THE COBBLER’S END.
A large crowd of people was standing in and around a small shoemaker’s shop on Third Street. Elbowing my way to the inner circle, I found the excitement was over a man who had committed suicide. He was lying upon the floor, his hands still grasping a shot gun, with which he had blown off the top of his head.
I learned it was the shoemaker, and that he had committed the rash act because the lady on whom his affections were set had seen fit to choose another for her partner. Worst of all, it was a tailor who, to use a common expression and one to the point, had cut him out. They were both charmed with the comeliness of the young woman, and whenever an opportunity offered, were in the habit of throwing sheep’s eyes in the direction of her apartment. The lady seemed to grow more interested in the situation, and even went so far as to smile archly upon him.
The tailor, who had never received such a compliment from so pretty a woman before, was quite carried away with joy. He felt that his love was returned, and from that moment the world presented a different aspect. It was not even a new picture in an old frame, or vice versâ, but was new throughout.
Even the old breeches on his lap seemed to suddenly undergo a strange metamorphosis. The stout, rough material, over which he had lately been bending with crippled fingers and sprung needle, in the twinkling of an eye seemed transformed into a golden fleece, through which the waxed thread flew like chain-lightning through a cotton umbrella. To have an interview was now his only study, and where there’s a will there’s a way.
One day a small boy was pressed into service and intrusted with a letter to the woman in whom his whole heart seemed wrapped. She received it safely, and duly by return of post broke the delightful intelligence to the tailor that his love was returned, and ended the epistle by requesting him to call.
Hardly had “seeling night scarfed up the tender eye of pitiful day,” when the tailor with palpitating heart ascended the rickety stairs that led to the apartment. How he was received there is no knowing, but it is apparent to all he soon ingratiated himself with the handsome damsel, as the sequel shows.
The knight of the thimble and needle had saved considerable money and was comely to look upon, while she was both free and willing to wed, so the courtship was a short one.
As it happened, the tailor had received an offer from a business firm in the country that day, and as delays were considered dangerous, they decided to be married at once and start for their new home. It chanced that neither the lover nor his fair inamorata were troubled with enough luggage to require the services of an express wagon, and it wasn’t long before their traps were stuffed into sacks and bundles ready for removal.