This shoemaker was Buttons. Was not this a charming way for two brothers to meet?
The pocket into which Nutcracker dropped was a very poor pocket,—soiled and patched, as I said; but Nutcracker had not been in it five minutes when he felt—how shall I tell you? It is not easy to describe feelings, but this shoemaker, who walked in the biting wind with no overcoat and his hands in his pockets, had warmth and sparkle in his heart that made Nutcracker feel brighter, though he could not tell why. There were Christmas trees on all corners, and Christmas wreaths piled on the stands, and at every tree and wreath Buttons warmed more and more. There were women going home from market, with a broad grin on their faces, and a drum or a little bedstead on the top of the cranberries and turkey and Buttons laughed back at them as he walked, whistling and looking around him; and splendid ladies came smiling out of the shops, and Buttons smiled at them; till between the signs of Christmas and the pleasant faces he got in such a glow that Nutcracker would hardly have said that he needed an overcoat.
All this time Buttons walked very fast and very straight till he came to a certain shop with a low door. Outside of this door was a clothes stand, and on this stand hung an overcoat, marked “Only Five Dollars.”
Buttons stopped. “Now,” said he to himself, “I need an overcoat. I have got five dollars in my pocket. Shall I buy this overcoat?”
Then Buttons imagined himself in the overcoat. His coat-tails would not fly out, and of course he could not put his hands in his pockets; and if not, where should he put them? Buttons took another look at the coat. It was certainly good for five dollars.
“But,” said Buttons, “if I buy it they will have no Christmas dinner, and Ma Nutcracker has set her heart on chicken and pudding. My little wife will never know the difference between Christmas and any other day. Poor Pepin, in his bed, will never know any difference. I shall come home in my brutal overcoat and that will be all.”
Then he began checking off on his fingers like this: “A dressing-gown for father, a shawl for mother, a new gown for the little wife, goodies for the children, a box of paints for Pepin, and the dinner.” Then he gave a little sigh, and, putting his hands again in his pockets, walked away as fast as he came. Do you suppose that he bought all these things with the five-dollar gold-piece? Nutcracker could not see, of course, but he thought not, for how could he?
Buttons lived upstairs, in a mean little house in a dirty street. His rooms were small, and they were crowded. There were old Mr. and Mrs. Nutcracker, who never forgot that they had been king and queen, and that Buttons’ wife was a shoemaker’s daughter, and never remembered that Buttons had returned their cruelty with kindness, and I think were not very nice people to live with. There was Pepin, who had been hurt, poor boy! in escaping from the palace, and who had never risen since from his bed. There was Buttons’ pleasant-faced wife; there were three fat children; there was the holly-bush, which had grown into a great tree; and there was—Nutcracker did not know what—but something, he was quite sure, for which he had been searching all his life.
The three fat children seized upon Buttons; one by each hand and one by his coat-tails.
“Ah!” said Buttons, pretending to groan. “I am so tired. Let the best child look outside of the door and see what he finds.”