Maida's Little Shop Part 20

"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 back to my home. You shan't keep me from my own dear mother, you wicked woman.'

"'n.o.body wants to keep you,' the old lady said. 'You came of your own accord. Find the keys if you want to go back.'

"That was true and Klara wisely did not answer. But you can fancy how she regretted coming. She began to search among the dump-heaps.

She could find no keys. But the longer she hunted the more determined she grew. It seemed to her that she searched for weeks and weeks.

"It was very discouraging, very dirty and very fatiguing work. She moved always in a cloud of dust. At times it seemed as if her back would break from bending so much. Often she had to bite her lips to keep from screaming with rage after she had gone through a rubbish-pile as high as her head and, still, no keys. All kinds of venomous insects stung her. All kinds of vines and brambles scratched her. All kinds of stickers and thistles p.r.i.c.ked her. Her little feet and hands bled all the time. But still she kept at it. After that first conversation, Klara never spoke with the old lady again. After a few days Klara left her in the distance. At the end of a week, the moon-door was no longer in sight when Klara looked back.

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

"One day she caught a glint of something s.h.i.+ning from a clump of bushes. She had to dig and dig to get at it for about these bushes the ashes were packed down hard. But finally she uncovered a pair of iron keys. On one was printed in letters of gold, 'I'M SORRY,' on the other, 'I'LL NEVER DO SO AGAIN.'

"Klara seized the keys joyfully and ran all the long way back to the great 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 second lock, 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 bounded through the opening and ran. She turned back after a few moments and there was the old lady with her cat and her broomstick standing in the 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 across the 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 so again.'

"And as she ran all the little mer-people came to the surface of the water to encourage her. The little mer-maidens flashed their mirrors at 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 a kiss. All the little mer-princesses and all the little mer-princes held up their pets to her. Even the mer-baby clapped her dimpled hands.

"And farther on all the little sea horses with the sea urchins on their backs a.s.sembled in bobbing groups. And farther on all the little rainbow fishes gathered in s.h.i.+ning files. As she ran all the scratches and gashes in her flesh healed up.

"After a while she reached her own window. Opening it, she jumped in. Turning to pull it down she saw the old lady disappear from the doorway of the moon, saw the door close upon her, saw the Wake of Gold melt and fall into the sea where it lay in a million gleaming spangles, saw the moon float up into the sky, growing smaller and smaller and paler and paler until it was no larger than a silver plate. And now it was the moon no longer-it was the sun. Its rays were s.h.i.+ning hot on her face. She was back in her little bed. Her mother's arms were about her and Klara was saying, 'I'm SORRY. I WILL NEVER DO SO AGAIN.'"

For a long time after Billy finished the room was very quiet. Then suddenly 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 think I'll go home."

CHAPTER IX: WORK

It was still raining when Maida got up the next day. It rained all the morning. She listened carefully at a quarter to twelve for the one-session bell but it did not ring. Just before school began in the afternoon Rosie came into the shop. Maida saw at once that something had happened to her. Rosie's face looked strange and she dragged across the room instead of pattering with her usual quick, light step.

"What do you think's happened, Maida?" Rosie asked.

"I don't know. Oh, what?" Maida asked affrighted.

"When I came home from school this noon mother wasn't there. But Aunt Theresa was there-she'd cooked the dinner. She said that mother had gone away for a visit and that she wouldn't be back for some time. She said she was going to keep house for father and me while mother was gone. I feel dreadfully homesick and lonesome without mother."

"Oh Rosie, I am sorry," Maida said. "But perhaps your mother won't stay long. Do you like your Aunt Theresa?"

"Oh, yes, I like her. But of course she isn't mother."

"No, of course. n.o.body is like your mother."

"Oh, yes; there's something else I had to tell you. The W.M.N.T.'s are going to meet at d.i.c.ky's after school this afternoon. Be sure to come, Maida."

"Of course I'll come." Maida's whole face sparkled. "That is, if Granny doesn't think it's too wet."

Rosie lingered for a few moments but she did not seem like her usual happy-go-lucky self. And when she left, Maida noticed that instead of running across the street she actually walked.

All the morning long Maida talked of nothing to Granny but the prospective meeting of the W.M.N.T.'s. "Just think, Granny, I never belonged to a club before," she said again and again.

Very early she had put out on her bed the clothes that she intended to wear-a tanbrown serge of which she was particularly fond, and her favorite "tire" of a delicate, soft lawn. She kept rus.h.i.+ng to the window to study the sky. It continued to look like the inside of a dull tin cup. She would not have eaten any lunch at all if Granny had not told her that she must. And her heart sank steadily all the afternoon for the rain continued to come down.

"I don't suppose I can go, Granny," she faltered when the clock struck four.

"Sure an you _can_," Granny responded briskly.

But she wrapped Maida up, as Maida herself said: "As if I was one of papa's carved crystals come all the way from China."

First Granny put on a sweater, then a coat, then over all a raincoat. She put a hood on her head and a veil over that. She made her wear rubber boots and take an umbrella. Maida got into a gale of laughter during the dressing.

"I ought to be wrapped in excelsior now," she said. "If I fall down in the puddle in the court, Granny," she threatened merrily, "I never can pick myself up. I'll either have to roll and roll and roll until I get on to dry land or I'll have to wait until somebody comes and shovels me out."

But she did not fall into the puddle. She walked carefully along the edge and then ran as swiftly as her clothes and lameness would permit. She arrived in d.i.c.ky's garret, red-cheeked and breathless.

Arthur and Rosie had already come. Rosie was playing on the floor with Delia and the puppy that she had rescued from the tin-can persecution. Rosie was growling, the dog was yelping and Delia was squealing-but all three with delight.

Arthur and d.i.c.ky sat opposite each other, working at the round table.

"What do you think of that dog now, Maida?" Rosie asked proudly.

"His name is 'Tag.' You wouldn't know him for the same dog, would you? Isn't he a nice-looking little puppy?"

Tag did look like another dog. He wore a collar and his yellowy coat shone like satin. His whole manner had changed. He came running over to Maida and stood looking at her with the most spirited air in the world, his head on one side, one paw up and one ear c.o.c.ked inquisitively. His tail wriggled so fast that Delia thinking it some wonderful new toy, kept trying to catch it and hold it in her little fingers.

"He's a lovely doggie," Maida said. "I wish I'd brought Fluff."

"And did you ever see such a dear baby," Rosie went on, hugging Delia. "Oh, if I only had a baby brother or sister!"

"She's a darling," Maida agreed heartily. "Babies are so much more fun than dolls, don't you think so, Rosie?"

"Dolls!" No words can express the contempt that was in Miss Brine's accent.

"What are you doing, d.i.c.ky?" Maida asked, limping over to the table.