The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1883-11-07
luck. Then there was on the shelf the
same old earthenwnre Jug. The handle
| broke ono unfortunate day, and piece


luck. Then there was on the shelf the
same old earthenware Jug. The handle
| broke ono unfortunate day, and piece
Of leather was bound round it. and il
hung on nail by thong. He had the
same awl in his hand--at least it was the
same handle, for once / came near getting
i thrashing for having whitfield it. Even
m old almanac of year long gone past
was there, tackled to tho will 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 last. You could count
one, two, three, four between the ham.
merings. In my time it was rat tat.tGt,
ike n drum beating, with no interval be-
tween the strokes. ! strobe in End the
old gentleman first looked at my feet;
hat was way he had. AT glance, for
le was the king Of shoc-makcrs, he
,ould take in all the differences 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, and then he
pushed up his great steel-rimmed spec
tacles, and the tears ran down his cheeks
rs he rose and then tottered and then
fell into my arms. How we kissed one
another. "My son, my son, you never
would have succeeded had you not been
a good shoemaker; you never scampcd
anything; you did the best you could all
the time, was what he said when l told
him of my good luck. "Like my dear
old daddy did before me-" / added.
then / kicked over his work bench and
said, "No more work for You, old pappy.
for | am rich. ] have wife, l have Il
baby-a boy baby, named after yoll-
and you are to take the cars-first class
tomorrow or the day afterward and
come post-haste out of the old country
to California. so that grandchild shall
sit on your knee, and you shall teach
him to be honest and pious, and to love
YOU" "And may l not make hin. Ii
good shoe-maker?" he asked. "But
vou go too fast. Let me think over it.
Youask 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. l don't know. | am very
old. | should be in the way. love
my old trade. Do they wear shoes i'll
California? May I cobble there? / as.
sure you, though the hog-bristles bother
me just a little at times, aud my ham,
mer moves just trihe slower, still | can
turn out decent job. l wonder if |
cannot beat you now. Come let us try"
To please the old man, l took up bit
of work and commenced on it. TT is
well DONE" said father admiringly. 81
see you have not forgotten my lessons,
Perhaps that one stitch there is not
quite-quite as even as it should be.
My remarks don't worry you? Still, 1"
and he held in his shaky hands the old
boot near his eye, at will pass muster" I"
At last the blessed old man consented
to 60 with me. Next day we had n feast
in the village. All the old croniet
were invited, the cooper, the watch
maker, the butcher, the drover, the
tailor and the ax-collector. The Curate
gave the party his blessing. Oh, what
a good time we had | The old man was
radiant. I was introduced to every one
as IN. -, the American shoe maker,
who had learned his trade in the Luxem.
bourg." We except it up all that afternoon
and late into the evening. 1t was feast
such as that sleepy old town will remem-
Der for many day. Just occasionall,
l noticed that the old man weakenc,
when some ancient chum took him by IT,.
hand to bid him goodbye. Then
would say: "Dcar Daddy, it's 70,
0rand-chfld that clnims van. How
you expect that he VIII ever he n 60,
shoemaker without your teaching him
That was an all-powerlul argumei.
The blessed old man made the trip vii
me across the ocean without much fl
tigue. How glad my wife was to St
her husband and father, and, as to tn
baby, he went at once into his grand.
papa's arms.
OF course, father was too old to work
but still he insisted upon having his
bench. As he grew feebler the stitches
became more uneven, and we were often
alarmed about the awl, which might
have pricked him. He lived, though,
happily with us for some years. He
grew moro unsteady day by day and
wandered n little, but still he would
spend an hour or two every day ut his
bench. He made goat harness for the
little boy and quite q number Of pretty
things in leather.
One day l heard him in his room tap.
ping, tapping away on his lap.stone with
more than ordinary vigor. Then l list.
ened to him. He said: "a good job q
very good job. Capital, though | ought
not to praise myself. There never was
but one man who could equal me, and
that is my dear, dear son, and his son
my grandson, shall also be first-class
shoe maker, if the good God, whose
name be blessed, only let's me live {
little, very little longer" and then
had heard the rattle of q hammer as If il
had dropped on the floor, and I wen
into his room, and the dear old mai
passed quietly away, with a last prayer
on his lips. There are no shoemaker
nova days like in the old time.