Middletown transcript., 1894-11-24

you VIII ody-duu now GnaC ITayeC
shoe became his know not; for often
though he has told me, the tale is never
twice the same. When such is his odd
mood, he will weave me strange his
tories of the shoe, and if I would be
sad they are sportive, and when one
makes me merry he will give it tragic
ending, for such is the nature of tue
man. Sometimes he is not consistent
which he quantity explains, is because he
has only one of the shoes; and he will ar
que that inanimate objects accustomed
to the married state, such as shoes
and gloves and spectacles, mourn the
loss of their mate even as Christians
do, which he proves, should l smile, by
asking whether, though previously
hard workers, they are ever, if separ-
ated, of much more use in the world.
Nor is that the only hard question he
asks me; for when tell him that all
his stories of the shoe cannot he true,
he demands of me which of them is
necessarily false, and then 1 have no
answer. Perhaps you, too, will be
dumb to that question after you have
listened to me, if such be your pleas
ure, while l rereat little of what he
tells me in the twilight, as we sit by
the fire looking at the little bronze
shoe.
A hundred and one years and six
months ago, says my friend, who is
scrupulously exact about dates where
they are of no consequence, that shoe
and its partner got their first glimpse
Of the world. They sat all day in a
shoemaker's window in the Strand,
looking out upon the great fair which
human beings provide for the entertain
ment of the articles that have the luck |
to get seat in shopkeepers' windows,
instead of being hung up inside on
strings or hidden away in boxes. They |
were very dainty pair, made for the
feet of some Cinderella with a god
mother, and many ladies stopped to |
look at them who passed st. Paul's |
without giving it aglance. But there |
was little dressmaker who loved these |
shoes as no other loved them, and she
admiring them so often that they got |
to know her and wondered why she
did not come in and buy. You see,
they had as yet no knowledge of the
world, and thought that hard-work-
ing dressmaker ought to have them,
Just because she had such pretty feet.
They did not understand that beauti-
full shoes are not for feet that fit them,
but for purses that can buy them.
She was not SO very little, this dress
maker who hungered for the tiny bronze
shoes: but she was only girl, and she
had to sew for her life all day and often |
all night, and that, my friend says is
why he calls her the little dressmaker.
I suppose he means that she was so
small compared to the foes a poor girl
has to fight in a great city. But though |
she was poor, she was not unhappy.
She not only made pretty dresses of
rich material for fine ladies, such as
the shoes were meant for, but pretty,
cheap frocks for herself, in which she
was delightful to look at. A really
pretty girl always looks best in some
thing very ordinary, and really plain
ones look their worst in silk and vel
vet. These, be noted, are my friends
views. The little dressmaker never
ouite rose to them. She often smiled
with satisfaction when she saw herself |
in mirror; but as often she sighed |
over her sewing, wishing she could see
herself in the fine brocades that were
meant for some fine lady. As it is the |
duty of all women to look as nice as
possible, the little dressmaker cannot
be blamed for wishing sometimes that
she had ten thousand year. Had she
had that sum, her nrsC purchase would
have been the shoes. She often thought
of them at night, and looked at her
pretty feet and counted her money, and
then shook her head mournfully.
The little dressmaker had only one
relative in the whole wide world, and
he was a boy of twelve-six or eight
wears Younger than herself, He was
her brother, and they lived together in
shabby room that looked bright for
no other reason than because these two
loved zach other. Will ran errands for
anyone who would employ him, and he
had such an appetite that he often felt
compelled to apologize for it. The lit
t1e dressmaker could have bought the
shoes to which she had given her heart,
of the consuming