After that meeting, the W.M.N.T.’s were busier than they had ever been. Every other afternoon, and always when it was bad weather, they worked at Maida’s house. Granny gave Maida a closet all to herself and as fast as the things were finished they were put in boxes and stowed away on its capacious shelves. Arthur whittled and carved industriously. His work went slower than Dicky’s of course but, still, it went with remarkable quickness. Maida often stopped her own work on the paper things to watch Arthur’s. It was a constant marvel to her that such big, awkward-looking hands could perform feats of such delicacy. Her own fingers, small and delicate as they were, bungled surprisingly at times. “And as for the paste,” Maida said in disgust to Rosie one day, “you’d think that I fell into the paste-pot every day. I wash it off my hands and face. I pick it off of my clothes and sometimes Granny combs it out of my hair.” Often after dinner, the W.M.N.T.’s would call in a body on Maida. Then would follow long hours of such fun that Maida hated to hear the clock strike nine. Always there would be molasses-candy making by the capable Rosie at the kitchen stove and corn-popping by the vigorous Arthur on the living-room hearth. After the candy had cooled and the pop corn had been flooded in melted butter, they would gather about the hearth to roast apples and chestnuts and to listen to the fairy-tales that Maida would read. The one thing which she could do and they could not was to read with the ease and expression of a grown person. As many of her books were in French as in English and it was the wonder of the other W.M.N.T.’s that she could read a French story, translating as she went. Her books were a delight to Arthur and Dicky and she lent them freely. Rosie liked to listen to stories but she did not care to read. Maida was very happy nowadays. Laura was the only person in the Court who had caused her any uneasiness. Since the day that Laura had made herself so disagreeable, Maida had avoided her steadily. Best of all, perhaps, Maida’s health had improved so much that even her limp was slowly disappearing. In the course of time, the children taught Maida the secret language of the W.M.N.T.’s. They could hold long conversations that were unintelligible to anybody else. When at first they used it in fun before Maida, she could not understand a word. After they had explained it to her, she wondered that she had ever been puzzled. “It’s as easy as anything,” Rosy said. “You take off the first sound of a word and put it on the end with an _ay_ added to it like MAN—an-may. BOY—oy-bay. GIRL—irl-gay. When a word is just one sound like I or O, or when it begins with a vowel like EEL or US or OUT, you add _way_, like I—I-way. O—O-way. EEL—eel-way. US—us-way. OUT—out-way.” Thus Maida could say to Rosie: “Are-way ou-yay oing-gay o-tay ool-schay o-tay ay-day?” and mean simply, “Are you going to school to-day?”