fell over a bronze sheep, designed to ornament some pastoral scene,
and the heel of Mr. Schwartz's heavy boot came down with a thump that
made everything ring. There was a titter from some of the clerks. Mr.
Ludolph, who was following his daughter, exclaimed, "What's the matter,
Fleet? You seem rather unsteady, this morning, for a church member."

For a moment he had the general appearance usually ascribed to the
sheep, his unlucky stumbling-block. But by a strong effort he recovered
himself. Deigning no reply, he set his teeth, compressed his lips,
picked up the boot, and polished away as before, trying to look and
feel regardless of all the world. In fact there was as much pride in
his face as there had ever been in hers. But, not noticing him, she
said to her father: "Here is a specimen. Look where this picture is
hung. In bootblack corner I should term it. It would not sell here in
a thousand years, for what little light there is would be obscured
much of the time by somebody's big boots and the artist in charge. It
has evidently been placed here in view of one principle
alone--dimensions; its length and breadth according with the space in
the corner. You will see what a change I will bring about in a month
or two, after my plans are matured;" and then she strolled to another
part of the store. But, before leaving, Miss Ludolph happened to glance
at Dennis's face, and was much struck by its expression. Surely Pat
Murphy never would or could look like that. For the first time the
thought entered her mind that Dennis might be of a different clay and
character from Pat. But the next moment his expression of pride and
offended dignity, in such close juxtaposition to the big boot he was
twirling almost savagely around, again appealed to her sense of the
ludicrous, and she turned away with a broad smile. Dennis, looking up,
saw the smile and guessed the cause; and when, a moment after, Mr.
Schwartz appeared, asking in his loud, blunt way, "My boots ready?"