The Shoe Clerk

From The Tacoma Times, January 24, 1913.
 By Berton Braley.
 

 Each time I go to buy my shoes,
 I say, “Now THIS time I will choose
 A last to fit my dainty foot
 And simply seek Myself to suit.
 I will not let the subtle clerk
 With siren voice and oily smirk
 Persuade me that I ought to fall
 For shoes too pointed and too small.”
 
 But when I enter in the store
 It goes exactly as of yore;
 The clerk convinces me that I
 Have no idea what to buy,
 And by some magic makes me see
 That what he wants to sell to me—
 A pair of shoes too short and tight—
 Is really just exactly right.
 He makes me think a narrow toe
 Is really very broad, and so
 I buy HIS choice—and not the pair
 Which common sense would bid me wear.
 
 Result—my corns their aches renew,
 I have a painful week or two;
 But when that pair wears out—ah, then,
 I’ll do the same fool thing again!