Ten – Ye Olde Shoe ShoppeAs I said, outside of work, I stayed in my rooms. The only exceptions were trips to the backyard (to the well hand pump) for water for Mrs Griggs. Hauling water for my landlady, I had to pass through the late Mr Griggs' shoe shop; abandoned at his death, but relatively untouched by time, on the ground floor of my lodging house.
I should say protected rather than abandoned. Mrs Griggs would allow nothing of her late husband's to be disturbed. More, she frequently added to it. The lady was a compulsive pack rat. As the woman trusted me, over the years I had become – for want of a better title – the curator of the old shoe shoppe. I swept and dusted. I watched over her cherished relics and stored and tended the new junk the woman brought in. I carried requested items
