And
if Ebenezer hadn't explained that he was in no danger of losing a foot
there's no knowing what might have happened. Twinkleheels breathed a
sigh of relief; and he made not the slightest trouble for the
blacksmith, but waited patiently while his little shoes were being
hammered into shape.
When the blacksmith took the first one that he made and held it by a
pair of pincers against Twinkleheels' hoof there was a quick sizzling.
And a horrid smoke arose. Twinkleheels snorted with fear.
"Easy! Easy, boy!" the blacksmith said to him. And old Ebenezer made
haste to explain that there was no danger.
"Won't my foot be burned?" Twinkleheels faltered.
"Not enough to do any harm," said Ebenezer. "You don't feel any pain, do
you?"
"No!"
"The shoe's not very hot; and the blacksmith wouldn't hold it against
your hoof long enough to harm you," Ebenezer assured him.
Twinkleheels wriggled his nose.
"I must say I don't care for this smoke," he remarked.
"It's no pleasanter for the blacksmith than for you," Ebenezer reminded
him. "If I were you I shouldn't complain.
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