Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1920-12-24
Two in a Toyshop
By JESSIE

49, ENf+ J'&N
She laid down her hammer with a sigh
and looked about her. Above her on a
trestle stood a long row of tiny era
dies, each one perfect, waiting now
for their coats of blue paint.
Across the high wooden bench Laeta
caught the eyes of a stranger looking
at her wistfully,
"a man in a toy shop Laeta told
herself .disgustedly "brave work for a
man." She brushed back a thick lock
of red hair that would persist in fall
ing across her white forehead, and
cred her little gingham dress.
"A white lily" the man thought as
he faced her.
But Laeta did not return the frank
Z 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
ilUutCu Il IOSy SiCClinSf anu bdCld
stopped to gather the fragrance Of
the bed of old-fashioned pinks. She
turned when she heard an Uneven step
on the wooden pavement of the village
street. 1t was the stranger, the man
who had just come to work in the toy
shop. She saw then that he was lame.
"Laeta !" a 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
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
huHbllidg W Albs Win SIIoSCS lESH Oi
his head, was reading the evening pa
per.
Once outside the garden Laeta hur-
ried down to the water front. She
walked on and on until she had passed
the last gray fisherman's hut and
climbed far ont 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 shimmered for a moment
in her vision before it dipped beyond
her sight.
81 want to go, too" Laeta said soft
ly. 81 want to live-to be free! Am
I going to be like old Miss Henry and
little Miss Leila, living alone in a
white house in a twisty little street
forever?"
Then she heard voices beyond her
and involuntarily she listened. isn't
it the most picturesque place? The ma
ttyes are so quaint. Why, they've
lived always in these funny little
houses" Their voices trailed off.
Laeta turned to see the summer peo-
pie" two girls in sheerest white bal
ancing precariol sly on high white
heels over the shelving rocks.
She looked down at her worn. shah
by shoes and faded Bingham 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 a very high stool with a black
smock covering the slim wilderness Of
her. and a lock of red hair that would
fall across her eyes. she did not know
what a 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 it fell. She
picked it up and handed it to him, and
somehow she found herself replying
gravely to his questions. He was not
like the other men, she decided, more
like a woman-simple and kind.
Other men frightened her, fright
eneG her so much she could never an
swer them-but this man-why-she
could only pity him.
She said good night across the hol-
lyhocks and watched him stumble off.
Somehow. his crutch did not seem to
suit him. Yet when Laeta asker her
self the inevitable question, Gould I
like him." she knew the answer was
mo" for she loved bravery and
strength and a man who dared every
thing-not a lame stranger with a
thin, gaunt face.
The days went on, long days in the
toy shop while Laeta painted inevitable
daisies and glued together small parti-