The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1883-09-22

didn't cry over things much, for I
am a good shoemaker, and that's ALWAYS
a solid capital. I had a little money in
my pocket, and went to San Francisco,
L knew my old master would take me
back, and he dill So / resumed
my old place There was an
auctloneer among his customers with the
tenderest feet ever saw, and as am a
shoemaker, that explains all nv good
iuck. This auctioneer had been gum
ping ever since [ left San Francisco.
When he saw me he was delighted. "At
least now," he said, 81 am out of NV
great mysery. I shall limp no longer p"
At once l made him a pair of shoss' and
he was delighted.
One day he said to me: 81 had an
auction yesterday, and I put up. with
out getting single bidder. a lot of very
hne French boots. They won't sell be-
cause there is a glut of boots on the
market. They were imported a year
ago, but the shape is out of fashion now.
1t was square toe then, now it is a
round one. Do you buy them ?" elbow
much 2" l asked. MAKE your own
price. s. But I have no money" "That
makes no difference; you may have them
on credit; pay me when you can" I
went to look at these cases of boots
They were of the finest quality. and ex-
celtent as to make. Some of them we're
cavalry boots-but such as only dandy
horsemen or general officers wear
Remember, am good shoemaker and
know my trade. l bought these boots
at 81 a pair. The leather alone was
worth twice that. At night 1 used to
work on them. | made the square toes
polnted-for | am good shoemaker.
Some OF them l cut down into bootes.
Oh! worked night after night On them
after hours. Then hired a small shop
and hung up few pairs in the window.
A Mexican came first. Chow much ?"
Ten dollars" He took the boots.
Then a miner passed Chow much 2"
" Fifteen dollars" Then a gentleman
on a fine horse came by and looked from
his horse at the boots, aud he tied up
his horse and asked, Chow much ?"
Twenty dollars" He put a double
eagle down. must have made 50, 500
clear on those boots. Then [ found
more OF them-a mine of these boots,
and put in my pocket 5000 in three
weeks. ] worked on tor year and
made money in my trade steadily, for I
am a good shoemaker. Then L got mar
red IN San Francisco to a woman low
ed, and my married life has been a very
happy one. 1t was pang when I said
to my wife, 81 mustleave you, my love,
for short time-only long enough to
pay my dear old daddy visit" l left
my business In her charge. 1t was a
voyage of business and pleasure, for ]
went to Paris to buy goods.
Poor old daddy There was the same
magpie in the wicker-work basket, and
he saluted me, for lie remembered me.
When was little boy stuck tail of
false feathers on him with some cobbler'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 re.
cent date. There was hardly a change
in the room. There hung fathers old
watch, as big as saucer, ticking away,
with spray of lockwood over it for
luck. There was on the shelf the same
old earthenware Jug. The handle 1
broke one unfortunate day, and a piece
of leather was bound round il, and it
hung on nail by thong. He had the
same awl in his hand-at least it was the
same handle, for once [ came near get
ting thrashing for having whitfield it.
Even an old almanac of a year long gone
past was there, tackled to the wall by
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
leather on last. You could count one,
two, three, four between the hammer
ings. In my time it was rata tat, like
drum beating, with no interval be-
tween the strokes. At a glance, for he
was king of shoemakers, he could 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 1 saw his
hand tremble, then he pushed up his
great steel-rimmed speetacles and the
tears ran down his cheeks as he rose and
tottered and then fell into my arms. How
we kissed one another. my SOD, my
SOP, you never would have succeeded
had you not been a good shoemaker;
you snever 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, added. Then I kicked
over his work bench and said, mo more
work for you, old pappy, for am rich.
l have wife; have a baby-a boy
baby, named after you and you are to
take the ars-hrst-class -to-m morrow or
the day afterward and come post-haste
ont Of the cid country 10 California, so
that grandchlld shall sit on your knee,
and you shall teach him to be honest and
pious, and to love you" "And may /
not make him good shoemaker Z" he
asked. But you go too fast. Let me
think over it. You ask me to leave this
old Luxembourg, where | was born. l
should never see again the grave where
your mother, my good wife, has slept
for these thirty-odd years. l don't
know. l am very old. l should be
in the way. love my old trade. Do
they wear shoes in California May l
cobble there? | assure you, though
the hog bristles bother me just little at
times, and my hammer moves Just a
trihe slower, still can turn out very
decent job. | wonder if cannot beat
you now. Come, let us try"
To please the old man took up bit
of work, and commenced on il. cit 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.
Ny remarks don't worry you? Still"
and he held in his shaky hands the old
boot near his eye, at will pass muster. +"
At last the blessed old man consented
to go with me. Next day we had feast
in the village. All the old chronies were
invited, the cooper, the matchmaker,
the butcher, the droyer, the tailor and
the tax-collector. The cure gave the
party his blessing. Oh, what a good
time we hadl The old man was radiant.
l was introduced tc every one as m.
-, the American shoemaker, who had
learned his trade in, the Luxembourg. ="
We kept it up all that afternoon and late
into the evening. / was feast as that
sleepy little town will remember for