The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-10-05
THE STORY OF A SHOEMAKER

-ou6Ht COOuuQ6, M COnDTegdttOndJlSGs
-&rS-S-
THE STORY OF A SHOEMAKER
I was born in the Luxembourg Just
about fifty years ago. Goodness How
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 ex-
ample of thrift and honesty. "Above
all, !" he used to say to us, for brother
then worked with me, ''be a good shoe
maker. Never scamp anything. Do
the best you can, and do it all the
time" We would work from sunrise
to far into the night. The pay we got
was little enough, so small that we
used to watch the candle that futtered
in the wind and worry over it's cost.
If we worked very, very hard, and Gus
tom was good, we might count on a
gain of ten sous 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 sack of coarse flour
or q 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 a
whole mountain of embarrassment!
l starved myself in order to put a
little money aside. One day | said to
father: "This thing don't work. I am
going to clear out. l can't stand it. /"
You will leave me, my son? Your
poor old father is an incumbrance to
youP" mo, not at all. But / must 90
away to work for him." sit is we'll"
replied my father. "You are a 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 for time. L hardly gained my bread
at first. The habits Of the Partisan
shoemaker Mortified me, for | had been
brought up by pious father. / was a
good workman, however, and after
a while found steady employment, but |
could help poor father out but very little.
q! 1t used to make my heart sore to
think of him cramped up in his little,
dingy room, working away for dear life,
with the meager reward of 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 do, / said I" / must
go somewhere else. am a 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 took place as landsman
on 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 a mar
row street q sign written on paper and
stuck on the glass with waters. [ could
not read it. / did not know a single
word of English then, but over the
door there was q German name. I
made bold to enter, and talked Ger
man to the proprietor. ''Sit down. !"
he said, ION that bench, and sew me on
that sole. :" 81 am a fair shoemaker,
as you will see," | replied. 1t was a
pleasure TO take hold of the tools once
more; they seemed to know me. How
1 blessed my father then. MY boss was
satisfied, and / got job right off at one
dollar day and my food. That was q
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. sent
the dear old father fifty dollars, and
back came his blessing. He wrote he
had never seen so much money at one
time in his life. But [ was ambitious.
just then the California fever was
raging. Something told me to 90 to
the EPaciic coast, 1 took ship and
crossed the Isthmus. just before arriv-
ing at San Francisco there was heavy
gale; we came near being shipwrecked,
and lost my hat. / remember that
quite we'll l landed in San Francisco
with one dollar exactly. On board
there was earousing shoemaker, who
had been sent for from the East bv q
man who kept shop in San Francisco.
heard him say that he had come be-
fore his time, and that, anyhow, if he
could do better he was not going to
work at cobbling. He mentioned the
name of the man who was to hire him.
and had his consent to apply for the
place.
went to the shoe-shop at once and
asked for the position. sit is given to
another man, who ought to be here
soon, and cam t make use of YOU. Be-
sides, you have no hat" "That makes
no difference" l replied. 81 see shoe
makers wages are six dollars a dav-
1t was the flush times of California.
then-give me three dollars and feed
me, and only let me stay until the man
you hired turns up, for l am indeed n
shoemaker. The boss gave kind of
grudging consent. Then set to work.
and slept that night in the shop. When
the master came to the place in the
morning he found everything in elegant
order, and had made five dollars be-
fore breakfast by mending boot. I
HVACOV llAAh cAdCtl y--lOT duu SOOu
shoemaker. | lived with that man for
a year, and saved all my money. sent
the dear old father at home one hun
dred dollars. If you could only have
seen the letter that came back! The
blessed old daddy wanted to know if l
thought he was a spendthriftp That one
hundred dollars he was going to make
do for the next three years! There was
a chance | heard of in Sacramento. I
went there, my master giving me some
of his shop-worn stock. l did a SPLEEN
did business. In six months / had made
for my share three thousand dollars.
My fortune was before me. Poor old
daddy was not forgotten. got cross
letter from him this time The poor
simple soul wanted to know whether
tlOuOhf ha was 0Oinor tn tho dome Ma