id the little
shoe, "was being taken from a large box in which there were many of my
kind thrown together in great confusion. I found myself tied with a
slender cord to a little mate, a shoe so very like me that you could
not have told us apart. We two were taken and put in a large window in
the midst of many grown-up shoes, and we had nothing to do but gaze out
of the window all day long into the wide, busy street. That was a very
pleasant life. Sometimes the sunbeams would dance through the
window-panes and play at hide-and-seek all over me and my little mate;
they would kiss and caress us, and we learned to love them very
much--they were so warm and gentle and merrisome. Sometimes the
raindrops would patter against the window-panes, singing wild songs to
us, and clamoring to break through and destroy us with their eagerness.
When night came, we could see stars away up in the dark sky winking at
us, and very often the old mother moon stole out from behind a cloud to
give us a kindly smile. The wind used to sing us lullabies, and in one
corner of our window there was a little open space where the mice gave
a grand ball every night to the music of the crickets and a blind frog.
Altogether we had a merry time."
"I 'd have liked it all but the wind," said the brass candlestick. "I
don't know why it is, but I 'm dreadfully put out by the horrid old
wind!"
"Many people," continued the little shoe, "used to stop and look in at
the window, and I believe my little mate and I were admired more than
any of our larger and more pretentious companions. I can remember
there was a pair of red-top boots that was exceedingly jealous of us.
But that did not last long, for one day a very sweet lady came and
peered in at the window and smiled very joyously when she saw me and my
little mate. Then I remember we were taken from the window, and the
lady held us in her hands and examined us very closely, and measured
our various dimensions with a string, and finally, I remember, she said
she would carry us home. We did not know what that meant, only we
realized that we would never live in the shop window again, and we were
loath to be separated from the sunbeams and the mice and the other
friends that had been so kind to us."
"What a droll little shoe!" exclaimed the vase. Whereupon the clock
frowned and ticked a warning to the vase not to interrupt the little
shoe in the midst of its diverting narrative.
"It is not necess
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