s. He had made shoes for
Gustave's father, and when he said anything about heels or toes or
leather it was quite sure to be true. But here was something very
strange. Gustave's blue eyes looked and looked in surprise at his new
shoes. They seemed not in the least different from those that he had
just worn out, or those that he kept for Sunday. He glanced up at his
mother, who was giving the shoemaker a shining silver dollar and a
shining silver half dollar to pay for them. She did not say anything.
She only smiled back into his eyes. Then Gustave spoke to the old
shoemaker.

"Why are they wonder shoes?" he asked.

"Oh you will find out!" chuckled the old shoemaker as he patted
Gustave's head. So Gustave and his mother went out of the old
shoemaker's shop and up the street.

It was a windy, blustering day. The dry leaves were flying, and the
weather cocks turned, creaking, around, and Gustave had to hold his
head low for he was only a little boy and the wind nearly pushed him
down. A bent old gentleman, walking with a cane, passed them. Puff,
whisk, the wind took the old gentleman's hat and sent it racing ahead
of him along the street.

But the wonder shoes were quicker than the wind. They carried Gustave
like a flying breeze after the old gentleman's hat. He caught it, and
picked it up and gave it back to the old gentleman, who was very
grateful indeed, and gave Gustave a bright penny.

"A swift little boy!" exclaimed the old gentleman, but Gustave did not
tell him about the wonder shoes. He had decided to keep that for a
secret.

When Gustave and his mother reached home, his mother decided to make a
loaf of white cake. But, alas; when she went to the pantry, she
discovered that she had no butter.

"Run to the grocery shop, Gustave," she said, "and bring me back a
pat of butter by the time that the fire is burning brightly for baking
the cake."

Gustave started for the grocery store, but he had not gone very far on
the way when he met his friend Max, who had a new velocipede, painted
red. Max called to Gustave:

"You may ride my velocipede as much as you like," he said. "We will
take turns."

Gustave stopped. He had no velocipede of his own. He could imagine
himself riding on Max's velocipede, the wheels spinning around so fast
as he played that he was a fire engine chief, or an automobile racer,
or a chariot driver in a circus. But it was only a second that Gustave
stopped. His new shoes would not let hi