of holding her head very high.

Maida could see that she was dressed very much more expensively than the other children in the neighborhood. Her dark, blue coat was elaborate with straps and bright b.u.t.tons. Her pale-blue beaver hat was covered with pale-blue feathers. She wore a gold ring with a turquoise in it, a silver bracelet with a monogram on it, a little gun-metal watch pinned to her coat with a gun-metal pin, and a long string of blue beads from which dangled a locket.

Maida noticed all this decoration with envy, for she herself was never permitted to wear jewelry. Occasionally, Granny would let her wear one string from a big box of bead necklaces which Maida had bought in Venice.

"How much is that candy?" the girl asked, pointing to one of the trays.

Maida told her.

"Dear me, haven't you anything better than that?"

Maida gave her all her prices.

"I'm afraid there's nothing good enough here," the little girl went on disdainfully. "My mother won't let me eat cheap candy. Generally, she has a box sent over twice a week from Boston. But the one we expected to-day didn't come."

"The little girl likes to make people think that she has nicer things than anybody else," Maida thought. She started to speak. If she had permitted herself to go on, she would have said: "The candy in this shop is quite good enough for any little girl. But I won't sell it to you, anyway." But, instead, she said as quietly as she could: "No, I don't believe there's anything here that you'll care for. But I'm sure you'll find lots of expensive candy on Main Street."

The little girl evidently was not expecting that answer. She lingered, still looking into the show case. "I guess I'll take five cents' worth of peppermints," she said finally. Some of the importance had gone out of her voice.

Maida put the candy into a bag and handed it to her without speaking. The girl bustled towards the door. Half-way, she stopped and came back.

"My name is Laura Lathrop," she said. "What's yours?"

"Maida."

"Maida?" the girl repeated questioningly. "Maida?-oh, yes, I know-Maida Flynn. Where did you live before you came here?"

"Oh, lots of places."

"But where?" Laura persisted.

"Boston, New York, Newport, Pride's Crossing, the Adirondacks, Europe."

"Oh, my! Have you been to Europe?" Laura's tone was a little incredulous.

"I lived abroad a year."

"Can you speak French?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle, je parle Francais un peu."

"Say some more," Laura demanded.

Maida smiled. "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix, onze, douze-"

Laura looked impressed. "Do you speak any other language?"