CHAPTER THREE
When you arrive at the blacksmith’s, he looks you over skeptically. “You’re a little small,” he says. “Wouldn’t you be better suited to something else? Candle-making, maybe?”
“Oh, no, sir,” you answer. “I’d rather be a blacksmith than a candle-maker.”
“Why’s that?”
“A candle-maker’s works are wicked.”
The blacksmith blinks. You grin. And you sign a contract beginning your apprenticeship.
It’s varied work, to say the least. Blacksmiths do everything from making nails to shoeing horses. You’re certainly never bored!
Unfortunately, the good times can’t last forever. You are a little small, and you end up wrenching your shoulder badly. You try to hide it, but the blacksmith notices when you can’t strike the metal properly.
“I’m sorry, lad, but if you can’t work, you can’t work. I’ll have to let you go.”
How easily you’re out of a job. You have a little money saved away: enough for the Doctor, if you’re careful about how much you spend on food. Maybe he could look at your shoulder.
Then again, is it better to save your money? You could stay with your cousins Agnes and Flora and hope your shoulder heals itself.
What do you do?
