Added to the shoemaker’s house there is a smaller house, built exactly like it and, though separated from it by an arched gateway, belonging to it like part of a whole.  It has only one large room with some closets.  Its purpose is to serve the owner of the larger house as habitation for the remainder of his days, after having left the property to his son or successor; there to dwell with his wife until both are dead and the little house stands empty again and is ready for another occupant.  To the rear of the shoemaker’s house are stable and barn; for every dweller in the valley carries on farming along with his regular occupation and makes a good living from it.  Behind these buildings, finally, is the garden which is lacking to none of the better houses of Gschaid, and from which the villagers obtain their vegetables, their fruit, and the flowers necessary for festive occasions.  And, as quite commonly in the mountains, apiculture is pursued also in the gardens of Gschaid.

The small exception alluded to, and the only competitor of the shoemaker is a man of the same trade, old Tobias, who is not a real rival, though, because he only cobbles and is kept quite busy with that.  Nor would he ever think of competing with the gentleman shoemaker of the township, especially as the latter frequently provides him gratuitously with leather-cuttings, sole strips, and the like.  In summertime, old Tobias sits under a clump of elder-bushes at the end of the village and works away.  All about him are shoes and lace-boots, all of them, however, gray, muddy, and torn.  There are no high boots because these are not worn in the village and its surroundings; only two personages own such boots, the priest and the schoolteacher, both of whom have their new work and repairing done by the shoemaker.  In winter, old Tobias sits in his cot behind the elder-bushes and has it comfortably warm, because wood is not dear in Gschaid.

Before entering into possession of his house, the shoemaker had been a chamois-poacher—­in fact, had not exactly been a model in youth, so the people of Gschaid said.  In school, he had always been one of the brightest scholars.  Afterwards, he had learned his father’s trade and had gone on his journeyman wanderings, finally returning to the village.  Instead of wearing a black hat, as befits a tradesman, and as his father had done all his life, he put on a green one, decorated it with all the feathers obtainable and strutted around in the very shortest homespun coat to be found in all the valley; whereas his father always had worn a coat of dark, even black cloth with very long tails to indicate his station as tradesman.  The young shoemaker was to be seen on all dancing floors and bowling alleys.  Whenever any one gave him a piece of good advice he merely whistled.  He attended all shooting-matches in the neighborhood with his target-rifle and often brought back a prize, which he considered a great victory.  The prize generally consisted of coins