The Shoemaker's Daughters CHAPTER 2.
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"Did you ever see such a proud, lazy, stuck up somebody as Genevieve is?" remarked Ike, one day, to the boys in the shop.
"I do believe she's ashamed of her own father, because he's a shoemaker!" responded Tom.
"Humph! I know she is!" said Bill.
"And there's Gertrude, too. She never greets me in the street on Sundays. But I always speak to her as polite as a dancing master," said Ike. "I like to cut the comb of such people."
"Aren't you afraid to do so?" asked Tom.
"Afraid, indeed! and what should I be afraid of? She can't help herself. Suppose she tells the old man? She'll only get a flea in her ear for her pains. He's not going to do anything."
"Jim said he heard Millie say, that all three of the fine young ladies had a tip-top tea-party with the old man and woman about the noise of the lapstone when they had company. Old Hardamer was as stiff as you please, and said he'd set them all to binding shoes before a week, if they didn't shape up."
"I wonder if that's a fact! Are you sure Millie told you so, Jim?"
"All I know about it, Ike, is, that Millie said so, and I suppose she knows," said the little fellow, in half apparent reluctance to make any communication on the subject.
"Ah, very well!" responded Ike. "They shall have lapstone enough after this. Won't I lay it on with a vengeance, when the young doctors, and lawyers, and counter-hoppers are about!"
"They're what they call accomplished, aren't they?" said Bill Grimes. "What do they mean by that, I wonder?"
"You're green, Bill, if you don't know what accomplished means."
"I reckon I do know, Ike, what it means. But I can't for my life understand what it means when applied to old Hardamer's three eldest daughters! If it means to play on the piano, why the wife of black Jake, the barber, is accomplished, for Jake says she can play the piano to kill. And she can beat either of our young ladies, if I'm any judge of music, for I heard her once, and you know we hear them until we are sick and tired. If it means to dress up in all kinds of flim-flammeries, Jake's wife is just as accomplished, for she sports as much finery as they do. Or, may be it is to sit all day in the parlor, and do nothing; if so, Mrs. Morton's Spanish poodle is just as much entitled to be called accomplished as they are. I must find some new meaning to the word, before I can understand its application."
"Nonsense, Bill! you're soft in the upper story. To be accomplished, means to dance, and talk poetry, and all that sort of thing. A perfectly accomplished lady can talk nonsense, and to save your life, you can't tell it from good sense; it will come out so gracefully. She will tell you that you are a fool or a puppy, in terms that leave you at a loss to know whether she intends to compliment or insult you. A strange animal, I can tell you, is an accomplished lady."
"Of course, then," said Bill, "our upstairs misses are not accomplished ladies."
"No, nor never will be in full. They can ape a few of the graces, but can never be accomplished inside and out. A shoemaker's daughter, Bill, always seems to hear the sound of the lapstone, and it makes her both look and feel awkward. She will do well enough if she is content to be herself; but the moment she tries to step above the path in which she walks easily and naturally, she will get on uneven ground, and wobble from side to side like a duck — everybody will laugh at her."
"That's a law of nature, Ike."
"Of course it is, Bill. Shoemakers' daughters are as good as anybody else's daughters, until they grow ashamed of being shoemakers' daughters — and then they ought to be despised, and are despised."
On that same night it so happened that the girls had company, and as it was in the summer time, all the doors in the house were left open for the free circulation of air. The boys, of course, did not work at night, and the girls fondly imagined themselves freed from the dreadful annoyance of the hammer and lapstone. But they were not to be so highly favored.
"Where are you going tonight, Ike?" said one of the boys to this young ringleader of mischief.
"I'm going to stay at home, I believe."
"Stay at home! Why what's in the wind, Ike? It's a new kick for you to stay home at night."
"Why, didn't you see that the girls were all furbelowed up at supper time. They're going to set up for company — doctors, lawyers, merchants, etc."
"Well, what of that?"
"Nothing, only I need a pair of shoes, and must beat up the soles tonight."
"You're not in earnest, Ike?"
"Indeed and I am though, I want these young gentlemen to hear the sound of the lapstone."
"The old man will walk into you, if you try that trick."
"The Iron Chest Society meets tonight, you know, and he never stays away."
"True enough, but the old woman will get after you."
"Well, suppose she does; the mischief will all be done before she can waddle into the back shop."
"But I wouldn't if I was you, Ike."
"Wouldn't you, indeed! But I would though."
"As long as the girls hate the sound of the hammer so badly, I'd let them alone."
"Why, what's come over you, Tom? You're grown mighty feeling all at once! But you needn't preach to me! I know what I'm about. Won't I make the old stone ring a merry tune though!"
As Ike had supposed, about eight o'clock, a young Mr. Willis who had just opened a dry-goods store, came in to see Miss Genevra; and shortly after a student of medicine, a wild disorderly fellow, who had an idea that old Hardamer had a few of the "gooseberries," as he called them, dropped in to renew an acquaintance recently made at a party with Miss Genevieve. His name was Anderson. A Mr. Wilkins also called, but as he was a young shoemaker, just in business, who did not think himself above shoemakers' daughters, he met with a very cold reception.
"It's quite a pleasant evening Miss Gertrude," remarked Mr. Wilkins, the last comer, as he seated himself beside that young lady.
"Yes, sir," she replied, in a chilling tone, and with a face as free from smiles as a wintry sky.
"Not much danger of a gust, I reckon," he continued, glancing out of the window.
"No, sir."
"It's been rather an oppressive day."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you been to the museum, lately?" continued Wilkins, varying his attack. "They have an Egyptian mummy there, the first ever exhibited in this city."
"No, sir," replied the monosyllabic lady, as coldly and indifferently as possible.
Still Wilkins was not to be driven off into silence, although he felt awkward and embarrassed.
"That's a beautiful painting there of Virginia."
"Yes, sir."
"Were you ever electrified?"
"No, sir."
"You've no idea what a strange feeling it produces. You feel just as if your shoulders were jerked apart. How singular it is, that in a circle of even twenty, every one feels the shock at the same instant. They electrified a big negro there the other night. It was fun, I assure you! Mr. Peale charged the machine pretty strongly, and asked the fellow to put his hand on the knob. He, of course, did as requested, in all obedience. 'Now take hold of that chain a minute,' said Mr. Peale, and the negro obeyed. I thought the whole company would have died laughing to see the fellow jump and roll up his eyes. He couldn't understand it no how at all."
Even this failed to interest the young lady; and she did not accord a single word in response.
During this vain effort on the part of Mr. Wilkins to get up a conversation, the tongues of the other girls were running at a rapid rate; and as they grew more and more animated, their voices were raised to a higher pitch.
"He's a splendid writer, though, isn't he, Mr. Anderson, that Mr. Byron?" said Genevieve. "O I've a passion for him!"
"Lord Byron is certainly a poet of splendid powers," responded the young student.
"He's a lord, then, is he?"
"O yes, Miss."
"Well, I declare! I didn't know it before. I shall admire him more than ever."
"You've read his Bride of Abydos, I suppose," said Anderson.
"I haven't got that far yet," replied Genevieve, blushing a little.
"Then there's a treat yet in store for you. His Bride of Abydos is one of his most beautiful productions."
"I'll read it tomorrow, then; I won't wait till I get to it. He's the author of Grey's Elegy in a Country ChurchYard, isn't he?"
"Yes," said the polite student, "and it is one of his finest pieces."
"I've always admired that. Isn't it elegant where he says, 'Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air!'"
"Indeed it is," responded Anderson, a little cooled off. "You're fond of poetry, Miss Genevieve?"
"O I doat on it! It's a passion with me! I could read poetry from morning till night."
Rap, rap, rap — bang, bang, bang, suddenly came ringing up from the back shop with startling distinctness!
"Goody gracious me!" exclaimed Genevieve, suddenly thrown off her guard, and rising to her feet.
Anderson, with easy politeness, endeavored to carry on the conversation, as freely as if there was no deafening sound of lapstone and hammer ringing through the room. Not only Genevieve, but all the girls were terribly annoyed.
"That's quite a familiar sound," remarked Wilkins, in a quiet tone.
Gertrude looked at him as if she could have annihilated him.
"Your father is pretty busy now, I believe?"
"Sir?" said the young lady, with an offended air.
"Can't you give us something on the piano, Miss Genevra?" said Mr. Willis, who felt for the girls, and suggested the idea of music, as an antidote to the annoying sound below.
"Yes, I will play, if you wish me," responded Genevra, moving quickly towards the instrument. "What will you have?"
"Washington's March," said Willis.
Instantly Genevra struck the keys with full force, introducing the drum whenever she could manage to give it a deafening bang, and thus succeeded in drowning the noise of Ike's hammer. But marches, like everything else, must have an end; and, in the pause that followed, the ears of the poor girls were agonized by the terrible sound below.
Another tune was quickly called for, and during its performance, Genevieve left the room, and descended with rapid steps to the back shop.
"What do you mean, sir? you insolent wretch, you!" she half screamed to Ike, who, seated on his bench, with a shade over his eyes, was still hammering with all his might.
Ike looked up with a simple, bewildered air, but made no answer.
"What are you filling the house with this eternal din for, I want to know?"
"Nothing, Miss Genevieve, only I'm making myself a pair of shoes. You see I've got none fit to wear," poking up at the same time his foot, covered with an old shoe, the toe of which gaped like the mouth of a catfish.
"Why don't you make your shoes in the day-time, and not disturb everybody in the house at night?"
"Because I haven't got no time in the day."
"I'll tell Pa on you, so I will!" said the incensed young lady.
"Why, I'm not doing anything, Miss Genevieve," replied Ike, as demurely as possible. "But if it disturbs you, I'll do it in the morning." And so saying, he replaced his hammer upon his bench, pushed the stone under it, and threw off his pasteboard shade.
"Don't let me hear any more of this, remember that, sir!" and the offended beauty swept off so quickly as to lose the sound of Ike's humble, "No, Miss."
"It worked to a charm!" he exclaimed, as soon as Genevieve had retired; and hurrying on his jacket, he blew out the candle, and in a moment or two was in the street.
On the next morning, after breakfast, old Hardamer went into the back shop, and, standing before Ike, addressed him in a loud, angry tone with —
"What were you doing here last night, I want to know?"
"Only hammering out a shoe sole."
"Well, what business had you hammering out a shoe sole at night, this time of year?"
"I wanted a pair of shoes, sir!"
"That's a lie, sir! for it's not two weeks since you made yourself a pair."
This was a fact.
"You only did it to disturb the family, you imp of Satan! But I'll learn you a trick worth two of that! I'll let you see that you can't play off your pranks on everybody!"
And before Ike had time to do anything, Hardamer was laying it over his back and shoulders with a heavy stirrup. The old fellow was a cruel hand to flog when once excited, as the scarred and seamed backs of the boys bore ample testimony; and he was terribly passionate whenever he met with opposition.
Recovering himself from the surprise and confusion of so sudden an attack, and recalling his resolution to resist, Ike suddenly sprung from his bench, and driving his head full into the rotund abdomen of his master, sent him tumbling over backwards into the corner, among the rolls of leather.
Uttering a fierce oath, Hardamer sprang quickly to his feet, and made towards Ike. Blind and mad with passion the short thick, old fellow plunged like an enraged bull towards Ike, who coolly stepped aside, and by just advancing his foot a little, allowed him to tumble heels-over-head into the other corner of the shop. There he lay for some moments, so bewildered as to scarcely know whether he was on his head or his feet. But he soon began to understand the position of matters a little more clearly; and seeing Ike still standing boldly up in front of him, be arose, with a block of wood in each hand, and in the twinkling of an eye, launched them, one after the other, at Ike's head. But that chap had as quick an eye as his master, and readily dodged them.
"Two can play at that game, remember!" said Ike, picking up a shoe, and brandishing it in his hand.
For a moment Hardamer was utterly confounded. Implicit submission to his will, and the privilege of thrashing any of the boys whenever he pleased, had been prerogatives which no one had questioned for twenty or thirty years.
"Do you dare to threaten me? you scoundrel!" he at length said, moving towards Ike, his face dark with anger.
"Stand off, sir!" said Ike, retreating.
But Hardamer pressed forward. Finding that warning would not keep off his master, Ike let fly a piece of wood at his head, which just grazed his ear. In an instant the old fellow grappled with him, and they rolled over together on the floor. Bill and Tom looked on with anxious interest, both resolved to aid Ike, according to the compact, if there was any chance of his master's getting the best of the battle. All at once they saw Ike grow black in the face, and were shocked to perceive that both of Hardamer's hands were tightly clasped around his throat.
"The old scamp will kill him!" exclaimed Bill, springing forward, and throwing himself upon his master.
"Choke him off, Bill!" cried Tom, joining him on the instant.
Not taking the hint as quickly as Tom thought the nature of the case required, he clasped his own hands with a vigorous grip around Hardamer's throat, and held on until the master's hold relaxed from the neck of the now almost insensible boy.
Ike quickly revived, and the three boys retired from their not very pleasant proximity to the body of their master, and ranged themselves side by side, in an attitude of defiance.
"I'll murder the whole of you!" shouted Hardamer, rising to his feet, mad with passion. "What do you mean, you infernal scoundrels! Go to your work this instant! And you, Ike, walk off upstairs. I'm not done with you yet!"
"There's no particular use in my going upstairs," said Ike. "Because, you see, I'm not going to allow you to touch me again."
"Hold your tongue, you scoundrel!"
"Well, I was only saying that — "
"Hold your tongue, I say! Off, upstairs with you!"
"Can't go, sir," said Ike.
"We might as well all understand each other at once," now broke in Tom. "We've all resolved that we won't stand your miserable beatings any longer. We've had enough; and, as Ike says, are too old for that kind of fun now. If you'll treat us well, we'll work; but if you don't, we'll raise the very devil; so there now!"
Here was a state of things, the possibility of the existence of which had never entered the mind of Hardamer; and he felt utterly at a loss how to act. If he had followed the impulse by which he was prompted, he would have dashed in among them, and knocked right and left with blind fury; but he could not forget that these three nimble chaps before him, in whose determined faces there was no evidence of fear, had but a moment before proved too much for him.
"I can have you all cowhided by a constable!" he said, in a calmer voice.
"We have calculated all that," replied Tom, more respectfully, "and are prepared to act in that case too."
"I would like to know how you'd act in the officer's clutches. I guess you'd not like his cowhide much."
"I can tell you how we'll act," said Tom, in a determined voice. "We'll never wax another cord for you as long as we live. Mind, sir, we're not to be played with!" he continued, anxious to impress his master with a sense of their indomitable resolution, and thus avoid future contentions, which none of the boys had any desire to enter into.
Hardamer turned upon his heel, and went into the front shop, while the three rebels retired, each to his respective seat, and resumed their work. He was as much at a loss to know how to act, as they were to know how he would act. At one moment, he resolved to avail himself of the law, which provides for the punishment of refractory apprentices; but the determined manner of the boys caused him to hesitate. Although he was in pretty easy circumstances, he by no means considered himself rich, and had no idea of dispensing with the services of three well-grown, industrious boys. This turmoil in his mind, accompanied with its troublesome indecision, continued for many days, during which time the boys worked steadily and quietly. Gradually, the keen mortification, and chafed feelings of Hardamer wore away, and the boys began to feel safe.
"The storm's pretty well over," said Ike, about a week afterwards. "Who would of thought that the passionate old rascal would have been tamed so easily."
"Tyrants are always cowards,"' said Tom. "Just make them lay aside their bluster, and all's safe."
"It's jubilee, now, I suppose," added Bill. "No more of his confounded beatings. Hurrah! — hurrah! — hurrah!" he continued, in an animated voice, swinging a boot-leg about his head.
"Hush, Bill! the old fellow will hear you, and it's no use to provoke him without a cause. We are not altogether on dry ground yet. A little false play may do the business for us."
"I'll fight till I die, before I'll give in now," said Ike. "Still he's a fool who fights, when he can have peace by being a little quiet, and lose nothing, neither."
"It's my opinion," said Tom, "that the old man wasn't so much to blame in calling you to account the other morning. But then, we'd resolved to snub him the first time he went to cutting up any tantrums, and so it came all in good timing."
"I've got it so often, when I didn't deserve it, though," responded Ike, "that it's put the old devil into me. If our boss had treated us right all along, he'd had none of this work on his hands."
"That's true enough. He has no one to blame but himself. Tyrants make rebels. Boys know what's what, as well as anybody."
"Humph! I reckon they do," added Bill. "Do you think Thompson's boys would ever rise on him? No, indeed; he's a reasonable man, and treats them well."
"But he has one boy, though, you know," said Tom, "who hates him as he does a snake; and says he's a canting old hypocrite."
"Who's that? Abe Shriver?"
"Yes."
"We all know what he is. Didn't Mr. Thompson pick him out of the gutter, and make him all that he is? I hate an ungrateful fellow, and I hate Abe Shriver!"
"But he says Thompson is a hypocrite, Bill," continued Tom, "and that he cheats his customers every day — even if he does have prayers night and morning."
"You don't believe him, though, do you?"
"Why shouldn't I believe him, Bill?"
"Why, just because Abe is a mean, base fellow, and had as soon tell a lie as the truth."
"How would you like to live with Parker, down on South Street, Bill?" said Tom, jumping to another subject.
"I wouldn't live with him; that's all."
"They say his boys have a pretty tough time of it."
"Yes. Harry Sands, who lives there, says, that they're worked almost to death and half starved into the bargain. And I should think so, for they all look as yellow and lantern-jawed as bull-frogs. They are never allowed a bit of butter, and have no bread for dinner. Mrs. Parker cuts off for each boy one slice of meat at dinner time and then takes the dish off. Potatoes make up the bulk of the meal. They did get a pudding once, but Harry said their stomachs wasn't used to it and it made them all sick."
"I wonder they'll stand it."
"Boys will stand a good deal sometimes, to get their trades."
"But what I wonder at, is," said Tom, "that boys, after they know their trades, will continue to submit to such treatment. I'd leave in less than no time."
"Several have run away. But runaway apprentices rarely do well, and this fact is pretty generally known, and talked about in shops."
"There's Wells, the tailor; a clever fellow to his boys, they say. If all I hear is true, I'd like to live with him," said Bill. "It does one good to look at his good-humored face."
"Wells is a prime chap, there's no doubt of that," said Ike. "I'd almost consent to be a tailor to live with him, much as I despise the pale-faced craft. No man with perfectly formed limbs ever ought to be a tailor; that is my doctrine. It will do well enough for cripples and women."
"But they look upon us with contempt, and call us snobs," said Tom.
"Yes, and the chimney sweep despises the miller; but the world can see where the honor lies."
"There is something manly in our trade, any how," responded Tom, hammering his favorite tune of Yankee Doodle on the lapstone, and silencing all conversation for the next minute or two.
"You're right there, Tom," said Ike, as the noise subsided. "A boot-maker is as much above a stitcher, as a merchant is above a cheesemonger."
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