The little lad had scarcely said this when Michael threw down his work, turned to the window and looked out into the street.
And Simon was amazed. Michael had never looked into the street before, and now he rushed to the window and was looking at something or other. Simon also looked out of the window, and he saw a woman coming straight towards his door; her dress was neat and clean, and she led by the arm two little girls in furs, with kerchiefs round their heads. The children were as like as two peas, it was impossible to tell one from the other, only one of them was lame of a foot, and limped as she walked.
The woman went upstairs to the antechamber, fumbled at the door, groped for the latch, and opened the door. She pushed her two little children on before her, and entered the hut.
"Good health, my masters!"
"We cry your pardon—what do you want?"
The woman sat down on a chair, the children pressed close to her knees, the good people looked on and wondered.
"Look, now," said the woman, "will you stitch me leather bashmachki[1] for the children against the spring?"
"Maybe. We don't as a rule make shoes for such little children, but we can do so, of course. You can have them with good, strong uppers, or you can have them lined with linen. My Michael here is a master at his trade."
- ↑ Women's shoes.
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