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Maida's Little Shop by Inez Haynes Gillmore
page 52 of 229 (22%)
“We were just boneying,” the Robin explained. “Didn’t you ever boney
anything?”

“No.”

“Why, you boneys things in store windows,” the Robin went on. “You
always boney with somebody else. You choose one thing for yours and
they choose something else for theirs until everything in the window
is all chosen up. But of course they don’t really belong to you. You
only play they do.”

“I see,” Maida said.

She went to the window and took out the red top and the little pink
doll with curly hair. “Here, these are the things you boneyed first.
You may have them.”

“Oh, thank you—thank you—thank you,” the Robin exclaimed. She kissed
the little pink doll ecstatically, stopping now and then to look
gratefully at Maida.

“Thank you,” the Bogle echoed. He did not look at Maida but he began
at once to wind his top.

“What is your name?” Maida asked.

“Molly Doyle,” the Robin answered. “And this is my brother, Timmie
Doyle.”

“My name’s Maida. Come and see me again, Molly, and you, too,
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