Fatal Boots | Page 8

him, and did not despair, before the end of a
year or two, either to leave the school, when I should not mind his
dunning me, or to screw the money from mamma, and so pay him.
So I called upon this man--Stiffelkind was his name--and he took my
measure for a pair.
"You are a vary yong gentleman to wear dop-boots," said the
shoemaker.
"I suppose, fellow," says I, "that is my business and not yours. Either
make the boots or not--but when you speak to a man of my rank, speak
respectfully!" And I poured out a number of oaths, in order to impress

him with a notion of my respectability.
They had the desired effect. "Stay, sir," says he. "I have a nice littel pair
of dop-boots dat I tink will jost do for you." And he produced, sure
enough, the most elegant things I ever saw. "Day were made," said he,
"for de Honorable Mr. Stiffney, of de Gards, but were too small."
"Ah, indeed!" said I. "Stiffney is a relation of mine. And what, you
scoundrel, will you have the impudence to ask for these things?" He
replied, "Three pounds."
"Well," said I, "they are confoundedly dear; but, as you will have a
long time to wait for your money, why, I shall have my revenge you
see. The man looked alarmed, and began a speech: "Sare,--I cannot let
dem go vidout"--but a bright thought struck me, and I interrupted--"Sir!
don't sir me. Take off the boots, fellow, and, hark ye, when you speak
to a nobleman, don't say--Sir."
"A hundert tousand pardons, my lort," says he: "if I had known you
were a lort, I vood never have called you--Sir. Vat name shall I put
down in my books?"
"Name?--oh! why, Lord Cornwallis, to be sure," said I, as I walked off
in the boots.
"And vat shall I do vid my lort's shoes?"
"Keep them until I send for them," said I. And, giving him a
patronizing bow, I walked out of the shop, as the German tied up my
shoes in paper.
. . . . . .
This story I would not have told, but that my whole life turned upon
these accursed boots. I walked back to school as proud as a peacock,
and easily succeeded in satisfying the boys as to the manner in which I
came by my new ornaments.
Well, one fatal Monday morning--the blackest of all black-Mondays
that ever I knew--as we were all of us playing between school- hours, I
saw a posse of boys round a stranger, who seemed to be looking out for
one of us. A sudden trembling seized me--I knew it was Stiffelkind.
What had brought him here? He talked loud, and seemed angry. So I
rushed into the school-room, and burying my head between my hands,
began reading for dear life.
"I vant Lort Cornvallis," said the horrid bootmaker. "His lortship
belongs, I know, to dis honorable school, for I saw him vid de boys at

chorch yesterday."
"Lord who?"
"Vy, Lort Cornvallis to be sure--a very fat yong nobeman, vid red hair:
he squints a little, and svears dreadfully."
"There's no Lord Cornvallis here," said one; and there was a pause.
"Stop! I have it," says that odious Bunting. "IT MUST BE STUBBS!"
And "Stubbs! Stubbs!" every one cried out, while I was so busy at my
book as not to hear a word.
At last, two of the biggest chaps rushed into the schoolroom, and
seizing each an arm, run me into the playground--bolt up against the
shoemaker.
"Dis is my man. I beg your lortship's pardon," says he, "I have brought
your lortship's shoes, vich you left. See, dey have been in dis parcel
ever since you vent avay in my boots."
"Shoes, fellow!" says I. "I never saw your face before!" For I knew
there was nothing for it but brazening it out. "Upon the honor of a
gentleman!" said I, turning round to the boys. They hesitated; and if the
trick had turned in my favor, fifty of them would have seized hold of
Stiffelkind and drubbed him soundly.
"Stop!" says Bunting (hang him!) "Let's see the shoes. If they fit him,
why then the cobbler's right." They did fit me; and not only that, but the
name of STUBBS was written in them at full length.
"Vat!" said Stiffelkind. "Is he not a lort? So help me Himmel, I never
did vonce tink of looking at de shoes, which have been lying ever since
in dis piece of brown paper." And then, gathering anger as he went on,
he thundered out so much of his abuse of me, in his German-English,
that the boys roared with laughter. Swishtail came in in the midst of the
disturbance,