BY THE AUTHOR OF "MEPHISTOPHELES IN ENGLAND."
"Oh! the world's nothing more than a cobbler's stall, Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall; Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! The great and the rich Never want a new stitch; They fit like a glove before and behind, Are polished and neat, and always well lined, And thus wear till they come to life's ending: But the poor and the mean Are not fit to be seen,— They are things that none would borrow or steal, Are out at the toes, and down at the heel, And are always beyond any mending. So the world's nothing more than a cobbler's stall, Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer! And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall; Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer!
"Jacob!—Jacob Kats, I say!" exclaimed a shrill female voice.
"Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer!" continued the singer.
"Are you deaf, mynheer?"
"And mankind are the boots and the shoes on the wall."
"Do leave off your singing, and open the door; the burgomaster will be angry that I have stayed so long."
"Stitch, stitch, hammer, hammer, hammer!"
"You are enough to provoke the most patient girl in Dort. Open the door, Jacob Kats! Open the door this instant, or you shall never have any more work from me!"
"Ya?" drawled the cobbler interrogatively, as he slowly opened the door of his stall.