The excitement now waxed high, and many started off to measure the distance for themselves, shouting one to another as they went. As for the smith, he stood beside me, whistling, and I saw that the twinkle was back in his eyes again.
"One hunner and twenty!" cried half-a-dozen voices.
"And a half," corrected Job, thrusting the hammer into my hand, and grinning.
"Can 'ee beat that?" inquired Black George again.
"Ay, can 'ee beat that?" echoed the crowd.
"It was a marvellous throw!" said I, shaking my head. And indeed, in my heart I knew I could never hope to equal, much less beat, such a mighty cast. I therefore decided on strategy, and, with this in mind, proceeded, in a leisurely fashion, once more to mark out the circle, which was obliterated in places, to flatten the surface underfoot, to roll up my sleeves, and tighten my belt; in fine, I observed all such precautions as a man might be expected to take before some supreme effort.
At length, having done everything I could think of to impress this idea upon the onlookers, I took up the hammer.
"Means to do it this time!" cried the man with the rake; knocking off Job's hat in his excitement, as, with a tremendous swing, I made my second throw. There was a moment's breathless silence as the hammer hurtled through the air, then, like an echo to its fall, came a shout of laughter, for the distance was palpably far short of the giant smith's last. A moment later Job came pacing up, and announced:
"Eighty-seven!" Hereupon arose a very babel of voices:
"You've got un beat a'ready, Jarge!"