At the end of four days, during which I had fashioned and re-fashioned the thing at least fifty times, I had made a petul such as no master of the craft need have been ashamed of; with the second shoe I had less difficulty, and, by the time I had made the fourth, I would have scorned to take off my hat to the best smith in Cheshire.
But I had not yet shod my little gry; {69a} this I proceeded now to do.
After having first well pared the hoofs with my churi, {69b} I applied each petul hot, glowing hot to the pindro.

{69c} Oh, how the hoofs hissed; and, oh, the pleasant pungent odour which diffused itself through the dingle, an odour good for an ailing spirit! I shoed the little horse bravely--merely pricked him once, slightly with a cafi, {69d} for doing which, I remember, he kicked me down; I was not disconcerted, however, but, getting up, promised to be more cautious in future; and having finished the operation, I filed the hoof well with the rin baro; {69e} then dismissed him to graze amongst the trees, and, putting my smaller tools into the muchtar, {69f} I sat down on my stone, and, supporting my arm upon my knee, leaned my head upon my hand.
Heaviness had come over me..