"I've made the shoes and nails, Mr. Richardson; and I'll tell you what I've been thinking of. I suppose money is none too plenty with you."
"You may well say that, Tom; for I'm paying for my land, and every cent counts."
"Well, now, you can, while you are waiting for your grist, go round the village, and pick up old iron, and perhaps some steel, that won't cost you one quarter what it would to buy new at the store, and be just as good, and better, for your use, as it will be smaller, and save hammering. Only look out that it is not too rusty. Perhaps you remember Bosworth, the stone-mason."
"Very well. He made the stones in the grist-mill, and built the piers of the great bridge."
"He died this last winter, and his widow has his drills and other tools, and wants to sell 'em. The drills are all steel, and the best of steel, too; and I've no doubt you could buy 'em for half what the same amount of steel would cost you at the store, and perhaps for even less."
In accordance with this advice, Richardson went to the place, and bought four hand-drills, a foot or more in length, used for splitting stone, and two dozen steel wedges. The latter, he thought, would, at some future time, serve to make toe-calks for horse-shoes. The purchase that delighted him most of all, however, was a churn-drill. This was four feet in length; but only four inches of each end was steel, being much worn, the remainder iron, shaped like the stalk of a seed onion, with a bulb of iron in the middle, three inches in diameter. He also bought a light stone-hammer. This was likewise a great acquisition, as it would serve the purpose of a sledge. Clem could now strike with it for a short time, and would, in a few months, be able to handle it easily; for he was large of his age, and muscular. He could likewise get one of his neighbors to strike, upon an emergency. Pursuing his search, he found several old axes, beetle-rings, three mill-files, the handle of a kitchen shovel, one leg of a pair of kitchen tongs, and an old crane (the latter was a large piece of iron), and some old ox-shoes. At the mill he obtained some of the mill-stone picks that had become too short for use.
Just as he had finished his supper that night, Tom made his appearance at Hanson's with the shoes, nails, and his tools. A rope was procured, and the oxen were cast on the barn floor. Richardson held a candle, stuck into a potato, while Hanson assisted Tom. The latter put on the new shoes, clinched up all the old ones that were loose, and, with a smith's large file, sharpened the dull calks.
He not only refused to take any pay for his work, avowing that Jack Drew was hog enough for one small place, but, sitting down before the fire with Richardson, gave him a great deal of valuable information respecting working iron.
In the morning Richardson rose early, and prepared to start. After paying his expenses at Hanson's, he was able to buy considerable iron at the store, and still had a little money left. The wind was north-west, a bright sun, the ice smooth and hard, and the cattle, sharpshod, were able to travel. Thoroughly rested, and eager to get home, they seemed to regard the load no more than though it had been feathers. Snorting with eagerness, proud of their new shoes, and perhaps elated with the idea of having been to the village, they could at first scarcely be kept from breaking into a run.
Was not Will Richardson a happy man that bright, sunny morning! The keen air braced his limbs, and his heart throbbed with joy. Things had turned out so much better than he anticipated. He feasted his eyes upon the iron and steel—the great bar, the nail rods—he had bought at the store, or rather the thin bar he had purchased to be split into nail rods; for at that day iron did not come from the forges in shapes to suit the smiths, but in large bars, and there was a vast deal of work to be done with the sledge and hammer.