With all these little people to act upon its stage, it is not surprising that Primrose Court seemed to Maida to be a little theater of fun—­a stage to which her window was the royal box.  Something was going on there from morning to night.  Here would be a little group of little girls playing “house” with numerous families of dolls.  There, it would be boys, gathered in an excited ring, playing marbles or top.  Just before school, games like leap-frog, or tag or prisoners’ base would prevail.  But, later, when there was more time, hoist-the-sail would fill the air with its strange cries, or hide-and-seek would make the place boil with excitement.  Maida used to watch these games wistfully, for Granny had decided that they were all too rough for her.  She would not even let Maida play “London-Bridge-is-falling-down” or “drop the handkerchief”—­anything, in fact, in which she would have to run or pull.

But Granny had no objections to the gentler fun of “Miss Jennie-I-Jones,” “ring-a-ring-a-rounder,” “water, water wildflower,” “the farmer in the dell,” “go in and out the windows.”  Maida used to try to pick out the airs of these games on the spinet—­she never could decide which was the sweetest.

Maida soon learned how to play jackstones and, at the end of the second week, she was almost as proficient as Rosie with the top.  The thing she most wanted to learn, however, was jump-rope.  Every little girl in Primrose Court could jump-rope—­even the twins, who were especially nimble at “pepper.”  Maida tried it one night—­all alone in the shop.  But suddenly her weak leg gave way under her and she fell to the floor.  Granny, rushing in from the other room, scolded her violently.  She ended by forbidding her to jump again without special permission.  But Maida made up her mind that she was going to learn sometime, even, as she said with a roguish smile, “if it took a leg.”  She talked it over with Rosie.

“You let her jump just one jump every morning and night, Granny,” Rosie advised, “and I’m sure it will be all right.  That won’t hurt her any and, after awhile, she’ll find she can jump two, then three and so on.  That’s the way I learned.”

Granny agreed to this.  Maida practiced constantly, one jump in her nightgown, just before going to bed, and another, all dressed, just after she got up.

“I jumped three jumps this morning without failing, Granny,” she said one morning at breakfast.  Within a few days the record climbed to five, then to seven, then, at a leap, to ten.

Dr. Pierce called early one morning.  His eyes opened wide when they fell upon her.  “Well, well, Pinkwink,” he said.  “What do you mean by bringing me way over here!  I thought you were supposed to be a sick young person.  Where’d you get that color?”

A flush like that of a pink sweet-pea blossom had begun to show in Maida’s cheek.  It was faint but it was permanent.

“Why, you’re the worst fraud on my list.  If you keep on like this, young woman, I shan’t have any excuse for calling.  You’ve done fine, Granny.”