birthday, I forged a shoe the equal of your last, that he said I
could not make a better.' And so saying he died. Now I had no other
relative in all the world except my Great-Aunt, the Wise Woman of
the Bush Hovel, and her I had never seen; but I thought I could not
do better in my extremity than go to her for counsel. So,
shouldering my father's tools, I journeyed west until I came to her
place, and found her trying to break in a new birch-broom that was
still too green and full of sap to be easily mastered; and she was
in a very bad temper. Good day, Great-Aunt,' I said, I am your
Great-Niece Viola.' I have no more use for great nieces,' she
snapped, than for little ones.' And she continued to tussle with
the broomstick and took no further notice of me. Then I went into
the Hovel, where a fire burned on the hearth, and I took out my
tools and fashioned a bit on the hob; and when it was ready I took
it to her and said, This will teach it its manners'; and she put
the bit on the broom, which became as docile as a lamb. Great-Niece,'
said she, it appears that I told you a lie this morning.
What can I do for you?' Tell me, if you please, how I am to live
now that my father is dead.' There is no need to tell you,' said
she; you have your living at your fingers' ends.' But women cannot
be smiths,' said I. Then become a lad,' said she, and ply your
trade where none knows you; and lest men should suspect you by your
face, which fools though they be they might easily do, let it be so
sooted from week's end to week's end that none can discover what you
look like; and if any one remarks on it, put it down to your trade.'
But Great-Aunt,' I said, I could not bear to go dirty from week's
end to week's end.' If you will be so particular,' she said, take
a bath every Saturday night and spend your Sundays with me, as fair
as when you were a babe. And before you go to work again on Monday
you shall once more conceal your fairness past all men's