Maida's Little Shop (Chapter 11 & 12)

Tonight I will be reading from the Maida book series by Enos Haynes Irwin published in 1909.

The story is about a sweet little girl named Maida who is sickly and lame.

Her father is well known to be one of the most wealthiest men in America.

He decides to buy her a little shop in Charleston,

Massachusetts to give her a purpose and to help restore her health.

However,

He has one condition that she not tell anyone who she is or who her father is.

And for the first time in her life,

Maida makes wonderful new friends because they think she's just an ordinary girl.

And so,

As always my friend,

Settling comfortably under the covers,

Take a slow,

Comfortable breath.

And as you exhale,

Relax and let go.

Allow any tension to just melt away,

Letting your body sink deeper and deeper down into the softness of your bed.

There is nothing left to do and nowhere else to be.

So just lay back,

Relax,

And enjoy the story.

Chapter 11 Halloween Halloween fell on Saturday that year.

That made Friday a very busy time for Maida and the other members of the WMNT.

In the afternoon,

They all worked like beavers,

Making jack-o'-lanterns of the dozen pumpkins that Granny had ordered.

Maida and Rosie and Dickie hollowed and scraped them.

Arthur did all the hard work.

The cutting out of the features,

The putting in of candle holders.

These pumpkin lanterns were for decoration,

But Maida had ordered many paper jack-o'-lanterns for sale.

The WMNTs spent the evening rearranging the shop.

Maida went to bed so tired that she could hardly drag one foot after the other.

Granny had to undress her.

But when the schoolchildren came flocking in the next morning,

She felt more than repaid for her work.

The shop resounded with the oh-mys and oh-looks of their surprise and delight.

Indeed,

The room seemed full of twinkling yellow faces.

Lines of them grinned in the doorway.

Rows of them smirked from the shelves.

A frieze,

Close set as peas in a pod,

Grimaced from the molding.

The jolly-looking pumpkin jacks that Arthur had made were piled in a pyramid in the window.

The biggest of them all,

He looks just like the man on the moon,

Rosie said.

Standing about everywhere among the lanterns were groups of little paper brownies,

Their tiny heads turned upwards as if in the greatest astonishment they were examining these monster beings.

The jack-o'-lanterns sold like hotcakes.

As for the brownies,

Granny,

You'd think they were marching off the shelves,

Maida said.

By dark,

She was diving breathlessly into her surplus stock.

At the first touch of twilight,

She lighted every lantern left in the place.

Five minutes afterwards,

A crowd of children had gathered to gaze at the flaming faces in the window.

Even the grown-ups stopped to admire the effect.

More customers came and more,

A great many children whom Maida had never seen before.

By six o'clock,

She had sold out her entire stock.

When she sat down to dinner that night,

She was a very happy little girl.

This is the best day I've had since I opened the shop,

She said contentedly.

She was not tired,

Though.

I feel just like going to a party tonight.

Granny,

Can I wear my prettiest roman sash?

You can wear anything you want,

My lamb,

Granny said.

You've been a busy little child today.

Granny dressed her according to Maida's choice in white.

A very simple,

Soft little frock it was,

With many tiny tucks made by hand and many insertions of a beautiful,

Fine lace.

Maida chose to wear it with pale blue silk stockings and slippers,

A sash of blue striped in pink and white,

A string of pink Venetian beads.

Now Granny,

I'll read until the children call for me,

She suggested,

So I won't rumble my dress.

But she was too excited to read.

She sat for a long time at the window,

Just looking out.

Presently,

The jack-o'-lanterns,

Lighted now,

Began to make blobs of gold in the fury darkness of the street.

She could not at first make out who held them.

It was strange to watch the fiery,

Grinning heads,

Flying,

Bodiless,

From place to place.

But she identified the lanterns in the court by the houses from which they emerged.

The three small ones on the end at the left meant Dickie and Molly and Tim.

Two big ones,

Mounted on sticks,

Came from across the way,

Rosie and Arthur of course.

Two just alike,

Trotting side by side,

Betrayed the Clark twins.

A baby lantern,

Swinging close to the ground,

That could be nobody but Betsy.

The crowd in the court began to march towards the shop.

For an instant,

Maeda watched the spots of brilliant color dancing in her direction.

Then she slipped into her coat and seized her own lantern.

When she came outside,

The sidewalk seemed crowded with grotesque faces,

All laughing at her.

You think,

She said,

I have never been to a Halloween party in my life.

You are the strangest thing,

Maeda,

Rosie said in perplexity.

You've been to Europe,

You can talk French and Italian,

And yet,

You've never been to a Halloween party.

Did you ever hang May baskets?

Maeda shook her head.

You wait until next May,

Rosie prophesied gleefully.

The crowd crossed over into the court.

Two motionless,

Yellow faces,

Grinning at them from the lathrop steps,

Showed that Laura and Harold had come out to meet them.

On the lawn they broke into an impromptu game of tag,

Which the jack-o'-lanterns seemed to enjoy as much as the children.

Certainly,

They whizzed from place to place as quickly and certainly they smiled as hard.

The game ended,

They left their lanterns on the piazza and trooped into the house.

We've got to play the first games in the kitchen,

Laura announced after the coats and hats had come off and Mrs.

Lathrop had greeted them all.

Maeda wondered what sort of party it was that was held in the kitchen,

But she asked no questions.

Almost bursting with curiosity,

She joined the long line marching to the back of the house.

In the middle of the kitchen floor stood a tub of water with apples floating in it.

Bobbing for apples,

The children exclaimed.

Oh,

That's the greatest fun of all.

Did you ever bob for apples,

Maeda?

No.

Let Maeda try it first then,

Laura said.

It's very easy,

Maeda,

She went on with twinkling eyes.

All you have to do is to kneel on the floor,

Clasp your hands behind you and pick out one of the apples with your teeth.

You'll each be allowed three minutes.

Oh,

I can get half a dozen in three minutes,

I guess,

Maeda said.

Laura tied a big apron around Maeda's waist and stood,

Watch in hand.

The children gathered in a circle about the tub.

Maeda knelt on the floor,

Clasped her hands behind her and reached with a wide open mouth for the nearest apple.

But at the first touch of her lips,

The apple bobbed away.

She reached for another.

That bobbed away too.

Another and another and another.

They all bobbed clean out of her reach,

No matter how delicately she touched them.

That method was unsuccessful.

One minute,

Called Laura.

Maeda could hear the children giggling at her.

She tried another scheme,

Making vicious little dabs at the apples.

Her beads and her hair ribbon and one of her long curls dipped into the water,

But she only succeeded in sending the apples spinning across the tub.

Two minutes,

Called Laura.

Why don't you get those half a dozen,

The children jeered.

You know you said it was so easy.

Maeda giggled too,

But inwardly,

She made up her mind that she would get one of those apples if she dipped her whole head into the tub.

At last,

A brilliant idea occurred to her.

Using her chin as a guide,

She poked a big rosy apple over against the side of the tub.

Wedging it there against another big apple,

She held it tight.

Then she dropped her head a little,

Gave a sudden big bite,

And arose amidst applause with the apple secure between her teeth.

After that,

She had the fun of watching the other children.

The older ones were adepts,

And three minutes,

Rosie secured four,

Dickie five,

And Arthur six.

Rosie did not get a drop of water on her,

But the boys emerged with dripping heads.

The little children were not very successful,

But they were more fun.

Molly swallowed so much water that she choked and had to be patted on the back.

Betsy,

After a few snaps of her little rosebud mouth,

Seized one of the apples with her hand,

Sat down on the floor,

And calmly ate it.

But the climax was reached when Tim Doyle suddenly lurched forward and fell headlong into the tub.

I knew he'd fall in,

Molly said in a matter-of-fact voice.

He always falls into everything.

I brought a dry set of clothes for him.

Come Tim.

At this announcement,

Everybody shrieked.

Molly disappeared with Tim in the direction of Laura's bedroom.

When she reappeared,

Sure enough,

Tim had a dry suit on.

Next,

Laura ordered them to sit about the kitchen table.

She gave each child an apple and a knife,

And directed him to pair the apple without breaking the peel.

If you think that is an easy thing to do,

Try it.

It seemed to Maeda that she would never accomplish it.

She spoiled three apples before she succeeded.

Now take your apple pairing and form in line across the kitchen floor,

Laura commanded.

The flock scampered to obey her.

Now when I say three,

She continued,

Throw the pairings back over your shoulder to the floor.

If the pairing makes a letter,

It will be the initial of your future husband or wife.

One,

Two,

Three.

A dozen apple pairings flew to the floor.

Everybody raced across the room to examine their results.

Mine is B,

Dickie said.

And mine's an O,

Rosie declared.

As plain as anything.

What's yours,

Maeda?

It's an X,

Maeda answered in great perplexity.

I don't believe that there are any names beginning with X.

Well,

Mine's is bad,

Laura laughed.

It's a Z.

I guess I'll be Mrs.

Zero.

That's nothing,

Arthur laughed.

Mine's an AND.

I can't marry anybody named AND.

Well,

If that isn't successful,

Laura said,

There's another way of finding out who your husband or wife's going to be.

You must walk down the cellar stairs backwards with a candle in one hand and a mirror in the other.

You must look in the mirror all the time,

And when you get to the foot of the stairs,

You will see,

Reflected in it,

The face of your husband or wife.

This did not interest the little children,

But the big ones were wild to try it.

Gracious?

Doesn't it sound scary,

Rosie said,

Her great eye snapping.

I love a game that's kind of spooky,

Don't you,

Maeda?

Maeda did not answer.

She was watching Harold,

Who was sneaking out of the room very quietly from a door at the side.

All right then,

Rosie,

Laura caught her up.

You can go first.

The children all crowded over to the door leading to the cellar.

The stairs were as dark as pitch.

Rosie took the mirror and the candle that Laura handed her and slipped through the opening.

The little audience listened breathless.

They heard Rosie stumble awkwardly down the stairs,

Heard her pause at the foot.

Next came a moment of silence,

Of waiting as tense above as below.

Then came a burst of Rosie's jolly laughter.

She came running up to them,

Her cheeks like roses,

Her eyes like stars.

They crowded around her.

What did you see?

Tell us about it,

They clamored.

Rosie shook her head.

No,

No,

No,

She maintained.

I'm not going to tell you what I saw until you've been down yourself.

It was Arthur's turn next.

They listened again.

The same thing happened,

Awkward stumbling down the stairs,

A pause.

Then a roar of laughter.

Oh,

What did you see?

They implored when he reappeared.

Try it yourself,

He advised.

I'm not going to tell.

Dickie went next.

Again they all listened,

And to the same mysterious doings.

Dickie came back smiling,

But like the others,

He refused to describe his experiences.

Now it was Maeda's turn.

She took the candle and the mirror from Dickie,

And plunged into the shivery darkness of the stairs.

It was doubly difficult for her to go down backwards because of her lameness,

But she finally arrived at the bottom and stood there expectantly.

It seemed a long time before anything happened.

Suddenly she felt something stir back of her.

A lighted jack-o'-lantern came from between the folds of a curtain which hung from the ceiling.

It grinned over her shoulder at her face in the mirror.

Maeda burst into a shriek of laughter and scrambled upstairs.

I'm going to marry a jack-o'-lantern,

She said.

My name's going to be Mrs.

Jack Pumpkin.

I'm going to marry Laura's sailor doll,

Rosie confessed.

My name is Mrs.

Yankee Doodle.

I'm going to marry Laura's big doll,

Queenie,

Arthur admitted.

And I'm going to marry Harold's teddy bear,

Dickie said.

After that,

They blew soap bubbles and roasted apples and chestnuts,

Popped corn and pulled candy at the great fireplace in the playroom.

And at Maeda's request,

Just before they left,

Laura danced for them.

Will you help me to get on my costume,

Maeda,

Laura asked.

Of course,

Maeda said,

Wondering.

I asked you to come down here,

Maeda,

Laura said,

When the two little girls were alone,

Because I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for the way I treated you just before I got diptheria.

I told my mother about it,

And she said I did those things because I was coming down sick.

She said that people are always freddy and cross when they're not well,

But I don't think it was all that.

I guess I did it on purpose,

Just to be disagreeable,

But I hope you'll excuse me.

Of course I will,

Laura,

Maeda said heartily,

And I hope you will forgive me for going so long without speaking to you.

But you see,

I heard.

She stopped and hesitated.

Things,

She ended lamely.

Oh,

I know what you heard.

I said those things about you to the WMNTs so that they'd get back to you.

I wanted to hurt your feelings.

Laura in her turn stopped and hesitated for an instant.

I was jealous,

She finally confessed in a burst.

But I want you to understand this,

Maeda.

I didn't believe those horrid things myself.

I always have a feeling inside when people are telling lies,

And I didn't have that feeling when you were talking to me.

I knew you were telling the truth.

And all the time while I was getting well,

I felt so dreadfully about it that I knew I never would be happy again unless I told you so.

I did feel bad when I heard those things,

Maeda said,

But of course I forgot about them when Rosie told me you were ill.

Let's forget all about it again.

But Maeda told the WMNTs something of her talk with Laura,

And the result was an invitation to Laura to join the club.

It was accepted gratefully.

The next month went by on wings.

It was a busy month,

Although in a way it was an uneventful one.

The weather kept clear and fine.

Little rain fell,

But on the other hand,

To the great disappointment of the little people of Primrose Court,

There was no snow.

Maeda saw nothing of her father,

For business troubles kept him in New York.

He wrote constantly to her,

And she wrote as faithfully to him.

Letters could not quite fill the gap that his absence made.

Perhaps Billy suspected Maeda's secret loneliness,

For he came oftener and oftener to see her.

One night,

The WMNTs begged so hard for a story that he finally began one called The Crystal Ball.

A wonderful thing about it was that it was half game and half story.

Most wonderful of all,

It went on from night to night and never showed any signs of coming to an end.

But in order to play this game story,

There were two or three conditions to which you absolutely must submit.

For instance,

It must always be played in the dark.

At first,

Everybody must shut his eyes tight.

Billy would say in a deep voice,

Abracadabra,

And presto,

There they all were,

Maeda,

Rosie,

Laura,

Billy,

Arthur,

And Dickie,

Inside the crystal ball.

What people lived there and what things happened to them cannot be told here.

But after an hour or more,

Billy's deepest voice would boom,

Abracadabra,

Again,

And presto,

There they were all again,

Back in the cheerful living room.

Maeda hoped against hope that her father would come to spend Thanksgiving with her,

But he finally wrote and said it was impossible.

Billy came,

However,

And they three enjoyed one of Granny's delicious turkey dinners.

I hope that I would have found your daughter Annie by this time,

Granny,

Billy said,

But I'll find her yet,

You'll see.

I hope so,

Mr.

Billy,

Granny said respectfully,

But Maeda thought her voice sounded as if she had no great hope.

Dickie still continued to come for his reading lessons,

Although Maeda could see that in a month or two,

He would not need a teacher.

One afternoon after Thanksgiving,

Maeda ran over to Dickie's to borrow some pink tissue paper.

She knocked gently,

Nobody answered,

But from the room came the sound of sobbing.

Maeda listened.

It was Dickie's voice.

At first she did not know what to do.

Finally she opened the door and peeped in.

Dickie was sitting all crumpled up,

His head resting on the table.

Oh,

What is the matter,

Dickie,

Maeda asked.

Dickie jumped.

He raised his head and looked at her.

His face was swollen with crying,

His eyes red and heavy.

For a moment he could not speak.

Maeda could see that he was ashamed of being caught in tears,

That he was trying hard to control himself.

It's something I heard,

He replied at last.

What?

Maeda asked.

Last night after I got to bed,

Doc O'Brien came here to get his bill paid.

Mother thought I was asleep and asked him a whole lot of questions.

He told her that I wasn't any better and I never would be any better.

He said that I'd be a cripple for the rest of my life.

In spite of all his efforts,

Dickie's voice broke into a sob.

Oh,

Dickie,

Dickie,

Maeda said.

Better than anybody else in the world,

Maeda felt that she could understand,

Could sympathize.

Oh,

Dickie,

How sorry I am.

I can't bear it,

Dickie said.

He put his head down on the table and began to sob.

I can't bear it,

He said.

Why,

I thought when I grew up to be a man,

I was going to take care of Mother and Delia.

Instead of that,

They'll be taking care of me.

What can a cripple do?

Once I read about a cripple to Newsboy.

Do you suppose I could sell papers,

He asked with a gleam of hope.

I'm sure you could,

Maeda said heartily,

And a great many other things.

But it may not be as bad as you think,

Dickie.

Dr.

O'Brien may be mistaken.

You know something was wrong with me when I was born and I did not begin to walk until a year ago.

My father has taken me to so many doctors that I'm sure he could not remember half their names.

But they all said the same thing,

That I never would walk like other children.

Then a very great physician,

Dr.

Grindschmidt,

Came from way across the sea from Germany.

He said he could cure me,

And he did.

I had to be operated on and,

Oh,

I suffered dreadfully.

But you see that I'm all well now.

I'm even losing my limp.

Now,

I believe that Dr.

Grindschmidt can cure you.

The next time my father comes home,

I'm going to ask him.

Dickie had stopped crying.

He was drinking down everything that she said.

Is he still here,

That doctor,

He asked.

No,

Meda admitted sorefully.

But there must be doctors as good as he somewhere.

But don't you worry about it at all,

Dickie.

You wait until my father sees you.

He always gets everything made right.

When's your father coming home?

I don't quite know,

But I look for him any time now.

Dickie started to set the table.

I guess I wouldn't have cried,

He said after a while,

If I could have cried last night when I first heard it.

But of course,

I couldn't let Mother or Doc O'Brien know that I'd heard them.

It would make them feel bad.

I don't want my mother ever to know that I know it.

After that,

Meda redoubled her efforts to be nice to Dickie.

She cuddled her brains,

Too,

For new decorative schemes for his paperwork.

She asked Billy Potter to bring a whole bag of her books from the Beacon Street House,

And she lent them to Dickie,

A half a dozen at a time.

Indeed,

They were a very busy quartet,

The WMNTEs.

Rosie went to school every day.

She climbed out of her window no more at night.

She seemed to prefer helping Meda in the shop to anything else.

Arthur Duncan was equally industrious.

With no Rosie to play hooky with,

He,

Too,

Was driven to attending school regularly.

His leisure hours were devoted to his whittling and woodcarving.

He was always doing kind things for Meda and Granny,

Bringing up the coal,

Emptying the ashes,

Running errands.

And so,

November passed into December.

Chapter 12 The First Snow Look out of the window,

My lamb,

Granny called one morning early in December.

Meda opened her eyes,

Jumped obediently out of bed,

And pattered across the room.

There,

She gave a scream of delight,

Jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

Snow!

Oh,

Goody,

Goody,

Goody!

Snow at last!

It looked as if the whole world had been wrapped in a blanket of the whitest,

Fleeciest,

Shiniest wool.

Sidewalks,

Streets,

Crossings were all leveled to one smoothness.

The fences were so muffled that they had swelled to twice their size.

The houses wore trim,

Pointy caps on their gables.

The high bushes in the yard hung to the very ground.

The low ones had become mounds.

The trees looked as if they had been packed in cotton wool and put away for the winter.

And the lovely part of it is it's still snowing,

Meda exclaimed blissfully.

Meda dressed in the greatest excitement.

Few children came in to make purchases that morning,

And the lines pouring into the schoolhouse were very shivery and much shorter than usual.

At a quarter to twelve,

The one-session bell rang.

When the children came out of school at one,

The snow was whirling down thicker and faster than in the morning.

A high wind came up and piled it in the most unexpected places.

Trade stopped entirely in the shop.

No mother would let her children brave so terrific a storm.

It snowed that night and all the next morning.

The second day,

Fewer children went to school than on the first.

But at two o'clock,

When the sun burst through the gray sky,

The children swarmed the streets.

Shovels and brooms began to appear,

Snowballs to fly,

Sleigh bells to tinkle.

Rosie came dashing into the shop in the midst of this burst of excitement.

I've shoveled our sidewalk,

She announced triumphantly.

Is anything wrong with me?

Everybody's staring at me.

Meda stared too.

Rosie's scarlet cape was dotted with snow.

Her scarlet hat was white with it.

Great flakes had caught in her long black hair,

Had starred her soft brows.

They hung from her very eyelashes.

Her cheeks and lips were the color of coral,

And her eyes like great velvety moons.

You look in the glass and see what they're staring at,

Meda said slyly.

Rosie went to the mirror.

I don't see anything the matter.

It's because you look so pretty,

Goose,

Meda exclaimed.

Rosie always blushed and looked ashamed if anybody alluded to her prettiness.

Now she leaped to Meda's side and pretended to beat her.

Stop that,

A voice called.

Startled,

The little girls looked up.

Billy stood in the doorway.

I've come over to make a snow house,

He explained.

Oh,

Billy,

What things you think of,

Meda exclaimed.

Wait till I get Arthur and Dickie.

Couldn't get many more in here,

Could we?

Billy commented when the five had assembled in the child-sized yard.

I don't know that we could stow away another shovel.

Now,

First of all,

Here to pile all the snow in the yard into that corner.

Everybody went to work,

But Billy and Arthur moved so quickly with their big shovels that Meda and Rosie and Dickie did nothing but hop about them.

Almost before they realized it,

The snow pile reached to the top of the fence.

Pack it down hard,

Billy commanded,

As hard as you can make it.

Everybody scrambled to obey.

For a few moments,

The sound of shovels beating on the snow drowned their talk.

That will do for that,

Billy commanded suddenly.

His little force stopped,

Breathless and red-cheeked.

Now I'm going to dig out the room.

I guess I'll have to do this.

If you're not careful enough,

The roof will cave in.

Then it's all got to be done again.

Working very slowly,

He began to hollow out the structure.

After the hole had grown big enough,

He crawled into it.

But in spite of his own warning,

He must have been too energetic in his movements.

Suddenly,

The roof came down on his head.

Billy was on his feet in an instant,

Shaking the snow off as a dog shakes off water.

Why,

Billy,

You look like a snowman,

Meda laughed.

I feel like one,

Billy said,

Wiping the snow from his eyes and from under his collar.

But don't be discouraged,

My hearties.

Up with it again.

I'll be more careful the next time.

They went at it again with increased interest,

Heaping up a mound of snow bigger than before,

Beating it until it was as hard as a brick,

Hollowing out inside a chamber big enough for three of them to occupy at once.

But Billy gave them no time to enjoy their new dwelling.

Run into the house,

Was his next order,

And bring out all the water you can carry.

There was a wild scramble to see which would get to the sink first,

But in a few moments,

An orderly file emerged from the house.

Arthur with a bucket,

Dickie with a basin,

Rosie with the dishpan,

Meda with a dipper.

Now I'm going to pour water over the house,

Billy explained.

You see,

If it freezes now,

It will last longer.

Very carefully,

He sprayed it on the sides of the roof,

Dashing it upwards on the inside walls.

We might as well make it look pretty while we're about it,

Billy continued.

You children get to work and make a lot of snowballs,

The size of an orange,

And just as round as you can turn them out.

This was easy work.

Before Billy could say Jack Robinson,

Four pairs of eager hands had accumulated snowballs enough for a sham battle.

In the meantime,

Billy had decorated the doorway with two tall round pillars.

He added a pointed roof to the house and trimmed it with snowballs all along the edge.

Now I guess we'd better have a snowman to live in this mansion while we're about it,

Billy suggested briskly.

Each of you roll up an arm or a leg while I make the body.

Billy placed the legs in the corner opposite the snow house.

He lifted onto them the big round body which he himself had rolled.

Putting the arms on was not easy.

He worked for a long time before he found the angle at which they would stick.

Everybody took a hand at the head.

Meda contributed some dulse for the hair,

Slitting it into ribbons which she stuck on with glue.

Rosie found a broken clothespin for the nose.

The round smooth coals that Dickie discovered in the coal hod made a pair of expressive black eyes.

Arthur cut two sets of teeth from orange peel and inserted them in the gash that was the mouth.

When the head was set on the shoulders,

Billy disappeared into the house for a moment.

He came back carrying a suitcase.

Shut your eyes,

Every man jack of you,

He ordered.

You're not to see what I do until it's done.

If I catch one of you peeking,

I'll confine you in the snow house for five minutes.

The WMNTs shut their eyes tight and held down their lids with fingers,

But they kept their ears wide open.

The mysterious work on which Billy was engaged was accompanied by the most tantalizing noises.

Oh Billy,

Can't I please look?

Meda begged,

Jiggling up and down.

I can't stand it much longer.

In a minute,

Billy said encouragingly.

The mysterious noises kept up.

Now,

Billy said suddenly.

Four pairs of eyes leaped open.

Four pairs of lips shrieked their delight.

Indeed,

Meda and Rosie laughed so hard that they finally rolled in the snow.

Billy had put on an old coat on the snowman's body.

He had put a tall hat,

Arthur called it a stovepipe,

On the snowman's head.

He had put an old black pipe between the snowman's grinning orange-colored teeth.

Gloves hung limply from the snowman's arm stumps,

And to one of them,

A cane was fastened.

Billy had managed to give the snowman's head a cock to one side.

Altogether,

He looked so spruce and jovial that it was impossible not to like him.

Mr.

Chumpley,

Ladies and gentlemen,

Billy said.

And Mr.

Chumpley,

He was until.

.

.

Until.

.

.

Billy stayed that night to dinner.

They had just finished eating when an excited ring of the bell announced Rosie.

Oh,

Granny,

She said.

The boys have made a most wonderful coast down Hollywell Street,

And Aunt Teresa says I can go coasting until nine o'clock if you'll let Meda go too.

I thought maybe you would,

Especially if Billy comes along.

If Mr.

Billy goes,

That'll be all right.

Oh,

Granny,

Meda said.

You dear,

Darling old fairy dame.

She was so excited that she wriggled like a little eel all the time Granny was bundling her into clothes.

And when she reached the street,

It seemed as if she must explode.

A big moon floating like a silver balloon in the sky made the night like day.

The neighborhood sizzled with excitement for the street and sidewalks were covered with children dragging sleds.

It's like the Pied Piper,

Rosie,

Meda said joyfully.

Children everywhere and all going in the same direction.

They followed the procession up Warrington Street to where Hollywell Street sloped down the hill.

Billy let out a long whistle of astonishment.

Great Scott,

What a coast,

He said.

In the middle of the street was a ribbon of ice three feet wide and as smooth as glass.

At the foot of the hill,

A piled up mound of snow served as a buffer.

The boys had been working on the slide all day,

Rosie said.

Did you ever see such a nice one,

Meda?

I never saw any kind of a one,

Meda confessed.

How did they make it so smooth?

Pouring water on it.

Have you never coasted before,

Meda?

Billy asked.

Never.

Well,

Here's your chance then,

Said a cheerful voice back of them.

They all turned.

There stood Arthur Duncan with what Meda soon learned was a double runner.

Billy examined it carefully.

Did you make it,

Arthur?

Yes.

Pretty good piece of work,

Billy commented.

Want to try it,

Meda?

I'm crazy to.

All right,

Pile on.

Arthur took his place in front.

Rosie sat next,

Then Dickie,

Then Meda,

Then Billy.

Hold on to Dickie,

Billy instructed Meda,

And I'll hold on to you.

Tingling with excitement,

Meda did as she was told,

But it seemed as if they would never start.

But at last she heard Billy's voice.

On your marks,

Get set,

Go!

The double runner stirred.

It moved slowly for a moment across the level top of the street.

Then came the first slope of the hill.

They plunged forward.

She heard Rosie's hysterical shriek,

Dickie's cheers,

And Billy's blood-curdling yells,

But she herself was as silent as a little image.

They struck the second slope of the hill.

Then she screamed too.

The houses on either side shot past like pictures in the kinetoscope.

She felt a rush of wind that must surely blow her ears off.

They reached the third slope of the hill,

And now they had left the earth and were sailing through the air.

The next instant,

The double runner had come to rest on the bank of snow,

And Rosie and she were hugging each other and saying,

Wasn't it great?

They climbed to the top of the hill again.

All the way back,

Maida watched the sleds whizzing down the coast,

Boys alone on sleds,

Girls alone on sleds,

Pairs of girls,

Pairs of boys,

One seated in front,

The other steering with a foot that trailed behind on the ice.

Timid little girls who did not dare the ice,

But contented themselves with sliding on the snow at either side.

Daring little boys who went down lying flat on their sleds.

At the top,

They were besieged with entreaties to go on the double runner,

And as there was room enough for one more,

They took a little boy or girl with them each time.

Rosie lent her sled to those who had none.

At first there were plenty of these,

Standing at the top of the coast,

Wistfully watching the fun of more fortunate children.

But after a while,

It was discovered that the ice was so smooth that almost anything could be used for coasting.

The sledless ones rushed home and reappeared with all kinds of things.

One little lad went down on a shovel,

And his intrepid little sister followed on a broom.

Boxes and shingles and even dishpans began to appear.

Most reckless of all,

One big fellow slid down on his two feet,

Landing in a heap in the snow.

Meda enjoyed every moment of it,

Even the long walks back up the hill.

Once,

The double runner struck into a riderless sled that had drifted onto the course and was overturned immediately.

Nobody was hurt.

Rosie,

Dickie and Arthur were cast safely to one side in the soft snow,

But Meda and Billy were thrown,

Rolling onto the ice.

Billy kept his grip on Meda and they shot down the hill,

Turning round and round and round.

At first,

Meda was a little frightened,

But when she saw that they were perfectly safe,

That Billy was making her spin about in that ridiculous fashion,

She laughed so hard that she was weak when they reached the bottom.

Oh,

Let's do that again,

She said when she caught her breath.

Never was such a week as followed.

The cold weather kept up.

Continued storms added to the snow.

For the first time in years,

Came four one-session days in a single week.

It seemed as if Jack Frost were on the side of the children.

He would send violent flurries of snow just before the one-session bell rang,

But as soon as the children were safely on the street,

The sun would come out bright as summer.

Every morning when Meda woke up,

She would say to herself,

I wonder how Mr.

Chumpley is today.

Then she would run over to the window to see.

Mr.

Chumpley had become a great favorite in the neighborhood.

He was so tall that his round,

Happy face with its eternal orange-peel grin could look straight over the fence to the street.

The passers-by used to stop,

Paralyzed by the vision.

But after studying the phenomena,

They would go on laughing on their way.

Occasionally,

A bad boy would shy a snowball at the smiling countenance,

But Mr.

Chumpley was so hard-headed that nothing seemed to hurt him.

In the course of time,

The stovepipe became very battered,

And as the result of continued storms,

One eye sank down to the middle of his cheek.

But in spite of his injuries,

He continued to maintain his genial grin.

Let's go out and fix Mr.

Chumpley,

Rosie would say every day.

The two little girls would brush the snow off his hat and coat,

Adjust his nose and teeth,

Would straighten him up generally.

After a while,

Maida threw her bird crumbs all over Mr.

Chumpley.

Thereafter,

The saucy little English sparrows ate from Mr.

Chumpley's hat brim,

His pipe bowl,

Even his pockets.

Perhaps the snow will last all winter,

Maida said hopefully one day.

If it does,

Mr.

Chumpley's health will be perfect.

Well,

Perhaps it's just as well if he goes,

Rosie said sensibly.

We haven't done a bit of work since he came.

On Sunday,

The weather moderated a little.

Mr.

Chumpley bore a most melancholy look all the afternoon,

As if he feared what was to come.

What was worse,

He lost his nose.

Monday morning,

Maida ran to the window,

Dreading what she might see.

But instead of the thaw she expected,

A most beautiful sight spread out before her.

The weather had turned cold in the night.

Everything that had started to melt had frozen up again.

The sidewalks were like frosted cakes.

Long icicles made pretty fringes around the roofs of the houses.

The trees and bushes were glazed by a sheathing of crystal.

The sunlight playing through all this turned the world into a heap of diamonds.

Mr.

Chumpley had perked up under the influence of the cold.

His manner had gained in solidity,

Although his gaze was a little glassy.

Hopefully,

Maida hunted about until she found his nose.

She replaced his old set with some new orange-peeled teeth and stuck his pipe between them.

He looked quite himself.

But,

Alas,

The sun came out and melted the whole world.

The sidewalks trickled streams.

The icicles dripped away in showers of diamonds.

The trees lost their crystal sheathing.

In the afternoon,

Mr.

Chumpley began to droop.

By night,

His head was resting disconsolately on his own shoulder.

When Maida looked out the next morning,

There was nothing in the corner but a mound of snow.

An old coat lay to one side.

Strewn about were a hat,

A pair of gloves,

A pipe,

And a cane.

Mr.

Chumpley had passed away in the night.

Sweet dreams,

My friend.

Sleep well.