last's being taken up again and exhibited; "now, whose foot do ye suppose
this last was made for? It was made for Geoffrey Day's father, over at
Yalbury Wood. Ah, many's the pair o' boots he've had off the last! Well,
when 'a died, I used the last for Geoffrey, and have ever since, though a
little doctoring was wanted to make it do. Yes, a very queer natured
last it is now, 'a b'lieve," he continued, turning it over caressingly.
"Now, you notice that there" (pointing to a lump of leather bradded to
the toe), "that's a very bad bunion that he've had ever since 'a was a
boy. Now, this remarkable large piece" (pointing to a patch nailed to
the side), "shows a' accident he received by the tread of a horse, that
squashed his foot a'most to a pomace. The horseshoe cam full-butt on
this point, you see. And so I've just been over to Geoffrey's, to know
if he wanted his bunion altered or made bigger in the new pair I'm
making."

During the latter part of this speech, Mr. Penny's left hand wandered
towards the cider-cup, as if the hand had no connection with the person
speaking; and bringing his sentence to an abrupt close, all but the
extreme margin of the bootmaker's face was eclipsed by the circular brim
of the vessel.

"However, I was going to say," continued Penny, putting down the cup, "I
ought to have called at the school"--here he went groping again in the
depths of his pocket--"to leave this without fail, though I suppose the
first thing to-morrow will do."

He now drew forth and placed upon the table a boot--small, light, and
prettily shaped--upon the heel of which he had been operating.

"The new schoolmistress's!"