Year: 1864

Translated from the French.


A POOR cobbler lived next door to a
retail wine seller, who, the better to draw
the sous out of the pockets Of his neigh
bors, put up splendid gilt sign, with the
names of the most famous wines upon it
at full length. Now this was terrible
temptation to the cObbler, who, however,
the better resisted it, as he did not know
how to read. But not content with the
gilt sign, the wine seller had two punches
Of ripe, tempting grapes painted to the
/ life, and just beneath two goblets run
ming over with wine. This is readable,
and the poor eobbler's mouth Watered
It was, however, in vain to resist, tor be
found himself every moment trying to
find some excuse for turning his eyes to-
wards his neighbor's shop, and at last in
he goes. Four sous can't kill body,
thought he, and two tumblers full of wine
we're soon under his jacket So it was
the next day and the next but one day
he happened to have no money.


so neighbOr, said the wine seller,
! you don't take a drop to-day?


why, to tell the truth replied the
cObbler, I would if had the change.


Never mind said the wine seller;
'oome and take drink, you can pay me
some other time.


But the cobbler's paying time never
came, and the wine seller dunned him
over and over and over again and got
nothing but promises; the cobbler drink
ing every day as usual, for it is pity to
lose so good a customer, thought the
wine seller. Everybody knows (Which
everybody means all ones acquaintan-
ce) that on Sunday all Paris, high and
low, dress in their best, and find amuse-
ment where they can. Now, our cob
bler's best suit was gray coat with pla-
ted buttons, sky blue pantaloOns, shining
boots, and a white hat, and the meroiless
wine seller found means to get the latter
together with the grey coat with plated
buttons, into his possession, and swore
that he would not give them up until he
was paid every sou. The cobbler pray.
ed, begged entreated him to release then
but for that day, for he had. contracted
dance the first cot;llion with his sweet
heart, and was engaged to dine at hi
/ cousins, but it would not do; the wint
seller bid him go about his business
which the cobbler literally did, for h
went home and began to work and sinl
with all his might, to drown the noise o
his neighbor's violin, and at night h
went to bed as melancholy as any cob
bier in Paris. La vengeance est ls plasi
dss dsuz, says the prOverb, and our cob
q bier awoke the next morning as gay a
D ever, for he had thought Of a way to re
venge himself. He threw out before hi
door a few bits of bread which his neigh
boris fowls very kindly picked up.
! The next day the same thing with tn
r same success, and the third and fourtl
e days the fowls were willing to enter hi
shop, and save him the trouble of feed
ing without No sooner were all With
= than the fowls were prisoners, and tn
a cobbler fell to work and filed pillo'
e case with feathers, which he plucke


clean off the poor creature, one by on,
and sent them perishing home naked
they were born.


One sleeps well on a good conscience
but the cobbler found his pillow of r'
s venge quite as soothing, for he slel


soundly upon it. The wine seller, hOv
: ever, soon woke him with loud knocl


ing.


'Halloa, neighbor, somebody has bee
o picking ny fowls, and they say they we


seen coming out of your shop
ID Pray, neigbbor, who told you so
asked the cObbler.