articlesforchristians

The Four Horseshoes

The blacksmith and Polly and Peter went into the shop. It was fun inside. The children had often seen the blacksmith fit shoes on horses’ feet.

They liked to watch him hammer the white-hot iron. They liked to see the sparks that the hammer made. They liked to watch his fire.

“Why, there is Mary, our horse,” said Polly. “I did not know that she was over here.”

“I have been shoeing her. She is all ready to go to the store. I shall lead her. You may both ride on her back.”

“Oh, goody, goody!” cried Polly. “Sometimes father lets us do that.”

“Here are two presents for you, Polly. And here are two presents for you, Peter. Do you know what they are?”

“They look like horseshoes,” said Polly. “Thank you very much. But what odd little horseshoes! Did you make them for Mary? I guess that they did not fit her.”

“I did not make them for Mary. Can you guess what they are for?”

“They are just big enough for Tim’s goat,” said Peter.

“They are not for Billy,” said the blacksmith.” Guess again.”

“Are they for a little calf?”

“No,” said the blacksmith. “And I think that you had better look at Billy’s feet. Then I think that you had better look at a calf’s feet. You will see that round shoes would not fit them.”

“Then what are these for?” asked Polly. “I cannot guess.”

“I made them for a pony. If you were my children, maybe I should buy you a pony for your very own.”

“Oh, would you?” asked Peter. “I should like that. But I cannot be your boy, because I am my father’s.”

“Show him what I gave you. Tell him that you would like a pony to fit those four shoes. Well, Polly, what is the matter?”

“Nothing much,” said Polly. “I just dropped my horseshoes into my apron pocket. I forgot that my egg was there. It is all broken, now.”

“I should say it is, Polly. Come over here and clean up a little. Wipe out that pocket. Now are you ready? Then up you go on Mary. Peter first, Polly behind.”

“It is quite slippery up here,” said Peter. “Maybe I shall slide off.”

“That will not matter, unless you have eggs in your pocket, too. Have you, Peter?”

“No,” said Peter, “just horseshoes.”

“Then forward march,” said the blacksmith. And off they started.