The Penn's Grove record., 1886-02-20
MARSHALLS


At the Intersection OF an alley and al
obscure street. in an outlying portion
of n of our great cities, stood a low
frame house. A narrow walk exten'
ded along the alley from the stree to
the side door of this house, above which
hung on a frame, swinging n creak-
ing In the high March wind, a sign
upon which could be read from the
street,
ANTHONY MARSHALL, SHOEMAKER.
In smaller letters beneath was an
nounced the fact that repairing was
neatly and promptly done. The repair.
ing was really Anthony Marskall's bus
mess. He had taken up the trade of a
shoemaker late in life, and he had
never risen in it above mending what
others made.
In one corner of the small room which
was his shop, stood a little oid'tashion-
ed melodeon. On one side of the me-
lodeon were two violins. On the other
a violencello and a large improyised
rack which was full of worn music.
On the wall above these was an exCcl'
lent old engraving OF Beethoven. Be
meath this was a large-sized daguerreo
type in a homemade frame of cones.
representing when you were just in
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
suggestion of a dimple. Suspended
from the same hook which held this
portrait hung a 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 instrument stood
and a door leading into the front part
of the house, was a small bentl for
hight carpentering. On the other side
of the door vas an open cupboard of
shelves, containing piles of newspapers,
a strap such as newsboys use in carry
Ing their packages securely from the
newspaper offices to their beats, "
several piles of unopened shoe backing
two shoe brushes, and four tTiangles 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, uncurtaiAed panes
of which the sun was streaming, sat
Anthony Marshall on the round leath-
ern seat of his shoemaker's bench.
"When other lips and Other
hearts, "-sang Anthony Marshall.
Observation-Disclosures rang
his broad little hammer.
"'Their tales-of love'"-
"Rat-tatl' went the hammer.
"'Shall tell,'"
The old man laid the hammer on the
bench at his side, pushed his spectacles
upon his bald head, and bent over the
boys coarse shoe he was half-soling,
with the peculiar close gaze of the near
sighted. Taking up his thin, sharp
knife, he proceeded to trim off the lS!t-
tered heads of the pegs; while, with
his under lip closed tightly over the
upper, he hummed through to It's close
the air which he had begun while he
was driving home the pegs.
His voice was a tribe thin, and bad
the occasional quaver peculiar to old
age; but there was in the |undertOne
singing and humming of "And you'll
remember mel a fine touch of finish
and expression; while now and again
there was a note SO pure, so sweet, so
thrilling, that the moulting canary in
the little cage hanging in the sun. stop
ped the dainty arrangement of its
feathers, and with smoothed plumage
and swelling throat, gave forth little
thrills in emulation.
An irregular, hurrylDg step turned
from the street down the little walk
along the alley. The shop door was
opened quickly, but quietly, and the
old shoemaker raised a surprised, ques'
tioning face to greet a lad, who, with
an eager, out-of-breath, ''Oh, Uncle
Tonyl" thrust himself with q ~sidelong
jerk into the room. The boy was lame
and misshapen.
The old man raised his finger, with a
warning glance toward the inner door.
The lads bright face fell a little, as
he asked:
us she very particular to-day In
Gle TonyP"
''Rather particular Tim" he said,
with a side turn of his head. But why
are you at homer"
"Such lucklsuch news, Uncle Tony!''
A cold, gray color SWEPT oyer the old
mans face. With drawn brow and
lips, and anxious eyes, he started up,
overturning in his agitation, the clamps
with a great crash; and dropping the
shoe he was mending, he exclaimed, as
he reached both of his poor old hands
toward the daguerreotype;
''Timl Timl have you found-found
her2 Heard anything Of Sara, TimY"
All of the bright light faded from
the boys face, as he shook his head
slowly, and said, sadly:
"Not that, Uncle Tony; not SO good
as that! But then, Uncle Tony, my
news is real good-common good, you