St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1883-10-13
voyage of business and pleasure, for

Poor old daddy! There was the same
magpie in the wicker-work basket, and
he saluted me, for he remembered me.
When | was little boy stuck a tail of
false feathers on him with some cob
bler's wax. He never forgot ME, and
rutfied his feathers at me as soon as he
saw me, as if my insult to him had been
of recent date. There was hardly u
change in the room. There hung faith
er's old watch, as big as saucer, tick
ing away, with spray of lockwood
over it for luck. Then there was on
the shelf the same old earthenware jug.
The handle l broke one unfortunate
day, and q piece of leather was bound
round it, and it hung on a nail by
thong. He had the same awl in his
hand-at least it was the same handle,
for once came near getting thrash
ing for having whitfield it. Even an old
almanac of a year long gone past was
there, tackled to the wall with shoe brads.
He had on the same apron, only it was
worn thinner.
The dear old father was bending over
his work, pounding slowly at some bit
of leather on a last. You could count
one, two, three, four between the ham,
merings. In my time it was rat-tat-tat,
like drum beating, with no interval be-
tween the strokes, / strobe in and tho
old gentleman first looked at my feet;
that was a way he had. At glance
for he was the king of shoemakers-he
could take in all the difference between
your foot and the feet of the rest of
the world. He looked and looked
again. He must have recognized
family foot, for saw his hand tremble,
then he pushed up his great steel
trimmed spectacles and the tears ran
down his cheeks as he rose and tottered
and then fell into my arms. How we
kissed one another. ''My son. my sor.
you never would have succeeded had
you not been good shoemaker; you
never scamped anything; you did the
best you could all the time" was what
he said when told him of my good
luck. Like my dear old daddy did
before me, I added Then I kicked
over his workbench, and said: s'No
more work for you, old pappy, for I am
rich. have awife; / have a baby-a boy
baby, named after you-and you are to
take the cars-first-c lass--to-morrow
or the day afterward, and come post
haste out of the old country to Califor-
MIA, so that grandchild shall sit on your
knee, and you shall teach him to be
honest and pious, and to love you"
.'And may not make him Il good shoe
maker2" he asked. 'But you 90 too
fast. Let me think over it. You ask
me to leave this old Luxembourg, where
/ was born. | should never see again
the grave where your mother, my good
wife. has slept for these last thirty-odd
years. I don't know. / am very old
| should be in the way. / love my old
trade. DO they wear shoes in Califor-
MAP May cobble there? / assure
you, though the hog-bristles bother me
just little at times, and my hammer
moves just trifle slower, still can
turn out very decent Job. / wonder
if | can not beat you now. Come, let
us try
To please the old man, I took up
bit of work and commenced on it. sit
is well DONE" said father, admiringly.
II see you have not forgotten my les
sons. Perhaps that one stitch there is
not quite-quite as even as it should
be. My remarks don't worry you.
STILL" and he held in his shaky hands
the old boot near his eye, sit will pass
muster
At last the blessed old man consented
to 90 with me. Next day we had a
feast in the village. All the old cronies
were invited, the cooper, the watch
maker, the butcher, the drover, the
tailor and the tax-collector. The cure
gave the party his blessing. Oh, what
a good time we had! The old man was
radiant. was introduced to every one
as I'M. -, the American shoemaker,
who had learned his trade in the Lux
embourg." We kept it up all that after
noon and late into the evening, 1t was
feast such as that sleepy old town
will remember for many a day. Just
occasionally / noticed that the old man
weakened when some ancient chum
took him by the hand to bid him good
by. Then I would say: ''Dear daddy.
it's your grandchild that claims You.
How the deuce do you expect he will
ever be a good shoemaker without
your teaching hinl9'' That was an all
powerful argument. The blessed old
man made the trip with me across the
ocean without much fatigue. How glad
my wife was to see her husband and
father, and, as to the baby, he went at
once into his grandpapa's arms.
OF course. father was too old to work.
but still he insisted on having his bench.
AS he grew feeble the stitches became
more uneven, and we were often
alarmed about the awl, which might
have pricked bin. He lived, though,
happily with us for some years. He
grew more unsteady day by day and
wandered q little, but still he would
spend an hour or two every day at his
bench. He made goat-harness for the
little boy and quite a number of pretty