52 History of Gutta-Percha Weullte.

 

And Hector looked up with shining eyes in the
face of the little boy, while he pulled at his rosin-
ends as if he would make the boot strong enough to
keep out evil spirits.

“T think it’s a fine thing to have to make nice
new shoes,” said Willie; “but I don’t think I
should like to mend them when they are soppy
and muddy and out of shape.”

“Tf you would take your share in the general
business, you mustn’t be particular. It won’t do
to be above your business, as they say: for my
part, I would say delow your business, There’s
those boots in the corner now. They belong to
your papa. And they come next. Don’t you
think ft’s an honour to keep the feet of such a good
man dry and warm as he goes about from morning
to night comforting people? Don’t you think it’s
an honour to mend boots for Am, even if ny
should be dirty?”

“Oh, yes—for papa!” said Willie, as if his papa
must be an exception to any rule.

“Well,” resumed Hector, “look at these great
lace-boots, I shall have to fill the soles of them
full of hobnails presently, They belong to the
best ploughman in the parish—John Turnbull.
Don’t you think it’s an honour to mend boots for
a man who makes the best bed for the corn to die
in?”

“| thought it was to grow in,” said Willie.