St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1883-10-13
THE STORY OF A SHOEMAKER.

>about fifty years ago. Goodness! How
I used to work at the bench when was
"a lad, sewing and hammering, ham,
mering and sewing on boots and shoes.
There was that dear old father of mine,
with his big steel-rimmed spectacles
perched on his nose, who set me an eN-
ample of thrift and honesty. '.Aboye
all, !" he used to say to us, for a brother
then worked with me, ''be a good shoe
maker. Never scamp anything. Do
the best you can, and do it all the
timen We would work from sunrise
to far into the night. The pay we got
was little enough, 50 small that we
used to watch the candle that fiuttered
in the wind and worry over its cost.
If we worked very, very hard, and GUS
tom was good, we might count on a
gain of ten SONS each, but sometimes we
would all stop pegging away because
the poor people in our village had no
money to pay for shoes. Oh! how diff
cult it was to buy a sack OF. coarse flour
.or little scrap of meat. We lived
from hand to mouth. Poor old father,
do what we could to help him. he got
into debt, and owed at one time as
much as thirty francs. What huge
sum that seemed to me to be! what q
whole mountain of embarrassment
/ starved myself in order to put
little money aside. One day I said to
father: This thing don't work. I am
going to clear out. can't stand it.
You will leave me, my SOM Your
poor old father is an incumbrance to
your mo, not at all. But | must go
away to work for him. Tt is well, =
replied my father. .sYou are good
shoemaker. Your stitches are strong
and even. You shape well. Go see
the world and Gods blessings accom-
pany you. =
went to Paris and led miserable
life fora time. I hardly gained my bread
at first. The habits of the Partisan
shoemaker Mortified me, for I had been
brought up by a pious father. I was a
good workman, however, and after
"a while found steady employment. but /
could help poor father out but very little.
O! 1t used to make my heart sore to
think of him cramped up in his little,
pdingy room, working away for dear life,
with the meager reward of a crust of
dried bread. The habits of economy
he had taught me helped me then. I
.scraped together sou by sou, and at last
sent him ten frances. He wrote me
that the sum had saved him from being
turned out of his poor old chamber.
This will never de" said. 81 must
go somewhere else. am good shoe
maker, and experience in Paris has
given me the finishing touch. | must
go somewhere else, where the art of
.Crispen will be appreciated. One fine
day in 1850 I took place as landsman
aon an English bark, from Havre to Bos-
ton. l landed in the United States with
Just forty cents 1.-TWO farthings) in my
pocket. sought work at once. saw
in little shoemaker's shop up mar
row street sign written on paper and
stuck on the glass with waters. / could
not read it. I did not know a single
word of English then, but over the
door there was a German name. I
made bold to enter, and talked Ger
man to the proprietor. 'tSit down."
he said, ION that bench, and sew me on
that sole.'' II am fair shoemaker,
sas you will see," I replied. 1t was
pleasure to take hold of the tools once
more; they seemed to know me. How
I blessed my father then. My boss was
satisfied, and Igot q job right off at one
dollar day and my food. That was a
fortune to me then. / worked for six
months steadily, and, save for second
hand pair OF trousers bought by me at a
bargain, / boarded every penny. I sent
the dear old father fifty dollars, and
back came his blessing. He wrote he
had never seen so much money ut one
time in his life. But I was ambitious.
Just then the California fever was
raging. Something told me to go to
the Pacific coast. took ship and
crossed the Isthmus. just before arriy-
ing at San Francisco there was heavy