In spite of his loneliness and seemingly, hum drum vocation, the shoemaker was externally, always jolly, humming or whistling as he worked. In a corner of his workshop was a heap of old shoes, which were there for repairs. The heap grew as the man took in more jobs, until he realised the extent of his task, which appears impossible to accomplish. Day after day, clients came to collect their repaired shoes without success. The frustrated shoemaker, after failing to meet his commitments, closed his workshop and disappeared. No one knew to where he had gone; but for sure, he was nowhere to be found in his hometown. In another instance, it was mentioned that a man once went to collect his repaired pair of shoes when the shoemaker could find only one side. Antoine, however, never had that problem as the Princes Town shoemaker; his clients were always satisfied with his prompt delivery. He praised his deceased father for passing on his skill to him, and even though, hand crafted shoe-making is a dying art, the skill has now been transferred and adapted to the repairing of suitcases and handbags. Today, his shoe-maker's shop may appear out of step in the midst of the renewed character in the Avenue, but stands as a nostalgic reminder of the past; a crumbled page in the history of old San Fernando. Even though times have changed, it seems to stand still within the weather beaten walls of the old shoe-makers shop, where activity continues to relive the good old time days.