A groan of dismay went up from the whole circle, and some who had
pressed forward for a sight of the slippers, shrank back again.

"Did I hea' just now," asked the shoeman, with a soft insinuation in his
voice, and in the glance he suddenly turned upon Clementina, "a party
addressed as Boss?" Clementina flushed, but she did not cower; the chef
walked away with a laugh, and the shoeman pursued him with his voice.
"Not that I am goin' to folla the wicked example of a man who tries to
make spot of young ladies; but if the young lady addressed as Boss--"

"Miss Claxon," said the clerk with ingratiating reverence.

"Miss Claxon--I Stan' corrected," pursued the shoeman. "If Miss Claxon
will do me the fava just to try on this slippa, I sh'd be able to tell
at the next place I stopped just how it looked on a lady's foot. I see
you a'n't any of you disposed to buy 'em this aftanoon, 'and I a'n't
complainin'; you done pootty well by me, already, and I don't want
to uhge you; but I do want to carry away the picture, in my mind's
eye--what you may call a mental photograph--of this slipper on the kind
of a foot it was made fob, so't I can praise it truthfully to my next
customer. What do you say, ma'am?" he addressed himself with profound
respect to Clementina.

"Oh, do let him, Clem!" said one of the girls, and another pleaded,
"Just so he needn't tell a story to his next customa," and that made the
rest laugh.

Clementina's heart was throbbing, and joyous lights were dancing in her
eyes. "I don't care if I do," she said, and she stooped to unlace her
shoe, but one of the big girls threw herself on her knees at her feet to
prevent her. Clementina remembered too late that there was a hole in her
stocking and that her little toe came through it, but she now folded the
toe artfully down, and the big girl discovered the hole in time to abet
her attempt at concealment. She caught the slipper from the shoeman and
harried it on; she tied the ribbons across the instep, and then put on
the other. "Now put out youa foot, Clem! Fast dancin' position!" She
leaned back upon her own heels, and Clementina daintily lifted the edge
of her skirt a little, and peered over at her feet. The slippers might
or might not have been of an imperfect taste, in their imitation of the
prevalent fashion, but on Clementina's feet they had distinction.

"Them feet was made for them slippas," said the shoeman devoutly.

The clerk was silent; he put his hand