The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-03-13

Confessed his love, and they were wed,
Thanks to the Leap-Year caper.
Said he: Twas easy; your address
Josephine Pollard, In N. 7. Independent.
-
ANTHONY M~ARSHALL'S DAUGHTER.
At the intersection of an alley and an
obscure street, in an outlying portion of
one of u great cities, stood a low frame
house. A narrow walk extended along the
alley from the street to a side door of this
house, above which hung, IN an iron frame,
swinging and creaking in the high March
wind, a sign, upon which could be read
from the street,
ANTHONY MARSHALL, SHOEMAKER"
In small letters beneath was announced
the fact that repairing was neatly and
promptly done. The repairing was really
Anthony Marshall's business. He had
taken up the trade of a shoemaker late in
life, and had never risen in it above memo
ing what others made.
In one corner of the small room, which
was his shop, stood a little old-fashioned
melodeon. On one side Of the melodeon
were two violins in their cases. On the
other, a ~violincello and a large improvised
rack which was full of worn music. On
the wall above these hung an excellent old
engraving of Beethoven. Beneath this was
o large-siZed daguerreotype in a home
made frame of cones, representing, when
you were in just the right light, a young
girl of perhaps twelve years, with a broad,
full brow, great, questioning, velvety eyes,
a wide, smiling, joyous mouth and a firm,
square little chin, softened by just the sug-
gestion of a dimple. Suspended from the
same hook which held this portrait hung q
girls. hat, battered and worn, the broad
band of which still held a large faded red
rose and a bunch of withered green leaves.
Between where the instruments stood
and q dnnr IoodtnO into tho frAnf norf Of
the house was a small bench for light car
pentering. On the other side of the door
was an open cupboard of shelves, contain
ing piles of newspapers, a strap such as
newsboys use in carrying their packages
securely from the newspaper offices to their
''beats," several piles of unopened boxes
OF shoe backing, two shoe brushes, and
four triangles on a shelf by themselves,
ranged along neatly in the order of their
different sizes.
Near the one window, which looked out
on the alley to the south and through the
small, uncurtained panes of which the sun
was streaming, sat Anthony Marshall on
the round leathern seat Of his shoemaker's
bench.
"tWhen other lips and other hearts, u
sang Anthony Marshall.
Observation-Disclosures" rang his
broad little hammer.
9.Their tales-of love'"-
~Rat-tat" went the hammer.
"tShall tell"
Then the old man laid the hammer on the
bench at his side; pushed his spectacles
upon his bald head and bent over the
coarse boys shoe he was half-soling with
the peculiar close gaze of the near-sighted.
Taking up his thin, sharp knife he pro.
ceeded to trim off the battered heads of the
pegs; while with his under lip closed
tightly over the upper, he hummed through
to its close the air which he had begun
while driving home the pegs.
His voice was a trife thin, and had the
occasional quaver peculiar to & but
there was in the undertone singing and
humming of "And you'll remember meD 9
fine touch of finish and expression; while
now and again there was a note so pure, sc
sweet, so thrilling, thatthe moulting canary
in the little cage hanging in the sun
stopped the dainty arrangement of it.
feathers, and with smoothed plumage anG
swelling throat, gave forth little trills il
emulation.
the street down the little walk along the
alley. The shop door was opened quickly
but quietly, and the old shoemaker raised
a surprised, questioning face to greet a lac
who with an eager out-of-breath, so Uncle
Tonyi" thrust himself with a sideling jerl
into the room. The boy was lame ant
m~isshapen.
The old man raised his finger with 6
warning glance toward the inner door.
The lads bright face fell a little as h
asked:
SIS she particular to-day, Uncle Tony?'
"Rdther particular, Tim," with a sid,
turn of the head, "but why are you homer
"Such luck - news, Uncle Tonyp
A cold gray color swept over the ole
mans face. With drawn brow and lip.
and anxious eyes he started up, overturn
ing in his agitation the clamps with
crash; and, dropping the shoe he wa
mending, he exclaimed as he reached boil
his poor old hands toward the daguerreo
type:
Heard anything of Sara, Tim"
All the light faded from the boys fac
as he shook his head slowly, and said
sadly:
"Not that, Uncle Tony; not so good a
chat! But then, Uncle Tony, my news i
real good; common good, you know. Ant
you couldn't guess what it is in a yearU
The old man slowly set the clamps il
their place by the bench; picked up tn
shoe and the stick of blackening wit
which he was finishing the edge of tn
sole; n sat down.
He looked at Tim. The boys disap
pointed face touched his sensitive, gentl
heart, and he at once assumed a look O
interested inquiry, though his face wa
still very pale.
"Well, Tim, if 1 can't guess, tell me.n.
Tim hitched himself into a chair and be
gan to tell his news.
swell, you know Uncle Tony, how W
was talkin' yesterday about the op'rer, an
about the time when you used to play i
the orchestrer, at that Lane Theaterin Ior
DOM"
Eyes, Tim, in the orchestra at Drur
Lane Theater."
That's it. Well, this mornin' after
= had sold out, l was just a-wishin' an
a-wishin' that l could get twenty shines /
do, as I did last year, so we could go ag'ir
for, oh, it was jest heavenly! and 1 we
a-standin' before the main entrance of til
Grand Hotel, and a-thinkin' about ths
op'rer we went to last year and a-whistiil
the theme you learned me and we play t.
gether,, when two awful swell gentleme
came along, one of 'em with his boots a
splashed. l said to him: Have a shin
sir! you need it,"
"He put his boot on the box and SAID
'Where did you learn what you were jul
op'rer, last year, and Uncle Tony learne
me to play it, Then he says: is yor
uncle a musician Says L: sYo
jest bet he lisp Where does he play?' say
he, and I told him you played at hom
Sat home y said the gentleman raising h
handsome brown eyes and raised his fiji
straight brows as high as possibl
"1sn't he a professional musician?
guess he is,' said 1, but he mends sho,
now, and we play. evenings. | live wit
him. 'Um-mp sale the gentleman. IS
your uncle plays Wagner's music ar
mends shoes, does he" Then he turne
to the other gentleman and said: There
another phase of American life for you
book, Patton.'"
"Then do you know, Uncle Tony, he p,
~ his other boot, and lending his hea
with a queer kind of a smile, said: And {
you anticipate going to the op'rer tn
yearr i'll can get Shines enough for tic
cts in the .'loft" for Uncle Tony and MI
said !. 'O-hol so you furnish your Urc
Tony with op'rer tickets, do your said ,