Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1886 — Dead Men's Shoes. [ARTICLE]

Dead Men's Shoes.

"Dead men’s shoes? Yes, sir, several dealers make a specialty of them, and sell large numbers.” The speaker was the proprietor of one of the innumerable second-hand stores which line D street from Eighth to Tenth street, and who* e presence has christened the thoroughfare the “Chatham street” of Washington. “How do you get them?" “Oh, that’s easy enough,” he replied, with a strong Gorman accent acco: r nied by an odor of onions. “We have agents. They go about town, and whenever they see crape on the door they put down the number and street in their memorandum book. Then, after waiting a reasonable time, until the burial is over, the agent calls again and makes an offer for the dead man’s shoes, which is generally accepted. Sometimes the agents buy clothing in the same way, but boots and shoes can always be bought. If they are out of repair we mend them. I guess at least 5,000 pairs are sold on D street every week at an average price of $1 per pair. Colored men are the best customers.” At this point the dealer in pedal coverings of defunct citizens was called inside by the minor clerk, who was trying to force the sale of a large ulster on a very thin man, with the frequent remark that it “fit him like the paper on the Walk— Washington Refiublican,