It was in a small brick house in a side street,
but not far from one of the main business avenues of the city.
The shop seemed devoted to articles of stationery and small
notions of various kinds not easy to be classified. He had
stopped to look at three penknives fastened to a card, which was
propped up in the little show-window, supported on one side by a
chess-board with "History of Asia" in gilt letters on the back,
and on the other by a small violin labelled "1 dollar." And as
he gazed past these articles into the interior of the shop, which
was now lighted up, it gradually dawned upon him that it was
something like his ideal of an attractive and interesting
business place. At any rate, he would go in and look at it. He
did not care for a violin, even at the low price marked on the
one in the window, but a new pocket-knife might be useful.
So he walked in and asked to look at pocket-knives.
The shop was in charge of a very pleasant old lady of about
sixty, who sat sewing behind the little counter. While she went
to the window and very carefully reached over the articles
displayed therein to get the card of penknives, Mr. Tolman looked
about him. The shop was quite small, but there seemed to be a
good deal in it. There were shelves behind the counter, and
there were shelves on the opposite wall, and they all seemed well
filled with something or other. In the corner near the old
lady's chair was a little coal stove with a bright fire in it,
and at the back of the shop, at the top of two steps, was a glass
door partly open, through which he saw a small room, with a red
carpet on the floor, and a little table apparently set for a
meal.
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