House and shop and both yards were neat and clean as a New England kitchen.
Gabriel Bearse, after a moment's reflection, opened the gate in the picket fence and walked along the clamshell walk to the shop door.
Opening the door, he entered, a bell attached to the top of the door jingling as he did so.

The room which Mr.Bearse entered was crowded from floor to ceiling, save for a narrow passage, with hit- or-miss stacks of the wooden toys evidently finished and ready for shipment.

Threading his way between the heaps of sailors, mills, vanes and boats, Gabriel came to a door evidently leading to another room.

There was a sign tacked to this door, which read, "PRIVATE," but Mr.Bearse did not let that trouble him.

He pushed the door open.
The second room was evidently the work-shop.