He's an old cobbler (修鞋匠) with a shop in a historic area in Paris. When I took him my shoes, he told me, "I haven't time. Take them to other fellow on the main street.
Just looking at his bench (load) with tools and pieces of leather, I knew the craftsman (手艺人) was rather (skill). "No," I replied, "the other fellow can't do it well."
"The fellow he mentioned" is one of those shopkeepers who fix shoes and make keys without knowing much about mending shoes or making keys. They work (careless), and when they have finished sewing back a sandal strap (鞋带), you might as well just throw away the pair. The reason I wanted to have my shoes repaired in the shop is that the man works very carefully.
The man (have) me write my name on one shoe with a piece of chalk and said, "Come back tomorrow."
I was about to leave he took a pair of soft leather (boot) off a shelf.
"See what I can do?" he said with pride. "Only three us in Paris can do this kind of work."
The cobbler was something out of an ancient legend, this old craftsman with his way of speaking familiarly, his very strange, dusty hat, his funny accent and, above all, his pride in his craft.
In such a period it is a rare comfort to find a cobbler who gets his greatest (satisfy) from pride in a job well done.
