Yes! the village urchins spoke true when they sang outside his window in the evening:
Smith Verholen,
Smith Verholen,
Without wood and without coal,
Without iron and without lead,
Ah! is Smith Verholen dead?
Dead! No, he did not wish to die, however miserable he felt, for that would mean the end of all things, and one is dead such a long time!
He loved to live and to let live, and he still retained a grain of faith in the old proverb, “While there is life there is hope.”
When evening fell, Smith, who for obvious reasons had no thoughts of supper, was aroused from his dreams by a gentle knocking at the door.
No, that could not be an urchin playing him a trick, or a customer, as every one in the village knew of his distress. A stranger perhaps?
Smith got up, opened the door, and saw an old man carrying a carpenter’s bag and leading a donkey, on which sat a young woman, feeding her little baby. By force of habit, Smith said, “What can I do for you, my friend?”
“Smith,” replied the old man, “I know it is a late hour to trouble you; but we have come a very long way, and we have still a very long way to travel to-night. My donkey has cast a shoe; I beg you to shoe the beast at once, that we may continue our journey.”
“I would do so with pleasure, my friend,” said the blacksmith, “but I am very much afraid I have not a horseshoe left. You have no doubt noticed how poverty-stricken I am. However, come along.”
He immediately began to search right and left to see if he could discover a small piece of iron.