"All day and maybe longer," said the smith—"that is, if you depend on that clumsy lad."
"Well, I don't want to depend on him," said Puss, with a grin; "neither do I want to take chances with my good horse."
"Neither shall you, my Lord Cat," replied the smith. "I will see that your horse is well shod, for he is indeed a fine beast."
"He has good legs, has he not?" asked Puss, running his paw down the foreleg of the big gray horse, like a professional horseman.
"He has that," said the blacksmith, "and a fine head, too."
"He's a good roadster," added Puss, seating himself on a three-legged stool while the smith lifted the horse's leg and held it between his knees.
"Yes, he has good feet," said the smith, "and he shall have a fine shoe."
Here a nail, and there a nail, tick, tack, too.
As soon as the shoe was on, Puss, Junior, mounted and rode away. But before he left he turned to Jack and said: