Hans Grovendraad, an honest clown,
By cobbling in his native town,
Had earned a living ever.
read more

Hans Grovendraad, an honest clown,
By cobbling in his native town,
Had earned a living ever.
His work was strong and clean and fine,
And none who served at Crispin's shrine
Was at his trade more clever.

To one commending an orator for his skill in amplifying petty
matters, Agesilaus said: "I do not think that read more

To one commending an orator for his skill in amplifying petty
matters, Agesilaus said: "I do not think that shoemaker a good
workman that makes a great shoe for a little foot."

A careless shoe string, in whose tie
I see a wilde civility.

A careless shoe string, in whose tie
I see a wilde civility.

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should read more

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should the big last extend the shoe too wide,
Each stone will wrench the unwary step aside;
The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein,
The cracking joint unhinge, or ankle sprain;
And when too short the modish shoes are worn,
You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.

To each foot its own shoe.
[Fr., A chaque pied son soulier.]

To each foot its own shoe.
[Fr., A chaque pied son soulier.]

If you had taken off the shoe then, at length you would feel in
what part it pinched you.
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If you had taken off the shoe then, at length you would feel in
what part it pinched you.
[Lat., Si calceum induisses, tum demum sentires qua parte te
urgeret.]

I was not made of common calf,
Nor ever meant for country loon;
If with an axe read more

I was not made of common calf,
Nor ever meant for country loon;
If with an axe I seem cut out,
The workman was no cobbling clown;
A good jack boot with double sole he made,
To roam the woods, or through the rivers wade.

Ye tuneful cobblers! still your notes prolong,
Compose at once a slipper and a song;
So shall read more

Ye tuneful cobblers! still your notes prolong,
Compose at once a slipper and a song;
So shall the fair your handiwork peruse,
Your sonnets sure shall please--perhaps your shoes.

. . . And holding out his shoe, asked them whether it was not new and
well made. "Yet," read more

. . . And holding out his shoe, asked them whether it was not new and
well made. "Yet," added he, "none of you can tell where it
pinches me."