The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 5, May, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 5, May, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Scarcely had the messenger departed than I sat down to laugh. I thought
of the brother, who had especially distinguished himself in his boyish
days, by witticisms upon those famous boots, and I recalled to mind,
also, a slightly exaggerated description of the negro foot, with which
he had been wont to indulge his young companions. This foot he would
describe as very broad and flat, with the leg planted directly in the
centre, leaving an equal length for the toes in front and for the heel
behind.
Now, although I had never given credence to these exact proportions, I
still remained under the impression that there was a peculiarity in the
negro foot, that the heel was somewhat more protuberant than in the
European foot, and rather broad, it might also well be supposed to be,
in its natural and unpinched condition. The whole scene came vividly
before my imagination; the unfortunate family handing round in dismay
those exquisite French boots, vainly striving, one after another, to
insert their toes into them, but finding among their number no
Cinderella whom the wonderful shoe would fit. I figured them at last
descending to a little fellow six years old, or thereabouts, whose poor
little feet might possibly be planted in the centre of the boots, and
thus, in default of any other protection, be saved for a time from frost
and snow. My mind was divided between amusement at the final destination
of these celebrated relics, and regret that I had nothing more suitable
to send. I could only hope that this part of the poor fugitives' outfit
might be more successfully provided for from some other quarter.
Winter passed by; spring came, succeeded by long, hot mid-summer days of
the western summer. Our neighbors, for the most part, were scattered to
the North and East--gone to the lakes, to New-York, to Boston, or to
some summer resort upon the Atlantic coast--all who could, breaking the
long-continued and oppressive heat by a pleasant excursion to some
cooler clime. My friend, the minister's daughter, and most of our own
family, had gone like the rest, and I was left in a somewhat solitary
state to while away the long hours of those burning summer days, in the
monotony of a large and empty country-house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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