Then Twinkleheels
followed.
"Goodness!" he cried to Ebenezer a moment later. "This place is afire.
Let's get outside at once!" He had caught sight of a sort of flaming
table against one of the walls.
"Don't be alarmed!" Ebenezer said. "That's only the forge. That's where
the blacksmith heats the shoes red hot, so he can pound them into the
proper shape to fit the feet."
Twinkleheels had trembled with fear. And now he had scarcely recovered
from his fright when a terrible clanging clatter startled him. He
snorted and pulled back. He would have run out of the smithy had not
Johnnie Green tied his halter rope to a ring in the wall.
"Don't do that!" the old horse Ebenezer called to him. "There's no
danger. That noise is nothing to be afraid of. It's only the smith
pounding a horseshoe on his anvil."
Twinkleheels looked relieved--and just a bit sheepish.
"I'm glad you came with me," he said, "I'd have been frightened if
you--." A queer hiss made Twinkleheels forget what he was saying.
"What's that?" he cried. "Is there a goose hidden somewhere in the
smithy?"
"No! The smith put the hot shoe into a tub of water, to cool," Ebenezer
explained.
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