LEATHER.

In the colonial days, as we have seen, the traveling shoemaker was abroad in the land. He was accustomed to travel through his section of the country with a kit of tools and bits of leather on his back. He was familiarly called "Crispin," from the patron saint of his craft, and ofttimes proved a "character" much appreciated by the farmers and their families. Sometimes these traveling mechanics were quiet, silent men, doing their work and going on intent only on obtaining their living; but sometimes they were jolly, social people, facetious, even witty.

"Good mornin', neighbor Heyday," said a Crispin to a farmer. "I hope you and the madam and the childers are all very well, the day."

"Eh, purty fair. The woman is ailin' some. She wants buildin' up, buildin' up."

"Well, well," said Crispin, "the Lord has laid His hand of blessing heavily upon ye, so He has that."

"What is the meanin' of that speech?" said the farmer.

"Eh, sorry is it for the joker when he has to explain his own joke. Hasn't He filled your quiver full of childers? and isn't that the greatest blessing the Almighty can bestow on man that is a sinner?"

"But I have only six childers."

"Yes, yes, I see, but the eldest counts less years than the clock tell hours; and I wish ye had a dozen instead of half as many. Are ye givin' 'em all good healthy understandin'?"

"Well, them that's old enough goes to school, if that's what you mean?"

"Well, there it is again. A man has to interpret his own wit. I mean, have they all good soles on which to keep their bodies healthy?"

"The good Lord gives 'em the souls and their parents are responsible only for the bodies."

"Blunderin' again it is that I am. I mean are ye'r shoes all in a good, healthy condition, so that the brats will not take cold and be carried off by a stout, lung fever, that the doctors call newmony?"

"Well, they've worn no shoes all summer except what the Lord gave 'em, and that's the skin of their feet."

"Well, now, it's a full twelvemonth since I was around here afore, and do ye want me to make up their winter shoes for 'em?"

So the conversation went on until they had struck a bargain, that the Crispin should board with the farmer and make up the shoes for himself and the children, the farmer paying for the leather and so much by the week for the man's work. The shoemaker then made a strong pair of cowhide boots for the father of the family; a pair of kid shoes for the good wife; two pairs of calfskin shoes for the two girls; two pairs of ingrain boots for the older boys; and two pairs of kid shoes for the younger boys. The silver jingled in the pocket of the Crispin when his task was completed, and he traveled onward to the next farm. He had appropriated to himself a certain section of villages and country, and he would treat the matter as a serious misdemeanor should any other Crispin trespass upon his territory.

The Crispins of those days were honest and faithful in their work. Slow they were,—that cannot be denied. Even as late as the early half of this century a good shoemaker has been known to labor from morning till night through the six days of the week on one pair of fine, sewed, calfskin boots, and the entire price which the customer paid for them was $5, which included both labor and material.

What a contrast from the ancient method the present system furnishes! Not long since a wedding was to occur in Salem, Massachusetts. A telegram was sent at ten o'clock in the morning to Lynn, ordering a pair of ladies' slippers made from white kid, to be worn at the ceremony that afternoon. The shoes were cut out and made up complete and forwarded to Salem by the two o'clock train.

Miss Sarah E. Wiltse in her stories for children tells how little Alice was drinking her cup of milk one night when she asked her father to tell her a story about the good cow, for her third finger. She said: "The cow does three things for me now. Here is milk for my thumb, butter for the pointer, cheese for Mr. Tallman, and now my third finger, Mr. Feebleman, wants something. What can the cow give me for my third finger?"

Her father then told her the story of a king in the long, long ago,—I think it must have been in the pre-historic times,—a king who put into one pile the things which he knew, and into another pile the things which he did not know. Now the pile which this foolish king did not know was a great deal larger than the pile of things which he did know. Neither he nor his people knew much about making houses or dishes or even clothes for themselves. They went barefooted and bareheaded all the time. One day the king's horse fell dead and he was obliged to walk a long distance. The sharp stones cut his feet, and the briars and brambles pricked them and tore them. Then the king told his people to put down a carpet for him to walk on. So they all went to work to make coarse carpets for the king to walk upon.

They had hard work to make carpets enough to lay down in advance of the king, day after day, as he traveled across the country. At length one of his servants went away by himself and worked all night. The next morning he came and knelt before the king and said:

"Sire, I have a carpet for the whole earth, though none but the king may walk upon it. Upon this carpet thou canst climb mountains and thy feet be not bruised; thou canst wander in the valleys and thy feet never be torn by brambles; thou canst tread the burning desert and thy feet remain unscorched."

Then the king said: "Bring me that priceless carpet and half my kingdom shall be thine." The servant brought to the king a pair of shoes which he had made in the night. This was a new carpet for the king; and so this was the fourth good thing which the cow gave to Alice; the milk she put down for the thumb, the butter for the first finger, the cheese for the middle finger, and now she put leather for the third finger. What great changes have taken place in the process of making boots and shoes since this witty servant made the carpet for the king's feet!

Let us trace briefly the history of leather and the evolution of a pair of shoes. In the early colonial days the skins of animals were widely used for clothing. Caps were made for the men and boys from bear skins, wolf skins, and the skins of the catamount. Overcoats with sleeves and hoods were made of skins of wild animals properly dressed, with the hair on. Moccasins for winter service were from the same material. Buckskin breeches with fringed edges were in common use. These costumes in the newly settled regions of our Western country continued until fifty or sixty years ago.

In the winter of 1842-43 Dr. Marcus Whitman made his memorable journey from Oregon across the country to the States. On a later occasion he described the dress which he wore on that remarkable horseback ride. He said: "I wore buckskin breeches, fur moccasins, a blue duffle coat, a buffalo overcoat with hood, and a bearskin cap. Rather a fantastic garb for a missionary, wasn't it?"

Inventions and machinery have done much to improve the processes of tanning leather. Tanning itself is a curious process. It changes raw hides into a condition in which the skins are useful in the arts and manufactures. This process renders the skins nearly impervious to water, and makes them so tough that they can withstand the ravages of time and remain firm and strong even for centuries.

It is said that specimens of leather have been discovered in China which are surely three thousand years old. They had been tanned by the process which is called "alum tannage." When Columbus discovered America he found, in possession of the Indians, skins that had been tanned. Their process of tanning, too, was practically the alum method.

Sir Edwin Arnold found a pair of slippers in a sarcophagus in India, and nothing else was present except a small heap of dust. In the huts of the Rock Dwellers in Arizona tanned leather has been found. In ancient Babylon they had a process of tanning, and nearly two thousand years ago the Russians and Hungarians were skilled in the art. The ancient Romans knew how to tan leather with oil, alum, and bark.

Most of the early tanning, however, was without bark. The process was accomplished with oil, clay, sour milk, and smoke. Later, nutgalls and leaves began to be used. Oak bark is the principal material now employed throughout the world in tanning. Besides the oak bark, the barks of hemlock, pine, birch, and willow are utilized.

When the texture of the skin has been so changed by this tanning process as to become tough and durable, then the name leather is given to it. In the days of the Crispins six months was as short a time as the tanner thought needful for the proper curing of the hides. The process was crude, long, and laborious; but the leather, ah! the leather—it was strong and would wear like iron. Even the children did not need copper toes. To-day the methods have changed greatly; in no way more noticeably than in the shorter time required. The modern process must be considered an improvement, even though the leather is not as strong as formerly.

The skins of most animals may be used to make leather The domestic animals, cows, calves, and sheep, are first called upon to give their skins for leather. Glazed kid is made from goat skins. Kangaroo leather is much used for shoes. Considerable use is made of alligator leather for satchels and bags and even for shoes. Skins of lizards, snakes, and seals are used; walrus hides are tanned, and the leather used for polishing knives and tools. "Patent leather" is made principally of cowhide, horsehide, and calfskin. Horsehide leather is very tough and durable, but is too elastic for some purposes. Harness leather is made from steer and cow hides. "Russia leather," formerly made only in Russia, has been a favorite material for the choicest kinds of pocketbooks and satchels. Bookbinders prefer it for binding their most costly volumes.

Marshall Jewell was a New Hampshire boy. He learned the trade of tanning and worked at it with his father. While yet a young man, he removed to Hartford, Connecticut. There, at first with his father and afterward alone, he carried on a large business in manufacturing leather belting. He was three times governor of the State. The year after leaving the governor's chair he was appointed Minister to Russia. While in that country, through his intimate knowledge of the methods of tanning, he discovered the secret of the Russian process. It had never been known before in our country. Under his direction it was introduced here, and within the last twenty-five years it has come into very extensive use. The process is quite simple. It is thus described: Steep the leather in a solution of fifty pounds each of oak and hemlock bark and sumach, one pound of willow bark and nine hundred gallons of water; heat by steam, and immerse the leather till struck through, and while the material is still damp smear on the outer side a solution of oil of birch bark dissolved in a little alcohol and ether. This imparts to the leather its odor and its pliability.

A boot or shoe consists principally of two parts: the sole, made of thick, tough, strong leather, and the uppers, made of a softer, more pliable leather. By the old process the boot or the shoe was made throughout by a single person. By the modern process, one person cuts out the shoe, another binds it, and a third puts it upon the last; still another manages the machine which sews the sole and the upper together, a different person trims the edges, some one else attends to the next process in the division of labor, until, it may be, a dozen persons have done something to the making of one shoe.

The modern improved machines for sewing on the soles of shoes are wonderful instruments. Upon one machine a good workman will sew eight hundred pairs of women's shoes in ten hours. A great part of the boots and shoes worn by the people of this country are made with this improved machinery in large establishments in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other large cities, and particularly in several towns in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine. The most important seat of this manufacture is Lynn, Massachusetts, but great quantities of shoes are made in Brockton, Haverhill, Milford, Marblehead, Danvers, and Worcester in Massachusetts, Portland, Auburn, and Augusta in Maine, and Dover and Farmington, in New Hampshire.