The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1920-12-09
Two in a Toyshop
BY JESSIE DOUGLAS

SHc i'iu uoNn uer hummer Win sign
and looked about her Above her on
trestle stood long row of tiny cra-
dies. eacL one perfect, waiting now
for their coats of blue paint
Across the high wooden bench Laeta
caught the eyes of a stranger looking
ut her wistfully.
"A man I'm toy shop" Laeta told
herself dlsgustedly; "brave work for
man." She brushed back thick lock
Of red hair that would persist In fall
ing across her white forehead. and
slipped on the black smock that COW
cred her little glngham dress.
"A white lily," the man Thoughts as
he faced her
But Laeta did not return the frank
question in his eyes Instead she went
forth into the early dusk with her
wide gray eyes unseeing on the quaint
streets, streets that ambled uphill and
curved leisurely down to the blue wa
ter.
At her own gate the hollyhocks
nodded rosy greeting, and Laeta
stopped TO gather the fragrance of
the bed OF old-fashloned plnks She
turned when she heard an uneven step
on the wooden pavement of the village
street. II was the stranger, the man
who had just come TO work I'm the toy
shop. She saw then that he was lame.
"Laeta y voice sounded behind the
hollyhocks. whats keeping you.
child? Teas ready"
Over the tea table Laeta told them
Of the day, how her design had been
praised, the one of the farmyard with
all the painted wooden animals; how
the new air brush was working-but
Laeta did not mention the stranger.
When tea was over and Laeta had
polished the last fluted glass and laid
the shining knives and spoons In the
white closet In prim rows she
touched her mothers white hair with
a butterfly kiss and closed the door
softly behind her.
"She's not happy" her mother
thought, but she said nothing to her
husband. who, with glasses high on
his head, was reading the evening pa
per.
Once oatside the garden Laeta hur-
ried down 10 the water front. She
walked on and on until she had passed
the last gray fisherman's hut and
climbed far out on the colored, jagged
rocks that lined the shore.
Here she sat down with her face to-
ward the far horizon. where the wa
ter met the blurred line OF sky. A
white sail shlmmered for moment
in her vision before II dipped beyond
her sight.
Il want TO go, too" Laeta said soft
ly. Il want TO live-to be free Am
/ going TO be like old Miss Henry and
little Miss Leila, living alone in
white house In a twisty little street
foreverT
Then she heard voices beyond her
and involuntarlly she listened. isn't
II the most picturesque place? The ma
tives are so quaint. Why, they've
lived always In these funny little
houses" Their voices traiIed of.
Laeta turned to see the summer peo-
ple," two girls in sheerest white bal
ancing precariously on high white
heels over the shelving rocks.
She looked down at her worn, shah
by shoes and faded gIngham dress and
felt a momentary sense of loss. But
there was no mark Of her battle, no
sign Of the longing In her face when
she returned an hour later.
The next day found her at work as
usual in the toy shop. painting three
white daisies and one pink hollyhock
on the headpiece of the wooden dolls
cradle.
On very high stool with q black
smock covering the slim whiteness of
her, and lock of red hair that would
fall across her eyes, she did not know
what picture she made and how
the stranger looked at her more often
than at the tiny sailboat he was rig
ging.
But Laeta never even thought of
him until closing time. and then his
crutch startled her as II fell. She
picked II up aDd handed II TO him, and
somehow she found herself replying
gravely TO his questions. He was not
like the other men, she decided, more
like woman--simple and kind.
Other men frightened her, fright
ened her so much she could never an
swer them-but this man-why--she
could only pity him.
She said good night across the hoi.
lyhocks and watched him stumble of.
Somehow, his crutch did not seem to
suit him. Yet when Laeta asker her
self the inevitable question, "COuld |
like himT she knew the answer was
mo-" for she loved bravery and
strength and man who dared every
thing-not a lame stranger with
thin, gaunt face.
The days went on, long days in the
toy shop while Laeta painted inevitable
daisies and glued together small partl-
tions and hammered tiny nails into po-
sitlon. II was the most natural thing