Shoes

by O. Henry

John De Graffenreid Atwood ate of the lotus, root, stem, and flower.The tropics gobbled him up. He plunged enthusiastically into hiswork, which was to try to forget Rosine. Now, they who dine on the lotus rarely consume it plain. There isa sauce ~au diable~ that goes with it; and the distillers are thechefs who prepare it. And on Johnny's menu card it read "brandy."With a bottle between them, he and Billy Keogh would sit on the porchof the little consulate at night and roar out great, indecorous songs,until the natives, slipping hastily past, would shrug a shoulder andmutter things to themselves about the "~Americanos diablos~." One day Johnny's ~mozo~ brought the mail and dumped it on the table.Johnny leaned from his hammock, and fingered the four or five lettersdejectedly. Keogh was sitting on the edge of the table choppinglazily with a paper knife at the legs of a centipede that was crawlingamong the stationery. Johnny was in that phase of lotus-eating whenall the world tastes bitter in one's mouth. "Same old thing!" he complained. "Fool people writing for informationabout the country. They want to know all about raising fruit, and howto make a fortune without work. Half of 'em don't even send stampsfor a reply. They think a consul hasn't anything to do but writeletters. Slit those envelopes for me, old man, and see what theywant. I'm feeling too rocky to move." Keogh, acclimated beyond all possibility of ill-humor, drew his chairto the table with smiling compliance on his rose-pink countenance,and began to slit open the letters. Four of them were from citizensin various parts of the United States who seemed to regard the consulat Coralio as a cyclopedia of information. They asked long listsof questions, numerically arranged, about the climate, products,possibilities, laws, business chances, and statistics of the countryin which the consul had the honor of representing his own government. "Write 'em, please, Billy," said that inert official, "just a line,referring them to the latest consular report. Tell 'em the StateDepartment will be delighted to furnish the literary gems. Sign myname. Don't let your pen scratch, Billy; it'll keep me awake." "Don't snore," said Keogh, amiably, "and I'll do your work for you.You need a corps of assistants, anyhow. Don't see how you ever getout a report. Wake up a minute--here's one more letter--it's fromyour own town, too--Dalesburg." "That so?" murmured Johnny showing a mild and obligatory interest."What's it about?" "Postmaster writes," explained Keogh. "Says a citizen of the townwants some facts and advice from you. Says the citizen has an ideain his head of coming down where you are and opening a shoe store.Wants to know if you think the business would pay. Says he's heardof the boom along this coast, and wants to get in on the groundfloor." In spite of the heat and his bad temper, Johnny's hammock swayedwith his laughter. Keogh laughed too; and the pet monkey on the topshelf of the bookcase chattered in shrill sympathy with the ironicalreception of the letter from Dalesburg. "Great bunions!" exclaimed the consul. "Shoe store! What'll they askabout next, I wonder? Overcoat factory, I reckon. Say, Billy--of our3,000 citizens, how many do you suppose ever had on a pair of shoes?" Keogh reflected judicially. "Let's see--there's you and me and--" "Not me," said Johnny, promptly and incorrectly, holding up a footencased in a disreputable deerskin ~zapato~. "I haven't been a victimto shoes in months." "But you've got 'em, though," went on Keogh. "And there's Goodwinand Blanchard and Geddie and old Lutz and Doc Gregg and that Italianthat's agent for the banana company, and there's old Delgado--no; hewears sandals. And, oh, yes; there's Madama Ortiz, 'what kapes thehotel'--she had on a pair of red kid slippers at the ~baile~ the othernight. And Miss Pasa, her daughter, that went to school in the States--she brought back some civilized notions in the way of footgear. Andthere's the ~comandante's~ sister that dresses up her feet on feast-days--and Mrs. Geddie, who wears a two with a Castilian instep--andthat's about all the ladies. Let's see--don't some of the soldiers atthe ~cuartel~--no: that's so; they're allowed shoes only when on themarch. In barracks they turn their little toeses out to grass." "'Bout right," agreed the consul. "Not over twenty out of the threethousand ever felt leather on their walking arrangements. Oh, yes;Coralio is just the town for an enterprising shoe store--that doesn'twant to part with its goods. Wonder if old Patterson is trying tojolly me! He always was full of things he called jokes. Write hima letter, Billy. I'll dictate it. We'll jolly him back a few." Keogh dipped his pen, and wrote at Johnny's dictation. With manypauses, filled in with smoke and sundry travellings of the bottleand glasses, the following reply to the Dalesburg communication wasperpetrated: MR. OBADIAH PATTERSON,Dalesburg, Ala. ~Dear Sir~: in reply to your favor of July 2d. I have the honorto inform you that, according to my opinion, there is no place onthe habitable globe that presents to the eye stronger evidence ofthe need of a first-class shoe store than does the town of Coralio.There are 3,000 inhabitants in the place, and not a single shoestore! The situation speaks for itself. This coast is rapidlybecoming the goal of enterprising business men, but the shoebusiness is one that has been sadly overlooked or neglected.In fact, there are a considerable number of our citizens actuallywithout shoes at present. Besides the want above mentioned, there is also a crying needfor a brewery, a college of higher mathematics, a coal yard, and aclean and intellectual Punch and Judy show. I have the honor to be, Your Obt. Servant,~John De Graffenreid Atwood~,U.S. CONSUL AT CORALIO. P.S.--Hello! Uncle Obadiah. How's the old burg racking along?What would the government do without you and me? Look out fora green-headed parrot and a bunch of bananas soon, from your oldfriend ~Johnny~, "I throw in that postscript," explained the consul, "so Uncle Obadiahwon't take offense at the official tone of the letter! Now, Billy,you get that correspondence fixed up, and send Pancho to the post-office with it. The ~Ariadne~ takes the mail out tomorrow if theymake up that load of fruit today." The night programme in Coralio never varied. The recreations ofthe people were soporific and flat. They wandered about, barefootand aimless, speaking lowly and smoking cigar or cigarette. Lookingdown on the dimly lighted ways one seemed to see a threading mazeof brunette ghosts tangled with a procession of insane fireflies.In some houses the thrumming of lugubrious guitars added tothe depression of the ~triste~ night. Giant tree-frogs rattled inthe foliage as loudly as the end man's "bones" in a minstrel troupe.By nine o'clock the streets were almost deserted. Not at the consulate was there often a change of bill. Keogh wouldcome there nightly, for Coralio's one cool place was the little porchof that official residence. The brandy would be kept moving; andbefore midnight sentiment would begin to stir in the heart of theself-exiled consul. Then he would relate to Keogh the story of hisended romance. Each night Keogh would listen patiently to the tale,and be ready with untiring sympathy. "But don't you think for a minute"--thus Johnny would always concludehis woeful narrative--"that I'm grieving about that girl, Billy. I'veforgotten her. She never enters my mind. If she were to enter thatdoor right now, my pulse wouldn't gain a beat. That's all over longago." "Don't I know it?" Keogh would answer. "Of course you've forgottenher. Proper thing to do. Wasn't quite 0. K. of her to listen to theknocks that--er--Dink Pawson kept giving you." "Pink Dawson!"--a word of contempt would be in Johnny's tones--"Poorwhite trash! That's what he was. Had five hundred acres of farmingland, though; and that counted. Maybe I'll have a chance to get backat him some day. The Dawsons weren't anybody. Everybody in Alabamaknows the Atwoods. Say, Billy--did you know my mother was aDe Graffenreid?" "Why, no," Keogh would say; "is that so?" He had heard it some threehundred times. "Fact. The De Graffenreids of Hancock County. But I never thinkof that girl any more, do I, Billy?" "Not for a minute, my boy," would be the last sounds heard bythe conqueror of Cupid. At this point Johnny would fall into a gentle slumber, and Keogh wouldsaunter out to his own shack under the calabash tree at the edge ofthe plaza. In a day or two the letter from the Dalesburg postmaster and itsanswer had been forgotten by the Coralio exiles. But on the 26th dayof July the fruit of the reply appeared upon the tree of events. The ~Andador~, a fruit steamer that visited Coralio regularly, drewinto the offing and anchored. The beach was lined with spectatorswhile the quarantine doctor and the custom-house crew rowed out toattend to their duties. An hour later Billy Keogh lounged into the consulate, clean and coolin his linen clothes, and grinning like a pleased shark. "Guesswhat?" he said to Johnny, lounging in his hammock. "Too hot to guess," said Johnny, lazily. "Your shoe-store man's come," said Keogh, rolling the sweet morsel onhis tongue, "with a stock of goods big enough to supply the continentas far down as Tierra del Fuego. They're carting his cases over tothe custom-house now. Six barges full they brought ashore and havepaddled back for the rest. Oh, ye saints in glory! won't there beregalements in the air when he gets onto the joke and has an interviewwith Mr. Consul? It'll be worth nine years in the tropics just towitness that one joyful moment." Keogh loved to take his mirth easily. He selected a clean placeon the matting and lay upon the floor. The walls shook with hisenjoyment. Johnny turned half over and blinked. "Didn't tell me," he said, "that anybody was fool enough to takethat letter seriously." "Four-thousand-dollar stock of goods!" gasped Keogh, in ecstasy."Talk about coals to Newcastle! Why didn't he take a ship-load ofpalm-leaf fans to Spitzenbergen while he was about it? Saw the oldcodger on the beach. You ought to have been there when he put onhis specs and squinted at the five hundred or so barefooted citizensstanding around." "Are you telling the truth, Billy?" asked the consul, weakly. "Am I? You ought to see the buncoed gentleman's daughter he broughtalong. Looks! She makes the brick-dust senoritas here look liketar-babies." "Go on," said Johnny, "if you can stop that asinine giggling. I hateto see a grown man make a laughing hyena of himself." "Name is Hemstetter," went on Keogh. "He's a--Hello! what's the matternow?" Johnny's moccasined feet struck the floor with a thud as he wriggledout of his hammock. "Get up, you idiot," he said, sternly, "or I'll brain you with thisinkstand. That's Rosine and her father. Gad! what a drivelling idiotold Patterson is! Get up, here, Billy Keogh, and help me. What thedevil are we going to do? Has all the world gone crazy?" Keogh rose and dusted himself. He managed to regain a decorousdemeanor. "Situation has got to be met, Johnny," he said, with some successat seriousness. "I didn't think about its being your girl until youspoke. First thing to do is to get them comfortable quarters. Yougo down and face the music, and I'll trot out to Goodwin's and seeif Mrs. Goodwin won't take them in. They've got the decentest housein town." "Bless you, Billy!" said the consul. "I knew you wouldn't desert me.The world's bound to come to an end, but maybe we can stave it off fora day or two." Keogh hoisted his umbrella and set out for Goodwin's house. Johnnyput on his coat and hat. He picked up the brandy bottle, but set itdown again without drinking, and marched bravely down to the beach. In the shade of the custom-house walls he found Mr. Hemstetterand Rosine surrounded by a mass of gaping citizens. The customsofficers were ducking and scraping, while the captain of the Andadorinterpreted the business of the new arrivals. Rosine looked healthyand very much alive. She was gazing at the strange scenes around herwith amused interest. There was a faint blush upon her round cheekas she greeted her old admirer. Mr. Hemstetter shook hands withJohnny in a very friendly way. He was an oldish, impractical man--one of that numerous class of erratic business men who are foreverdissatisfied, and seeking a change. "I am very glad to see you, John--may I call you John?" he said."Let me thank you for your prompt answer to our postmaster's letterof inquiry. He volunteered to write to you on my behalf. I waslooking about for something different in the way of a businessin which the profits would be greater. I had noticed in the papersthat this coast was receiving much attention from investors. I amextremely grateful for your advice to come. I sold out everythingthat I possess, and invested the proceeds in as fine a stock of shoesas could be bought in the North. You have a picturesque town here,John. I hope business will be as good as your letter justifies mein expecting." Johnny's agony was abbreviated by the arrival of Keogh, who hurried upwith the news that Mrs. Goodwin would be much pleased to place roomsat the disposal of Mr. Hemstetter and his daughter. So there Mr.Hemstetter and Rosine were at once conducted and left to recuperatefrom the fatigue of the voyage, while Johnny went down to see thatthe cases of shoes were safely stored in the customs warehouse pendingtheir examination by the officials. Keogh, grinning like a shark,skirmished about to find Goodwin, to instruct him not to expose toMr. Hemstetter the true state of Coralio as a shoe market until Johnnyhad been given a chance to redeem the situation, if such a thing werepossible. That night the consul and Keogh held a desperate consultation onthe breezy porch of the consulate. Send em back home," began Keogh, reading Johnny's thoughts. "I would," said Johnny, after a little silence; "but I've been lyingto you, Billy." "All right about that," said Keogh, affably. "I've told you hundreds of times," said Johnny, slowly, "that I hadforgotten that girl, haven't I?" "About three hundred and seventy-five," admitted the monumentof patience. "I lied," repeated the consul, "every time. I never forgot her forone moment. I was an obstinate ass for running away just because shesaid 'No' once. And I was too proud a fool to go back. I talked withRosine a few minutes this evening up at Goodwin's. I found out onething. You remember that farmer fellow who was always after her?" "Dink Pawson?" asked Keogh. "Pink Dawson. Well, he wasn't a hill of beans to her. She says shedidn't believe a word of the things be told her about me. But I'msewed up now, Billy. That tomfool letter we sent ruined whateverchance I had left. She'll despise me when she finds out that herold father has been made the victim of a joke that a decent schoolboywouldn't have been guilty of. Shoes! Why he couldn't sell twentypairs of shoes in Coralio if he kept store here for twenty years. Youput a pair of shoes on one of these Caribs or Spanish brown boys andwhat'd he do? Stand on his head and squeal until he'd kicked 'em off.None of 'em ever wore shoes and they never will. If I send 'em backhome I'll have to tell the whole story, and what'll she think of me?I want that girl worse than ever, Billy, and now when she's in reachI've lost her forever because I tried to be funny when the thermometerwas at 102." "Keep cheerful," said the optimistic Keogh. "And let 'em openthe store. I've been busy myself this afternoon. We can stir up atemporary boom in foot-gear anyhow. I'll buy six pairs when the doorsopen. I've been around and seen all the fellows and explained thecatastrophe. They'll all buy shoes like they was centipedes. FrankGoodwin will take cases of 'em. The Geddies want about eleven pairsbetween 'em. Clancy is going to invest the savings of weeks, and evenold Doc Gregg wants three pairs of alligator-hide slippers if they'vegot any tens. Blanchard got a look at Miss Hemstetter; and as he'sa Frenchman, no less than a dozen pairs will do for him." "A dozen customers," said Johnny, "for a $4,000 stock of shoes!It won't work. There's a big problem here to figure out. You gohome, Billy, and leave me alone. I've got to work at it all bymyself. Take that bottle of Three-star along with you--no, sir;not another ounce of booze for the United States consul. I'll sithere tonight and pull out the think stop. If there's a soft placeon this proposition anywhere I'll land on it. If there isn'tthere'll be another wreck to the credit of the gorgeous tropics." Keogh left, feeling that he could be of no use. Johnny laid a handfulof cigars on a table and stretched himself in a steamer chair. Whenthe sudden daylight broke, silvering the harbor ripples, he was stillsitting there. Then he got up, whistling a little tune, and took hisbath. At nine o'clock he walked down to the dingy little cable office andhung for half an hour over a blank. The result of his application wasthe following message, which he signed and had transmitted at a costof $33: TO PINKNEY DAWSON,Dalesburg, Ala. Draft for $100 comes to you next mail. Ship me immediately 500pounds stiff, dry cockleburrs. New use here in arts. Market pricetwenty cents pound. Further orders likely. Rush.

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