“Where now, Wallace?” asked Mr. Duwell as he met his son one bright afternoon.
The boy was carrying a bundle under his arm.
“Mother sent me over to the shoemaker’s,” replied the boy.
“I am glad I ran across you,” said Mr. Duwell; “I have an errand over in that direction; I’ll walk along with you.”
“Oh, all right, father. Mother said she wished she could ask you about my shoes. We could not make up our minds whether they were worth half-soling or not.”
“Why not talk the matter over with the shoemaker?” said Mr. Duwell.
“I suppose I shouldn’t have let them get so worn before taking them to Mr. Shoemaker’s,” remarked Wallace.
“As mother says, ‘A stitch in time saves nine,’” remarked Mr. Duwell.
“By the way, father,” continued Wallace, “isn’t Mr. Shoemaker’s name a good one for a cobbler?”
Mr. Duwell smiled. “Very good, indeed; but really it isn’t so strange as it seems. Many years ago, when people did not have two names, they became known by the names of the trades they followed. For instance, John the baker became John Baker, and later Mr. Baker; so also the tailor became Mr. Taylor; the mason, Mr. Mason; the carpenter, Mr. Carpenter.”