Kimball enterprise. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1883, 1883-05-04

- SSSSAi w SAistoS loS iodlld III NY
head, like a cat after her own tail. l
was fascinated by its faultless rhyme, by
the lawless abandon of its capitals. /
think it would soon have set itself to
music in my whir!ino little brain, if a
voice had not cried out:
eva, little girl, how do you like my
new sign? Don't you cali that first class
poetry"
eyes, it is very nice poetry" / an
swered. And then l went on boldly;
"But l see a word in it that isn't spelled
right
mot spelled right. How's that? l
shall have to hobble out and take a look
at it. You're a pretty %noticin' little
%critter, amt vou?"
l limited that this sort of 'too" was
usually spelled with two o's; but Mr..
Rogers looked hard at the word over his
spectacles, and did not seem to think
fayorably of the change.
81 tell We what said be, finally, "I've
got a way, and no speliin' about it.
What's spellin' as long as folks catch yer
idee? The idee's what yer can't git
along without"
Saying which Mr.. Rogersshook his first
to the Objectionable "to" and wrote tri-
umphantly in its place a huge figure 2.
l felt batiled and hopeless, and went
home with a vague sense that had left
Mr.. Rogers sign much worse than I had
found it. 1t still pursued me, however,
and at dinner | said suddenly:
"Mamma, don't you want my shoe as
good as new, and better, too.
BLESS mel" said the grandmother,
what ais the child? She isn't begin
ming so early to be a poet is She"
ooh, no." cried my father, 81 guess
she's been reading old John Rogers
sign. Wife, it is a curiosity. You must
go by there, We must send him down
some old shoes. You know he broke
his leg last winter, and he's trying to
work again. We must give him 8 lift"
So it was that next morning | found
myself again before the distracting sign,
this time with a large bundle Of old
shoes in my arms. lifted the latch and
stepped into the little shop.
81 declare for it if here amt a rush of
business" said Mr.. Rogers, as he opened
my bundle. "One pair of copper toes.
Them your little brothers? Congress,
with the 'larstic give out. Guess that's
yer grandmother's. And here's some o.
yer pas boots, with a nice handsome
hole il it."
"And I'd like to buy some shoestring,
too L put IN, feeling myself a patron Of
considerable Importance,
NOW, tllela copper toes wouldn't take
more'n half an hour. Can't you sit down
and wait! | amt such d great talker,
but like somebody to speak to once in
a while. There's the cat. | talk to her.
She will look very knowing, but the
, minute my backs turned she's fast
| ,c1r1,~ T1n4 ,,-S{ H,4%a..S -
and l stop"
l sat down, and while l listened used
my eyes as well. The sunlight fought
It's way through the dusty window
frames, and diifused itself impartially
over the floor. with its wide, dirt filed
cracks. The decorations of these walls
were Of an humble order, although by
no means unintcresting. In the first
place there were huge auction bills, in
every stage of yellowness and dirt. My
Grandmother kept an obituary scrap
hook, but as | alterward found out, it
vas Mr.. Rogers's practice to cherish the
auction bills of his departed friends
Amos Belden had peacefully slept with
Rogers's shop it was still proclaimed, in
giant type, that he wished to sell ten
niitch cows and six healthy yearlings."
Nor was this all. Ten years ago a
misguided Snowman had gone to our
little town and had solemnly retreated
the next day, with more experience than
profits, but his advent still lived IN the
handbills on Mr.. Rogers's walls. Be-
hind the old man, as he patiently bent
over his work. an interesting family Of
lions We're sporting, while on the door
We're set forth in vivid pictures the &C.
complishments of the "Fairy of the
Ring a young woman in very scanty
petticoats. The ceiling, too, had its
share OF decorations. From it hung
among festoons of cobweb, a broken
bird cage, a battered Chinese lantern,
whose light had long since gone out, odd
boots, which had parted with their
mates, baskets with no bottoms, and
numberiess straps. chains, and bits Of
rope that had long ago outlived their
usefulness.
But Mr.. Rogers work bench battles
all enumeration. 1t was covered with a
deposit of from six to ten inches in
depth from whose lower stratum Mr..
Rogers would, from time, bring up an
awl or q bit of wax.
1t was the old cobbler himself on
whom my eyes at last rested. In his
most upright days he could not have
been a large man, but now the years
had settled heavily upon him and he
had lost several inches of his youthful
height. Hisface was framed with a thin
white fringe of beard, while cheek and
chin We're rough with a granite colored
stubble. There were fine, netted wrin-
kles, but no deep burrows in the old
mans face, and on each cheek a wintry
bloom still fingered. His voice had the
~1oughness OF a nutmeg CRATER, but now
and then glanced OIL from it's usual key