said Joe.

“Shall if I like,” growled Orlick. “Some and their uptowning! Now, master! Come. No favoring in this shop. Be a man!”

The master refusing to entertain the subject until the journeyman was in a better temper, Orlick plunged at the furnace, drew out a red-hot bar, made at me with it as if he were going to run it through my body, whisked it round my head, laid it on the anvil, hammered it out, — as if it were I, I thought, and the sparks were my spirting blood, — and finally said, when he had hammered himself hot and the iron cold, and he again leaned on his hammer, —

“Now, master!”

“Are you all right now?” demanded Joe.