XXXIV. A "FATHER" AND "MOTHER" FOR THE "HOME" 249 XXXV. THE OPENING OF THE "HOME" 255 XXXVI. TOMMY DUDGEON UNDERTAKES A DELICATE ENTERPRISE 267 XXXVII. BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH 275 XXXVIII. A LITTLE SHOE 285 XXXIX. A JOYOUS DISCOVERY 293 XL. TOMMY DUDGEON'S CONTRIBUTION 305 XLI. NO ROOM FOR DOUBT! 313 XLII. FATHER AND DAUGHTER 326 XLIII. THE TRAMP'S CONFESSION 339 THE GOLDEN SHOEMAKER. CHAPTER I. BEREAVED! In a small house, in a back street, in the large manufacturing town of Cottonborough, the young wife of "Cobbler" Horn lay dying. It was the dusk of a wild evening in early winter; and the cruel cough, which could be heard every now and then, in the lulls of the wind, from the room upstairs, gave deepening emphasis to the sad fact that the youthful wife and mother--for such also she was--had fallen a victim to that fell disease which sweeps away so much of the fair young life of our land. "Cobbler" Horn himself was engaged just now in the duties of his calling, in the little workshop behind the kitchen. The house was very small. The kitchen and workshop were the only rooms downstairs, and above them were three small chambers. The one in which the dying woman lay was over the workshop, and the sound of her coughing came down with sharp distinctness through the boarded floor, which was the only ceiling of the lower room. "Cobbler" Horn knew that the death of his wife was probably a question of a few hours at most. But he had promised that the boots on which he was at work should be finished that night; and he had conscientiously withdrawn from his wife's bedside that he might keep his word. "Cobbler" Horn was a man of thirty or so. He was tall, and had somewhat rugged features and clear steadfast eyes. He had crisp black hair, and a shaven face. His complexion was dark, and his bare arms were almost as brown as his leathern apron. His firmly set lips and corrugated brow, as he bent now over his work, declared him to possess unusual power of will. Indeed a strength of purpose such as belongs to few was required to hold him to his present task. Meanwhile his chief misgiving was lest the noise he was compelled to make should distress his dying wife; and it was touching to see how he strove to modify, to the utmost degree which was consistent with efficient workmanship, the tapping of the hammer on the soles of the boots in hand.