1896.]
THROUGH A CHILD'S EYES.
Among the scenes of my early life, none remain so vivid as that
of the old smithy which stood at the cross-roads. This rude and
smoke-blackened structure wielded over my childish mind a more
powerful fascination than the most imposing palace could com
mand.
Wherein lay the secret of its attraction? Was it the ceaseless
activity that its narrow walls enclosed? Was it the fire and the
bellows? Was it the mysterious process of driving nails into a
horse's foot and inflicting pain? Was it the noise of the mighty
hammer upon the red-hot iron and the accompanying shower of
sparks? I know not; but the picture remains the most faultless
of all childish impressions.
The smith was a powerful man with a right arm that could
'handle the hammer of Thor. Black brows and heavy, matted hair
surmounted a face of ruggedness and strength, rather than refine
ment. Yet he was gentle to all weak things much as a New
foundland dog is loath to inflict pain upon any smaller breed—
having for them a sort of noble contempt. Years spent in the
noise of the shop had made him slightly deaf and sometimes un
kind remarks were made about him in low tones. Occasionally
he heard the cutting speeches, but never a sign of resentment was
shown. He would hammer away, with a quiet, peculiar smile
hovering around his tightly shut lips.
. His influence over horses seemed magical. A farmer would
bring in . an ugly, wild-looking colt to have his first shoes fitted.
The animal would curvet and prance into the customary place,
head up, nostrils distent, ears flat. All hands would suddenly
find employment outside, leaving the smith alone with the horse.
With sundry pats and kind words would the animal be soothed,
and after the shoeing he would walk out with the dignity of an
old trooper. What charms lay in touch and tone?
The forge was a wonder; fire out—nothing but a heap of black
cinders—with a touch of the bellows a blaze would spring up
Through a Child's Eyes.
Then let the land rejoice,
Let youthful voices ring,
The time is here,
That crowns the year;
Oh, let us shout and sing !
P. L. P