“Tabhair chugam?” said the smith, stretching out his grimy hand.
“No, I shan’t,” said I; “some people are glad to get their money when their work is done.”
The fellow hammered a little longer, and then proceeded to shoe the cob, after having first surveyed it with attention. He performed his job rather roughly, and more than once appeared to give the animal unnecessary pain, frequently making use of loud and boisterous words. By the time the work was done, the creature was in a state of high excitement, and plunged and tore. The smith stood at a short distance, seeming to enjoy the
irritation of the animal, and showing, in a remarkable manner, a huge fang, which projected from the under jaw of a very wry mouth.
“You deserve better handling,” said I, as I went up to the cob and fondled it; whereupon it whinnied, and attempted to touch my face with its nose.
“Are ye not afraid of that beast?” said the smith, showing his fang. “Arrah, it’s vicious that he looks!”
“It’s at you, then!—I don’t fear him;” and thereupon I passed under the horse, between its hind legs.
“And is that all you can do, agrah?” said the smith.
“No,” said I, “I can ride him.”
“Ye can ride him, and what else, agrah?”