He would sit quietly and read his instructive book and not occasion the absent Winona any anxiety.
Wherefore the Wilbur twin each Sabbath morning in the woodshed polished three pairs of shoes, and not uncheerfully.

He would, in truth, much rather be there at his task than compelled to sit in the parlour with his brother present to tell if he put inquiring fingers into the lion's cage.
He had finished the shoes of his brother and himself, not taking too much pains about the heels, and now laboured at the more considerable footgear of the judge.

The judge's shoes were not only broad, but of a surface abounding in hills and valleys.

As Dave Cowan said, the judge's feet were lumpy.

But the Wilbur twin was conscientious here, and the judge's heels would be as resplendent as the undulating toes.