common form of speech on the lips of ordinary men. So he gave it out
that he should quit business; and it was soon all over the village.
Of course Tompkins and Lyon were well enough pleased, but there were
a great many who heard of the shoemaker's determination with regret.
In the face of all difficulties and annoyances, they had continued
to depend on him for foot garniture, and were now haunted by
unpleasant images of cramped toes, corns, bunyons, and all the
varied ill attendant on badly made and badly fitting shoes, boots,
and gaiters. The retirement of Andy, cross and unaccommodating as he
had become, was felt, in many homes, to be a public calamity.

"Don't think of such a thing, Mr. Lovell," said one.

"We can't do without you," asserted another.

"You'll not give up altogether," pleaded a third, almost coaxingly.

But Andy Lovell was tired of working without any heart in his work;
and more tired of the constant fret and worry attendant upon a
business in which his mind had ceased to feel interest. So he kept
to his resolution, and went on with his arrangements for closing the
shop.

"What are you going to do?" asked a neighbor.

"Do?" Andy looked, in some surprise, at his interrogator.

"Yes. What are you going to do? A man in good health, at your time
of life, can't be idle. Rust will eat him up."