“It’s making every move count.”

That’s professor Eugene L. Jones’s expert advice on becoming a rapid shoe blacker.

A hundred years ago, Jones laid claim to the title of Champion Shinologist of America, and he had plenty of satisfied shoe shine customers in the Twin Cities to back him up.

A photo and interview with Jones appeared in the June 9, 1911, edition of the Lewiston Evening Journal. For 20 years, Jones had worked at shoe shine stands all over Lewiston, and he told a reporter the secrets of his success as he worked up a dazzling shine on the dress shoes of a man seated in a raised chair with his feet on the shoe rests in front of Jones. The photo showed Jones dressed in a white shirt and black vest, and sporting a neat haircut and a narrow nicely trimmed moustache. His shining rag trailed from his back pocket.

“Lots of fellows can hustle and bustle and fume and fret and yet not turn off the shoes with anything like rapidity. That’s the science of shoe shining,” Jones said.

It’s also an art, he declared, daring the reporter to check some of the town’s other establishments where they “daub on the blackening paste and oil,” and finish with “slab sided methods of rubbing out and getting the surface polish on.”

The tongue-in cheek account continued, ”Being properly impressed with the professor’s observations, we mildly inquired if there was any record for quick work in shoe shining.”

There was, Jones replied. And he held that record of one minute and 59 seconds, he said. Jones told how he set the mark a number of years earlier in the old subway stand under Abbott’s Drug Store (presumably in Boston) against 16 other competitors.

Jones said he beat the next best time by one second, and that shiner came so close only because Jones gave him some advice.

“Aw, sure I could a done it a bit faster had it been necessary, but I knew it wan’t. I knew just about what the lad could do and he was the only one as could touch me.”

The proud champ pulled his polishing rag from his pocket and asked, “Would you think I’d used it a week? There’s none of the other fellows here can do that.”

To demonstrate, Jones “brought the cloth across the shoe. It was a feathery touch, but its effect was apparent. A gloss shine where the cloth had passed. Another move brightened the gloss and with “a peculiar twisting movement” the cloth passed to the other shoe.

The story said Jones started shining as a small kid on the streets of Lewiston.

“His first shining outfit consisted of a salt box with a rough-shaped block of wood nailed on its top, a leather strap attached to it, a couple of brushes and a box of blacking.”

With these, he wandered the streets of the city shouting at the top of his lungs, “Shine ’em! Shine ’em up for a dime!”

Jone said it was tougher work in the early days.

“That’s in the days when they all wore the cow hides … long-legged ones and you had to black from the tops down. It was fifteen minutes work for ten cents.”

After two years, Jones opened a stand “down by the bridge near Noyes’s cigar store.” He was a familiar fixture at the location, except for when he would tour the U.S. and Canada with an acting company. Jones said he played small roles and specialty acts, and he told the reporter he was just about ready to take to the stage again. He said he and a young lady who sang and danced were “in negotiations” with Manager Bibber of the Music Hall and their first appearance in Lewiston would take place in a few months.

In these days of high-priced running, walking and training footwear, there’s little thought to a career in shoe shining. If a shine is needed on a pair of dress shoes or military boots, it’s now a do-it-yourself job, and it would be nice to have the benefit of professor Jones’ advice and expertise.

Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and a native of Auburn. He may be reached by sending email to [email protected].