The Tale of Pony Twinkleheels Part 8

"I don't know who you are, madam," he snapped. "But I'd like you to understand that I'm no colt. I'm a pony. And I must say that I think you owe me an apology."

XVII

A WHITE VIXEN

The white mare that the blacksmith was shoeing looked much surprised when Twinkleheels told her he was not a colt.

"Well, well!" she cried. "A pony, eh? Who'd have thought it? Anyhow, you've never been shod in your life. I can tell that by the way you act." And she cackled in a most unpleasant fashion.

"What shall I say to her?" Twinkleheels asked Ebenezer. "She hasn't apologized to me."

"Pay no attention to her," the old horse advised him in an undertone.

"She's a low bred person. I've often met her on the road and she always wants to stop and talk. But I hurry past her."

"What are you saying?" the white mare asked in a sour tone. "Are you gossiping about me?" She laid her ears back and showed her yellow teeth.

"You see why I don't care to have anything to do with her," Ebenezer muttered to Twinkleheels.

"I'd kick you if I could reach you--and that pony too," the white mare squealed. "I'm a lady--I am. And you'd better be careful what you say about me."

Because she was angry and couldn't kick either Twinkleheels or Ebenezer she felt that she must kick somebody. So she let fly at the blacksmith, who had just stepped up beside her.

Strangely enough, instead of jumping away from her, the blacksmith crowded as close to her as he could get. He knew what he was about. He hadn't shod horses for twenty years without learning something about them. He stood so near the white mare that her kick hadn't room to get going well. And the blacksmith wasn't hurt. He was merely disgusted.

"I declare," he said to Farmer Green, "this mare is the meanest critter that comes into my shop. She doesn't know anything except how to kick and bite. That old horse of yours is worth a dozen like her. I'd give more for his tail than I would for her."

Ebenezer tried to look unconcerned. The blacksmith had a hearty voice.

n.o.body in the shop could help hearing what he said. And Twinkleheels made up his mind that the blacksmith shouldn't have any reason to speak of him as he had of the silly white mare.

Twinkleheels watched sharply as the blacksmith captured a hind foot of the white mare's and held it between his knees. Then he began to nail on the shoe.

One thing puzzled Twinkleheels. Every time the blacksmith struck a blow with his hammer he gave a funny grunt. Twinkleheels nudged Ebenezer with his nose.

"Do you hear that?" he asked. "Is he related to Grunty Pig--a sort of cousin, perhaps?"

The old horse Ebenezer gasped.

"Bless you, no!" he exclaimed.

"Then why does he grunt?"

"Oh, that's just a way he has," said Ebenezer. "Some blacksmiths think it's stylish to grunt like that."

By this time the white mare seemed to be in a pleasanter frame of mind.

At least, she let the blacksmith nail a shoe on each of her feet without making any objection--except to switch her tail now and then. And just as the blacksmith finished with her a man came and led her away.

"Now," said the blacksmith, "I'm ready to shoe the pony. And if he's as clever as he looks I shan't have a bit of trouble with him."

When he heard that, Twinkleheels made up his mind that he would behave his best, no matter what happened.

XVIII

NEW SHOES

The blacksmith patted Twinkleheels and picked up one of his forefeet.

Then the blacksmith took a chisel and began to pare away at the h.o.r.n.y hoof. Twinkleheels looked over the blacksmith's shoulder. And what he saw gave him a start.

"Great green gra.s.s!" he cried to Ebenezer. "Is he going to cut my foot off?"

"No, indeed!" Ebenezer answered. "The blacksmith always pares my feet a bit when he fits new shoes. He may have to trim yours a good deal, because you've never worn shoes and your feet have never been pared."

In spite of his resolve to be on his best behavior, Twinkleheels had been tempted to pull his foot from between the blacksmith's knees. 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 a.s.sured 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. Just see what pretty shoes the blacksmith has made for you!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Spot Tells Twinkleheels He is Slow. (Page 90)]

"They're the nicest I've ever seen," Twinkleheels said. "After I wear them a while and they get shiny on the bottoms, how they will twinkle in the sunlight when I'm trotting along the road!"

In a few minutes more the blacksmith had nailed all of Twinkleheels'

four shoes to his feet. It seemed to Twinkleheels that he could never wait until Ebenezer was shod. He was in a great hurry to get out on the street and show his new shoes to the people in the village.

At last Ebenezer too was fitted out with new shoes. As Farmer Green led him out of the shop, and Johnnie Green led Twinkleheels, a queer look came over Twinkleheels' face.