Seven A.M. The church clock rings out the hour in the clear still morning, and the smoke goes up straight into the air from the chimneys of the cottages of Lappington village. One by one the good dames appear at their doors with tucked-up sleeves and heads beshawled, and commence the operation of vigorously shaking strips of carpet, and generally setting things straight.

Their lords and masters have ere this gone to their work, and, with the inevitable short pipe in their mouths, are tramping along best pace to keep up a circulation and keep out the chill of the early morn.

[Pg 213]

But there is another sound which mingles itself with the chiming clock and the Babel of female voices; it is the measured "clang, clang" of iron to iron, and as one wends ones way towards that part of the village from whence it comes, the dull roar of the furnace and the sparks flying upwards tell us that we are approaching "t' smithy," and that Joe Billings and his mate are hard at work.

Presently, three of the Squires horses are seen coming up the road in their clothing, and Joe, having nearly completed the shoeing of the farm nags that had been there since half-past six, turns his attention to the wants of their more noble companions. "Two shod all round and one removed," says the groom as he comes up; "and look here, old man, don't keep us waiting no longer than you can help; it's a bit chilly this morning."

"First come first served," replies Joe; and turning to his mate: "'Ere, Bill, look out them 'unting shoes for t' Squire's 'osses. Who-ho, mare, 'old up;" and the rasp of the file again[Pg 214] plays an accompaniment to the tune that Joe whistles as he works.

"Now then, mayster," says he to the Squire's groom as he finishes; and the hunters being brought up to the forge the anvil chorus strikes up, and the lads clap their hands as the sparks fly from the red-hot iron. More horses arrive, and grooms grumble among themselves at having to wait their turn. Some try and persuade Joe by soft words to give them precedence, others say they wish they had gone to some rival shop; but Joe pays no attention to them, merely giving vent to his favourite maxim: "First come first served."

At last one impatient youngster who does not know the Lappington Blacksmith, having only come down from London a few days before, commences to bully, and says: "Look 'ere, I ain't going to 'ave my 'osses catch their deaths of cold while you tinkers that moke," pointing to a rough pony belonging to a small market-gardener. "I'll just speak to my governor about it. I'm d——d if I'll come[Pg 215] here again. Gemmen's 'osses first's what I say—do'e hear, slow coach?"

Never a word answers Joe, and the bystanders smile; but the young groom loses his temper, and tries to take the "moke," as he calls it, away, and substitute his own horses.

Then Joe does look up, and dropping the foot on which he was at work, says: "My lad, you'll get yourself into trouble in a minute."

"How's that?" asks the groom.

"Why," replies Joe slowly, "if you don't drop that pony's head in two twos, I shall have to teach you manners. I ain't a quarrelsome chap, but when a whipper-snapper like you comes messing with my business it's a bit too hot. I'm blowed if I shan't have to lock you up, or put you in the pond. drop it, will yer?" and then, as the young fool persists, he suddenly walks up to him, seizes him as he would a dog, and putting him into a shed where he keeps his old iron, turns the key, and with a chuckle resumes his work, whistling the while as gaily as ever.

[Pg 216]

Nor does he let the infuriated master of the horse out of his confinement till he has finished the quadrupeds, when, opening the door, with mock politeness, he says: "Your lordship's 'osses is done, if so be you've a mind to take 'em away."

Shouts of laughter greet the groom as he emerges from the shed, and angry as he is he has sense enough to see that the laugh is not on his side; so without a word he trots off, inwardly vowing vengeance against Joe Billings.

"There'll be a bother over this job, Joe," says Harry the Second Whip, who has come down to the forge from the kennels. "Young Cock-a-hoop will make a fine tale of it when he gets home."

"Well," replies Joe, "what can they do? If they takes the shoeing away it won't break me, and when I says a thing I means it. Them as comes first is served first, and if they don't like it they can lump it."

After finishing off with Harry, Joe slips on[Pg 217] his coat (such a coat too! all patched, grimy, and full of small holes burnt by the sparks), and, rolling up his leather apron, he takes himself away to see if "t' missus has got breakfust ready." Half an hour suffices for his meal, and by the time he returns he finds quite a string awaiting his arrival, and he sets to work with a will.

At last he comes to a horse shod on the French system, with the shoe let in and the frog on the ground, and he calls his mate to point it out. "Here, Bill," says he, "here's one of them Charley shoes as I was a-telling you of. Did yer ever see such a fanglement?" "Why, there ain't no bloomin' shoe at all," replies his assistant, gazing open-mouthed, and listening to Joe's lecture on the subject. "Be we to shoe 'un like that, I wonder?"

"No, no, my lad," interrupts the groom in charge; "the governor only tried it as an experiment, and he wants the 'oss shod in the usual way again."

"Proper way, you means," says Joe; "you[Pg 218] won't catch me a-doing an animal after that fashion, I can tell yer. Them experiments is all very well for the Mossoos, who don't 'unt, but when it comes to gitting over a country—laws, it's ridickerlous!"

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