Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1892-04-15
GOLD-HEELED SHOES.
BY GEORGE I. PUTNAM.


ga million minutel Gold heels
on my shoesl' A tall spare woman
bobbed up from the BURBERRY patch
and looked around half guilty, then
drew treasured breath, for 10 one
was within ear-shot. "Truc as /
stand here" sho said, addressing a
mingled multitude of ferns, rocks and
berry bushes, ''some day Ill do it.
And when Pm worth a million o min
ute, I'll have gold heels TO my shoes"
She shut her lips tightly, dcfying
more thoughts 10 escape; but even
then the line of her mouth was pleas
ant. She knelt and indusiriously
stripped the low bushes. holding her
pail beneath with an experienced hand
to catch the dropping berries. She
had Is quarts TO deliver at sunset, and
the terms of her contract left no time
for monologue.
This was Abby-"M Abby to the
children, "Aunt" Abby among the
sick, simply Abby to ordinary adults.
People did not trouble themselves
about her surname. They did not
even think much about her, but accept
cd her as their just due from friend
~ Providence. Children discovered
her living in little house in the edge
of Pomfre., and spoke OF Miss Abby
as all acquisition. Then some sick
man, yearning for herb remedies, was
gratilied by her and thereafter declared
Aunt Abby had saved his life. The
wise those who moiled with an eye
single to the inrolling dollar-began
by nistrusting her sincerity, and
ended by questioning her mental bal
ance. They did not perceive how
one could live by works non-resultant
in stipulated wage.
Abby moved towards competency
as steadfastiy as did the wise, but by
different path, plcasanter and as d.
rect There were happy, kindly faces
along her way. And if they did not
always comprehend her, they at least
nodded and smiled encouragingly as
she passed. To such one, brghten-
ing some dark turn of the path, she
would say:
"You wait till l get my gold-hec,ed
shoes. Then can smile for you.u
"Real gold, Abby?" inquired the
practical one.
eyes, indeed. Why not? When
you're worth million minute, you
can do that sort of thing"
AT sunset she walked, fatigued, 10
tho village store. and delivered The
berries.
"And here's your pay" said the
storekceper. Eight cents quart,
fifteen quarts, dollar twenty. What
you going to do with so much money,
Abby?' with an expcctant obique
glance for the benefit of some dozen
loLngers.
at all goes towards those gold
heeled Shoes" said Abby, checrily.
Then the loungcrs followed the store
keeper in laugh.
"Abby's all right" said he, after
she went out. "You don't have To
measure her berries. But She's
little queer. A fellow has to laugh at
her now and again."
Abby ploughed her way homo along
the dusty July road. "One twenty,
one twenty" she repeated. 'There's
days work for you. There's another
peg in yonr gold-heeled shoes. They're
coming, coming"
She invigorated herself, mind and
body, by this alchemic formula.
"Gold-heeled shoes 10 the slorekeopcr
49, -" was " faSuly IOr tNclr
diversion. To Abby the words were
mere quantatlve signs.
The widow Barker, with her way
ward son Jim, were Abby's ncares:
neighbors. Barker pere had served in
the navy. After his death small
pension came regularly, afIording the
widow meagre living. 1t was her
sole support, for Jim was thorn.
Upright mothers quoted him to chill
dren as a warning. He even pricked
Abby until she was half minded TO
report his lapses to his mother, whom
she would fall in a temper and rate
herself roundy.
'Gold shoes, indcell don't de-
serve leather. AS if that woman didn't
have trouble enough without its being
piled on freel Providence has been
toe good to me; there's nobody to
mourn over; nobody 10 worry over.