ron, is lying in the fire, to the length of ten or twelve
inches, and so far it is hot, very hot, exceeding hot, brother. And now
you see me, prala, {268b} snatch the bar of iron, and place the heated
end of it upon the covantza, {268c} or anvil, and forthwith I commence
cooring {268d} the sastra as hard as if I had been just engaged by a
master at the rate of dui caulor, or two shillings, a day, brother; and
when I have beaten the iron till it is nearly cool, and my arm tired, I
place it again in the angar, and begin again to rouse the fire with the
pudamengro, which signifies the blowing thing, and is another and more
common word for bellows; and whilst thus employed I sing a Gypsy song,
the sound of which is wonderfully in unison with the hoarse moaning of
the pudamengro, and ere the song is finished, the iron is again hot and
malleable. Behold, I place it once more on the covantza, and recommence
hammering; and now I am somewhat at fault; I am in want of assistance; I
want you, brother, or some one else, to take the bar out of my hand and
support it upon the covantza, whilst I, applying a chinomescro, or kind
of chisel, to the heated iron, cut off with a lusty stroke or two of the
shukaro {268e} baro, or big hammer, as much as is required for the petul.
But having no one to help me, I go on hammering till I have fairly
knocked off as much as I want, and then I place the piece in the fire,
and again apply the bellows, and take up the song where I left it off;
and when I have finished the song, I take out the iron, but this time
with my plaistra, or pincers, and then I recommence hammering, turning
the iron round and round with my pincers: and now I bend the iron, and,
lo and behold! it has assumed something of the outline of a petul.

I am not going to enter into farther details with respect to the
process--it was rather a wearisome one. I had to contend with various
disadvantages; my forge was a rude one, my tools might have been better;
I was in want of one or two highly necessary implements, but, above all,
manual dexterity. Though free of the forge, I had not practised the
albeytarian art for very many years, never since--but stay, it is not my
intention to tell the reader, at least in this place, how and when I
became a blacksmith. There was one thing, however, which stood me in
good stead in my labour, the same thing which through life has ever been
of incalculable utility to me, and has not unfrequently sup