Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1883-09-19

back, and he did SO. I resumed
my old place. There was a,
auctioneer among his customers with tn
tenderest feet ever saw, and as am
shoemaker, that explains all my goot
luck. This auctioneer had been grum
bling ever since I left San Francisco
When he saw me he was delighted: "a
least now," he said, 81 am out of my
great mysery. I shall limp no longer.
At once I made him a pair of shoss, ant
he was delighted.
One day he said to me: II had al
auction yesterday, and put up, with
out getting single bidder, a lot of very
fine French boots. They won't sell be
cause there is glut Of boots on tn.
market. They we're imported a yea
ago, but the shape is out of fashion now
1t was square toe then, now it is {
round one. Do you buy them ?" "HoV
much ?" I asked. Make your owl
price," But I have no money" "Tha
makes no difference; you may have then
on credit; pay me when you can."
went to look at these cases of boots
They we're of the finest quality, and ex
cellent as to make. Some of them were
cavalry boots-but such as only dandy
horsemen or general officers wear.
Remember, I AN good shoemaker and
know my trade. I bought these boots
at 81 pair. The leather alone was
worth twice that. At night I used to
work on them. made the square toes
pointed-for I am good shoemaker.
Some of them I cut down into bootes.
Oh! I worked night after night on them
after hours. Then I 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. GLOW much -
Fifteen dollars" Then gentleman
on fne horse came by and looked from
his horse at the boots, and he tied up
his horse and asked, Chow much o.
"Twenty dollars" He put a double
eagle down. I must have made 81, 500
clear on those boots. Then I found
more of them-a mine of these boots,
and put in my pocket $4,000 in three
weeks. ! worked on Tor a year and
made money in my trade steadily, for
am good shoemaker. Then got mar
ried in San Francisco to a woman I low
ed, and my married life has been very
happy one. It was paDg when I said
to my wife, 81 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 a
voyage of business and pleasure, for
went to Paris to buy goods.
Poor old daddy! There was the same
maybe in the wicker-work basket, and
he saluted me, for he remembered me.
When was little boy I stuck tail of
false feathers on him with some cobbler's
wax. He never forgot me, and ruf1led
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
broke one unfortunate day, and o piece
of leather was bound round it, and it
hung on a nail by thong. He had the
same awl in his hand-at least it was the
same handle, for once I 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 of
leather on last. You could count one,
two, three, four between the hammer
inga. In m time it was rat-tat-tat, like
drum beating, with no interval be-
1 tho otr0bno nlo h@
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 I saw his
hand trembie, then he pushed up his
great steel-1immed spectacles and the
tears ran down his cheeks as he rose and
tottered and then fell into my arms. How
we kissed one another. "My SOB, my
SOD, you never would have succeeded
had you not been good shoemaker;
you inever scamped anything; you did
the best you could all the time" was
what he said when I told him of my
good luck. "Like my dear old daddy
did before me-" I added. Then I kicked
over his work bench and said, "No more
work for you, old pappy, for am rich.
I have wife; I have baby-a boy
baby, named after you-and you are to
take the s-tirst- class-to-morrow or
the day afterward and come post-baste
out of the cid 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" "Ana 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. I
should never see again the grave where
for these thirty odd years. I don't
know. I am very old. 1 should be
in the way. I love my old trade. Do
they wear shoes in California May I
cobble there? I assure you, though
the hog bristles bother me just little at
times, and my hammer moves Just q
trifle slower, still I can turn out very
decent job. I wonder if I cannot beat
you now. Come, let US try
To please the old man took up bit
Of work, and commenced on it. cit is
we'll done" said father admiringly. II
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"
and he held in his shaky hands the old
boot near his eye, cit 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 drover, the tailor and
the tax collector. The cure gave the
party his blessing. Oh, what good
time we hadl The old man was radiant.
I was introduced to every one as I'M.
-, the American shoemaker, who had
learned his trade in the Luxembourg. I"
We kept it up all that afternoon and late
into the evening. I was feast as that
sleepy little town will remember for
many day. just occasionally noticed
that the old man weakened when some
ancient chum took him by the hand to
bid him good. bye. Then I would say:
Dear daddy, its your grandchild that
claims you. How the deuce do You ever
expect that he will ever be q good shoe
maker without your teaching him p