The Black Swans 



and those old farm teams were so 

 lovable. They would stand and fairly 

 go to sleep while the old horse-tail 

 fly-brush was being plied and the 

 shoer's work performed. On the ranch, 

 on the contrary, it was in some cases a 

 free fight between man and beast, in 

 which one used a bar of iron on the 

 ribs or head of his adversary, and the 

 other his heels. Even the expedient of 

 tightly roping one foreleg did not suffice 

 in one case I recall. The farrier was 

 temporarily foiled by the little moun- 

 tain devil deliberately lying flat and 

 kicking on the floor. This particular 

 shoer had a broken leg as a memento 

 of some such former session with a 

 cantankerous subject. But of these 

 broncos more anon. I should not 

 imagine that the managers of accident 

 insurance companies would class shoers 

 of cow ponies as preferred risks in 

 their business. 



I know that our fire set could have 

 been made beautifully by hand by 



[42] 



