The
Elves and the Shoemaker
“Can’t you work any faster, my dear?”
said the shoemaker’s wife anxiously.
The shoemaker smiled: “Oh, I could work faster,”
he said.
“I could cut out the leather for my shoes
less neatly, and I could sew with bigger stitches. But I like to give the
customers my very best workmanship. And that takes time.”
“I know, dear, but there’s no money left
over to buy more leather. You work so carefully that it takes you two days to
make one pair of shoes.”
“I’m doing my best,”
said the shoemaker sadly. “My
eyesight isn’t as good as it was and my fingers aren’t so quick.”
The
shoemaker continued to do his slow, careful best. But there was soon no money
left to buy leather, and all his hides and suedes were used up. Only one scrap
of leather was left on his workbench.
“What shall we do tomorrow when there’s no
leather to sew and when there are no more shoes to sell?”
asked his wife.
The
shoemaker smiled. “ Well,
let’s worry about that tomorrow.”
He
spent all day cutting out a pair of shoes from the last of the leather.
“These are probably the last shoes I
shall ever make,” he thought, “so they must be my best.”
When
he went to bed, he left the cut-out shapes on his workbench.
“I’m sorry we are so poor, my dear,”
he said to his wife as he climbed into bed.
“You can only do your best,”
she said comfortingly. “You
can’t do any more.”
In the morning, the shoemaker cleaned
his glasses and threaded his needle around for the
pieces of leather. But something amazing had happened.
A finished pair of shoes stood in the centre of the bench, perfect to the last
shiny buckle. Someone had made the shoes for him, overnight.
“Just look at the workmanship!” he exclaimed, showing them to his wife.
“And look at the beautiful tiny
stitches! Who could have made them?”
The shoes were so well made that they sold for twice
the usual price. So the old shoemaker was able to buy a new strip of leather
and cut out two pairs of shoes during the day. At night he left the cut-out
shapes on his workbench and went to bed a much more cheerful man. In the
morning, the two pairs of shoes were completely finished, right down to the
tags on their laces.
“What a craftsmanship!” said the shoemaker to his wife.
The shoes brought such a good price that this time he
was able to buy enough leather for four pair of shoes. And the next night, the
mysterious visitors sewed all four pairs.
”Such perfect cobbling!” exclaimed the customers.
And they came from miles around to buy the shoemaker’s
wares. There were long, glossy riding boots for the men and pretty velvet
dancing shoes for the ladies.
“We
have enough leather for a lifetime!” said the shoemaker’s happy wife.
“And
so many people come here to buy their shoes that we are almost rich!”
But the shoemaker was thinking.
“Wouldn’t you like to know who is
helping us every night? It’s time we found out.”
So one cold night, just before
Christmas, the shoemaker left the cut-out leather on his
workbench, then he and his wife hid nearby. As
midnight struck, out from behind the clock crept six naked little elves. They
climbed on to the bench and went to work at once, sewing and hammering and lacing
and polishing. Every now and then they stopped to blow into their cold hands or
stamp their cold feet or hug themselves against the chilly night air. They were
shivering blue from head to foot.
“Poor little mites,” said the shoemaker’s wife. “All that work for us and they
haven’t got a shirt or even a pair of boots.”
“Well, after all they’ve done for
us, we ought to give them a thank-you present,” said the
shoemaker.
The next day his wife was soon busy
cutting out little shirts and trousers from some bright warm cloth. The
shoemaker took out his finest needle and softest leather and made a handsome pair
of boots for each elf.
On Christmas night, they left their
presents on the workbench and hid as they had done
before. It was bitterly cold. When the six little
elves appeared, they were shuddering and shivering, and their breath turned
white in the frosty air. They were confused at first, when they could find no
boot leather to sew. But when they saw the clothes and realized that they were
for them, they put them on and danced about, laughing and clapping their hands
inside their new woolly mittens.
“No more cobbling for us! We’re
smart fellows now!”
And they all sang as they danced out the shop and down
the street.
“So! No more help from the elves,” said the shoemaker’s wife, laughing.
“How will you manage now that so many people come
to you for their shoes and boots?”
The
shoemaker smiled. “I’ll
just have to do my best,” he said.
“I’m sure you will, my dear,” said his wife.
“You always do.”
Taken from Golden Press, Australia 1987
Interlanguage: English for Senior High School Students XII
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