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The Shoes Fit for a King

Click to return to index    Author:  Helen E. Bill
Copyright Date:  1956
Publisher:  Franklin Watts
Pagination:  36 p.
Dedication:  to my mother
who first saw the Shoes

 
Once upon a time a cobbler made a wonderful pair of shoes. He used the finest leather to be found in the whole kingdom, stitched the shoes with special care, and polished them until they gleamed like gold. Everyone in the village who came into his shop
admired the wonderful shoes. And they all said how grand they were, and how handsome they looked, and surely here was a pair of shoes fit for a king.
     So it’s no small wonder that the handsome shoes with the high polish that gleamed like gold became very proud. In fact, they were soon quite stuck-up.
     One day the cobbler left his shop to deliver some boots he’d repaired. Hardly had he gone when the proud shoes’ tongues began to wag.
     “Now’s the time!” cried the left.
     “Time for what?” asked the right, who besides being proud was also a bit stupid and could only follow where the left shoe led.
     “Time to set off for the palace, silly,” replied the other.
     “Oh,” said the right shoe, although he didn’t really know why.
     So the left shoe explained it to him. It was all because they were so handsome—really fit for a king. Here he paused for a moment and the two of them sat there on the cobbler’s bench and admired their shining tops and their neat stitches and the fine cut of their leather. Then the left shoe went on. Certainly anyone as handsome as they ought to live in a palace like a king.
Hadn’t everybody said they were two shoes fit for a king?
     “Well, then, there you are!” cried the left.
     And before the right shoe could ask him where that was, the left shoe was out the door and off down the road to the palace. The right shoe hopped down from the bench after him. And away they went, clump! clump! ... clumpity! clump! the two proud, proud shoes off to the royal palace.
     What happened after that would never have happened at all if a sudden shower hadn't happened to happen along at that moment. Down splashed the rain. In no time at all it was raining cats and dogs and pitchforks and coal scuttles too. The two proud, proud shoes ran as fast as they could up the hill. As luck would have it, the front gate was locked so they hurried around the back way. By the time they reached the rear of the palace, they were both a bit wet and more than a bit muddy.
     “It will dry and rub off,” the left shoe said to the right. And because they were both so proud, they thought themselves still as handsome as ever. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Cover variant
 
 

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