"You little one, run away," cried the man in care of the horses; and
Hetty stole into the forge and stood nearer to the fire than she had
ever dared to do before.
"Hallo!" shouted Big Ben the smith; "if this mite hasn't got the courage
of ten! Be off, you little baggage, if you don't want to have those
pretty curls o' yours singed away as bare as a goose at Michaelmas! As
for sparks in your eyes, you sha'n't have 'em, for you don't want 'em.
Eyes are bright enough to light up a forge for themselves."
"Aye," said the carter, "my missus and I often say she's too pretty a
one for the likes of us to have the bringing up of on our hands. And
she's a rare one for havin' her own way, she is. Just bring her out by
the hand, will you, Ben, while I keep these horses steady till she gets
away?"
Big Ben led the little maid outside the forge, and said, "Now run away
and play with the other children"; and then he went back to set about
the shoeing of John Kane's mighty cart-horses, or rather the cart-horses
of Mr. Enderby of Wavertree Hall.
Little Hetty, thus expelled, dared not return to the forge, but she
walked backwards down the road, gazing at the horses as long as she
could see them.
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