"You are a pretty fellow," returned Shanty "to want a horse-shoe, and to have never a horse to wear him."
"Did you never hear of no other use for a horse-shoe, besides protecting a horse's hoof?" replied the youth.
"I have," returned the blacksmith, "I have heard fools say, that neither witch nor warlock can cross a threshold that has a horse-shoe nailed over it. But mind I tell you, it must be a cast shoe."
"Well" said the young man, "suppose that I am plagued with one of them witches; and suppose that I should have bethought me of the horse-shoe, what would you think of me then? What may that be which you are now shaping; why may it not serve my turn as well as another? so let me have it, and you shall have its worth down on the nail."
"Did not I tell you," said Shanty, sullenly, "that it must be a cast shoe that must keep off a witch; every fool allows that."
"Well," said the young man, looking about him, "have you never a cast shoe?"
"No," replied Shanty, "I have none here fit for your turn."
"I am not particular," returned the young man, "about the shoe being an old one; there is as much virtue, to my thinking, in a new one; so let me have that you are about."
"You shall have none of my handiworks, I tell you," said Shanty, decidedly, "for none of your heathenish fancies and follies. The time was when I lent myself to these sort of follies, but, thank my God, I have learned to cast away, aye, and to condemn such degrading thoughts as these. Believe me, young man, that if God is on your side, neither witch nor warlock, or worse than either, could ever hurt you."
"Well," said the young man, "if you will not make me one, will you let me make one for myself?"