_Shoemaker_... Lord S-L-SB-RY. _Customer_... Lord H-RT-NGT-N.
_Customer._ H-o-w-o-u-g-h!!!
_Shoemaker (solicitously)._ Beg pardon, m'Lord! Hurt you, m'Lord?
_Customer._ Hurt? I should think it did, indeed.
_Shoemaker._ Very strange, m'Lord. 'Tother one seems to fit you to a
nicety. (_Aside._) Fancied _that_ might be a tight fit now.
_Customer._ Humph! I can make shift with that. But this won't do at all.
Tight across the instep and pinches the toes awfully. (_Aside._) Hang
it! it's a beastly bad fit everyway; but that it wouldn't suit to me
change just now, I'd throw the confounded things on his hands and go
elsewhere.
_Shoemaker (aside)._ He looks grumpy; I must mind my eye, or I shall
lose his custom. And that wouldn't suit my books a bit--just now.
(_Aloud._) Awfully sorry, I'm sure, m'Lord. We must try again.
_Customer._ You ought to have got the measure of my foot better than
this, especially when I handed you my old lasts.
_Shoemaker._ Well, m'Lord, you see, you've a bit--ahem!--_outgrown_ 'em
like, don't you see, m'Lord?
_Customer._ _Outgrown_ them? What do you mean? Feet don't _grow_ at my
time of life.
_Shoemaker (aside)._ How shall I put it so as not to huff him? Bunions
_are_ a growth; so are corns--of a kind. (_Aloud._) Why, m'Lord, I
think--I--a--fancy your last pair--Gladstone highlows they were--weren't
they?--trying shoes for tender feet, m'Lord--must have been just a
trifle too small, and--ahem!--compressed your feet a little, _at the
joints_, m'Lord.
_Customer (aside)._ By Jove, he's right. G.'s tight fits have galled me
for some time past, and the last pair he made me I simply couldn't get
on. (_Aloud._) Hang it, man, what has that to do with it? Your business
is to fit my feet as they are. If you can't do it----
_Shoemaker (hastily)._ _Can't_, m'Lord? No such word in our shop,
m'Lord. I flatter myself we could fit the biggest beetle-crusher ever
bunion'd into the shape of a giant potato or a Californian nugget. Much
more _your_ shapely foot, m'Lord, which, if it has been nubblyfied a
leetle by misfits, will soon recover its proper proportions--under
proper treatment.
_Customer._ Well, off with this boot, anyhow. You'll have to make it
longer and wider, ease it here and slacken it there, before _I_ can wear
it.
_Shoemaker._ Very good, m'Lord. (_Aside._) Doosed imperative, but I
can't afford to offend him. Though I never expected an old-established
high-class firm like ours would have stooped to tout for any of botching
G.'s old customers. There's Mr. JOSEPH BRUMMAGEM, now, fancy my having
to kneel at _his_ feet, and take _his_ measure! More particular than
this one, if anything, and puts him up to half his objections, I
believe. Well, well, trade's bad, and we mustn't be too scrupulous, I
suppose. Besides, some of G.'s old customers seem drifting back to the
old shop we thought was just about shutting up, and that won't do at any
price.
_Customer (irritably)._ What are you muttering and murmuring about?
_Shoemaker._ Murmuring, m'Lord? Oh dear no, m'Lord. Not at all, m'Lord.
Quite _the_ contrary. I was only blessing that there G. for spoiling the
Trade as he has done. Brought us down from Wellingtons, and even his own
smartly cut Oxonians to borough Bluchers and rustic highlows; and now
wants to set a new fashion all on a sudden, and make us all take to his
confounded badly cut Irish brogues. Yah! Chaps like G. ought to be
boycotted--ahem!--I mean Primrose-Leagued out of the profession. Wonder
any gentleman can condescend to deal with him. Now, _my_ customers, as
your friend Mr. JOSEPH kindly acknowledged t'other day, are gentlemen to
a man, and for cut, style, finish and polish, I _will_ say----
_Customer._ Oh, yes, no doubt. But the point just at present, my good
fellow, is _fit_. If you miss that you miss all.
_Shoemaker (eagerly)._ Oh, have no fear on that account, m'Lord.
Elastic's the word, m'Lord. We've any number of different trees, and our
leather is warranted to stretch to any extent. We'll even alter our
favourite old-fashionable cut to suit such customers as _you_!
[Illustration: MAKING IT EASY.
SHOEMAKER (_most accommodating_). "THE OTHER FITS ALL RIGHT,
M'LORD--THIS ONE WAS A BIT TIGHT,--BUT NOW I'VE EASED IT YOU'LL BE ABLE
TO WEAR IT WITH PERFECT COMFORT. WE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE YOUR CUSTOM,
M'LORD!"]
_Customer._ Thanks. The fashion _is_ changing a
little, I fear. I don't want to leave you, and I won't go back to G.--if
I can help it. If his brogue should become the vogue--but there, it's
shocking to think of it. Give us a decent fit which we can wear in
public without reproach, and we'll stick to you. But how about this
boot?
_Shoemaker (with effusion)._ Oh, we'll alter it to _any_ extent, to suit
your taste, m'Lord, though it isn't exactly the cut upon which our House
has always prided itself. There! It _was_ a bit tight, but now I've
eased it you'll be able to wear it with perfect comfort. We can't afford
to lose _your_ custom, m'Lord!
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE CONVENTIONAL MISSIONARY WHO COULDN'T CONVERT THE
SULTAN.
"Sir DRUMMOND WOLFF'S Mission is at an end."--_Papers generally._]
* * * * *
'ARRY ON ANGLING.