tanding in high relief against
the golden sky. As the young man entered, looking boldly about him,
Shanty asked him what he wanted.

"I want a horse-shoe," he replied.

"A horse-shoe!" returned the blacksmith, "and where's your horse?"

"I has no other horse than Adam's mare," he replied; "I rides no other,
but I want a horse-shoe."

"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?"

"Are you a smith?" said Mr. Dymock, before Shanty could reply.

"Am I a smith?" answered the young man; "I promise you, I should think
little of myself if I was not as much above him, (pointing to Shanty,
who was hammering at his horse-shoe, with his back towards him,) as the
sun is brighter than the stars."

Shanty took no notice of this piece of insolence; but Mr. Dymock having
asked the stranger a few