along with him. By the way, Mr. Hennessy.” As he spoke, Forrest drew forth his pad book, tore off the last note scribbled, and crumpled it in his hand. “You’ve a new horse-shoer in the shop. How does he strike you?”

“He’s too new to make up my mind yet.”

“Well, send him down the hill along with the other two. He can’t take your orders. I observed him just now fitting a shoe to old Alden Bessie by rasping off half an inch of the toe of her hoof.”

“He knew better.”

“Send him down the hill,” Forrest repeated, as he tickled his champing mount with the slightest of spur-tickles and shot her out along the road, sidling, head-tossing, and attempting to rear.