The Brookhaven leader., 1883-10-11

thought he was n spendthrift? That one
hundred dollars he was going to make
do for the next three yearsl There was
a chance heard of i'm Sacramento. /
went there, my master giving me some
of his shop-worn stock. | did a splen-
did business. In six months had made
for my share three thousand dollars.
Nv 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
thought he was going to the dogs. Did
| want to make him n drunkard, a
gourmand, and put all kinds of tempta-
tion in his way2 Too much money was
the source of all evil. was robbing
myself TO pamper him-but for all that
there was lot of sweetness in the let
ter.
Well, thought that fortune was now
mine. But one night q bad fire broke
out and was burned out. Fires oc-
CURED in Sacramento every night and
were the work of thieves. l gathered
togethe~ the few pairs of boots | could
put my hands ON, and placed them with
my money, all in gold, in a trunk, and
carried it out of the wooden shanty
curity ] sat on my trunk, and gazcd be-
something left" said, latter all, to
begin the world with" just then /
was struck heavy blow over the head
with a club, and lost all consciousness.
When came to | found myself on the
ground and my trunk gone. The
thieves had done the business for me.
All! then gave myself up, just for a
moment, to despair. Il am ruined
ruined for ever. Poor daddy l
thought. But 1 was not ruined. for that
crack on the head was the means of my
making my fortune.
didn't cry over things much, for l
am a good shoemaker, and that is al
ways solid capital. l had little
money in my pocket, and went to San
Francisco. | knew my old master
would take me back, and he did so. |
resumed my old place. There was an
auctionecr among his customers with
the tendcrest feet ever saw, and, as |
am shoemaker, that explains all my
good luck. This auctioneer had been
grumbling ever since | left San Fran
cisco. When he saw me he was de-
lighted. AT least now,h he said, II
am out of my great misery. / shall
limp no longer" At once made him
n pair of shoes, and he was delighted.
One day he said to me: Il had an
auction yesterday, and l. put up, with
out getting a single bidder, lot of very
fine French boots. They won't sell be-
cause there's a glut of boots on the
market. They were imported year
ago, but the shape is out of fashion
now. 1t was a square toe then, now it is
around one. Do you want to buy them:"
''How much?" l asked. MAKE Your
own price, 'But have no money"
That makes no difference; YOU may
have them on credit; pay me when you
cam | went to look at those cases of
boots. They were of the finest quality,
and excellent as to make. Some of
them were cavalry boots, and such rs
only dandy horSemcn or general officers
wear. Remember, am good shoemak-
er and know my trade. Ibought those
boots ut one dollar pair. The leather
alone was worth twice that. At night
l used to work on them. | made the
square toes rointed-for l am a good
shoemaker Some of them | cut down
into bootees. Oh! / worked night after
night on them after hours. Then |
hired small shop, and hung up few
pairs in the window.
A Mexican came first. "How much?"
"Ten dollars" He took the boots
Then miner passed! "How much?'
Fifteen dollars" Then a gentleman
on q fine horse came by and looked
from his horse at the boots, and he tied
up his horse and asked How much?'
Twenty dollars He put a double
eagle down. / must have made 81, 800
clear on those boots. Then | found
more of them-a mine of these boots,
and put in my pocket $4,000 ia three
weeks. l worked on for year and
made money in my trade steadily, for |
am good shoemaker. Then | got
married in San Francisco to woman |
loved, and my married life has been a
very happy one. 1t was a pang when |
said to my wife: Il must leave YOU, my
love, for short time only long enough
to pay my dear old daddy a visit" |
left my business in her charge 1t was
voyage of business and pleasure, for /
went to Paris to buy goods.
magpie in the wicker-work basket. and
he saluted me, for he remembered me.
When was little boy stuck tail of
false feathers on him with some cob
bler's wax. He never forgot me, and
ruffled his feathers at me as soon as he
saw me, as if my insult to him had been
of recent date. There was hardly a
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 iue.
The handle l broke one unfortunate
day, and a piece of leather was bound
round it, and it hung on a nail by a
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 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 al 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 the
old gentleman first looked at my feet;
that was way he had. At a glance
for he was the king of shoemakers-h
could take in all the difference between
your foot and the feet of the rest of
the word. He looked and looked