When I was a boy the new shoe (it was a boot then) was a
mortification wherever I went. It announced my coming like a
brass band. It was unescapable. To a modest man it was an agony.
Even an assertive man found it inconvenient at times.
But now the shoes, even the newest of shoes, shoes worn for the
first time, do not squeak one little squeak. They would not
disturb the typical but mythical pin-fall silence.
Where has the squeak gone? It has been taken up by a layer of
some sort of cloth or soft fiber between the two layers of
leather. It is a very simple device, and the wonder, as with so
many other simple devices, is that it was not thought of before.
What I want to do is to apply the non-squeak method to my life.
I want to put something between the rubbing surfaces of my
thoughts and words and actions that will make them noiseless. I
want the operation of my brain and the energy of my life to be
silent. I shall be glad when the world sees results, but I do
not care to have it see processes.
I want my shoes to “get there,” but I don’t want them to squeak
on the way.--ARROW, _Christian Endeavor World_.
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