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I have a decided penchant for forges； especially rural ones； placed
in some quaint quiet spot … a dingle； for example； which is a
poetical place； or at a meeting of four roads； which is still more
so； for how many a superstition … and superstition is the soul of
poetry … is connected with these cross roads！ I love to light upon
such a one； especially after nightfall； as everything about a forge
tells to most advantage at night； the hammer sounds more solemnly
in the stillness； the glowing particles scattered by the strokes
sparkle with more effect in the darkness； whilst the sooty visage
of the sastramescro； half in shadow and half illumed by the red and
partial blaze of the forge； looks more mysterious and strange。 On
such occasions I draw in my horse's rein； and； seated in the
saddle； endeavour to associate with the picture before me … in
itself a picture of romance … whatever of the wild and wonderful I
have read of in books； or have seen with my own eyes in connection
with forges。
I believe the life of any blacksmith； especially a rural one； would
afford materials for a highly poetical history。 I do not speak
unadvisedly； having the honour to be free of the forge； and
therefore fully competent to give an opinion as to what might be
made out of the forge by some dexterous hand。 Certainly； the
strangest and most entertaining life ever written is that of a
blacksmith of the olden north； a certain Volundr； or Velint； who
lived in woods and thickets； made keen swords … so keen； indeed；
that if placed in a running stream they would fairly divide an
object； however slight； which was borne against them by the water；
and who eventually married a king's daughter； by whom he had a son；
who was as bold a knight as his father was a cunning blacksmith。 I
never see a forge at night； when seated on the back of my horse； at
the bottom of a dark lane； but I somehow or other associate it with
the exploits of this extraordinary fellow； with many other
extraordinary things； amongst which； as I have hinted before； are
particular passages of my own life； one or two of which I shall
perhaps relate to the reader。
I never associate Vulcan and his Cyclops with the idea of a forge。
These gentry would be the very last people in the world to flit
across my mind whilst gazing at the forge from the bottom of the
dark lane。 The truth is； they are highly unpoetical fellows； as
well they may be； connected as they are with the Grecian mythology。
At the very mention of their names the forge burns dull and dim； as
if snowballs had been suddenly flung into it； the only remedy is to
ply the bellows； an operation which I now hasten to perform。
I am in the dingle making a horse…shoe。 Having no other horses on
whose hoofs I could exercise my art； I made my first essay on those
of my own horse； if that could be called horse which horse was
none； being only a pony。 Perhaps； if I had sought all England； I
should scarcely have found an animal more in need of the kind
offices of the smith。 On three of his feet there were no shoes at
all； and on the fourth only a remnant of one； on which account his
hoofs were sadly broken and lacerated by his late journeys over the
hard and flinty roads。 'You belonged to a tinker before；' said I；
addressing the animal； 'but now you belong to a smith。 It is said
that the household of the shoemaker invariably go worse shod than
that of any other craft。 That may be the case of those who make
shoes of leather； but it shan't be said of the household of him who
makes shoes of iron； at any rate it shan't be said of mine。 I tell
you what； my gry； whilst you continue with me； you shall both be
better shod and better fed than you were with your last master。'
I am in the dingle making a petul； and I must here observe that
whilst I am making a horse…shoe the reader need not be surprised if
I speak occasionally in the language of the lord of the horse…shoe
… Mr。 Petulengro。 I have for some time past been plying the
peshota； or bellows； endeavouring to raise up the yag； or fire； in
my primitive forge。 The angar； or coals； are now burning fiercely；
casting forth sparks and long vagescoe chipes； or tongues of flame；
a small bar of sastra； or iron； is lying in the fire； to the length
of ten or twelve inches； and so far it is hot； very hot； exceeding
hot； brother。 And now you see me prala； snatch the bar of iron；
and place the heated end of it upon the covantza； or anvil； and
forthwith I commence cooring the sastra as hard as if I had been
just engaged by a master at the rate of dui caulor； or two
shillings； a day； brother； and when I have beaten the iron till it
is nearly cool； and my arm tired； I place it again in the angar；
and begin again to rouse the fire with the pudamengro； which
signifies the blowing thing； and is another and more common word
for bellows； and whilst thus employed I sing a gypsy song； the
sound of which is wonderfully in unison with the hoarse moaning of
the pudamengro； and ere the song is finished； the iron is again hot
and malleable。 Behold； I place it once more on the covantza； and
recommence hammering； and now I am somewhat at fault； I am in want
of assistance； I want you； brother； or some one else； to take the
bar out of my hand and support it upon the covantza； whilst I；
applying a chinomescro； or kind of chisel； to the heated iron； cut
off with a lusty stroke or two of the shukaro baro； or big hammer；
as much as is required for the petul。 But having no one to help
me； I go on hammering till I have fairly knocked off as much as I
want； and then I place the piece in the fire； and again apply the
bellows； and take up the song where I left it off； and when I have
finished the song； I take out the iron； but this time with my
plaistra； or pincers； and then I recommence hammering； turning the
iron round and round with my pincers： and now I bend the iron and；
lo and behold！ it has assumed something of the outline of a petul。
I am not going to enter into farther details with respect to the
process … it was rather a wearisome one。 I had to contend with
various disadvantages； my forge was a rude one； my tools might have
been better； I was in want of one or two highly necessary
implements； but； above all； manual dexterity。 Though free of the
forge； I had not practised the albeytarian art for very many years；
never since … but stay； it is not my intention to tell the reader；
at least in this place； how and when I became a blacksmith。 There
was one thing； however； which stood me in good stead in my labour；
the same thing which through life has ever been of incalculable
utility to me； and has not unfrequently supplied the place of
friends； money； and many other things of almost equal importance …
iron perseverance； without which all the advantages of time and
circumstance are of very little avail in any undertaking。 I was
determined to make a horse…shoe； and a good one； in spite of every
obstacle … ay； in spite of dukkerin。 At the end of four days；
during which I had fashioned and refashioned the thing at least
fifty times； I had made a petul such as no master of the craft need
have been ashamed of； with the second shoe I had less difficulty；
and； by the time I had made the fourth； I would have scorned to
take off my hat to the best smith in Cheshire。
But I had not yet shod my little gry： this I proceeded now to do。
After having first well pared the hoofs with my churi； I applied
each petul hot； glowing hot； to the pindro。 Oh； how the hoofs
hissed！ and； oh； the pleasant pungent odour which diffused itself
through the dingle！ … an odour good for an ailing spirit。
I shod the little horse bravely … merely pricked him once；
slightly； with a cafi； for doing which； I remember； he kicked me
down； I was not disconcerted； however； but； getting up； promised to
be more cautious in future； and having finished the operation； I
filed the hoof well with the rin baro； then dismissed him to graze
amongst the trees； and； putting my smaller tools into the muchtar；
I sat down on my stone； and； supporting my arm upon my knee； leaned
my head upon my hand。 Heaviness had come over me。
CHAPTER LXXXIV
Several causes … Frogs and eftes … Gloom and twilight … What should
I do？ … 'Our Father' … Fellow…men … What a mercy！ … Almost calm …
Fresh store … History of Saul … Pitch dark。
HEAVINESS had suddenly come over me； heaviness of heart； and of
body also。 I had accomplished the task which I had imposed upon
myself； and now that nothing more remained to do； my energies
suddenly deserted me； and I felt without strength； and without
hope。 Several causes； perhaps； co…operated to bring about the
state in which I then felt myself。 It is not improbable that my
energies had be