WIDOW CARRIES ON AS BLACKSMITH

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17832, 28 April 1926, Page 11

WIDOW CARRIES ON AS BLACKSMITH

“ WE HAD FOUGHT FOR THE FORGE TOGETHER.” Overlooking the village green, at Childrey, Buckinghamshire where geese strut near the railed horse pond and the slender war cross—is a slateroofed smith’s forge—and the bladesmith is a woman! She is the widow of Walter Greenhough, who died a year ago, following a kick from a horse. Since then, with the help of a hired smith, she has carried on the forge, acting as “striker,” iir which capacity she had worked for four years with her husband. “I have many, many friends.” said Mrs Greenhough recently, “and T loved the forge too much to give it up. It’s not only my chosen livelihood, but my life. The old squire, who died a few weeks ago, said he thought I was plucky. “It wasn’t as though I couldn't have earned an honest living in a woman!s way, but when my husband died a year ago the business was a-turning the corner. For four years we had worked together. I helped him to do the tyring—fixing hot iron on the farm carts. I would stand at the side of a horse, ready with the pincers, hammer and nails. Bellows work. Sledge work. Day in, day out. Seven in the morning to five at night.

“Wally loved horses, and they ail knew him at the second shoeing. I’ve heard him say often: ‘Every lioise knows his smith.’ After his funeral, what savings we had all went in squaring things up. But I wouldn’t give

“I couldn’t leave the work. And in carrying on I had a sort of Teeiing that I might be pleasing my dead man. Man and wife, smith and striker, we had fought for the forge together. And I think while I fight he fights still. Pride—and love! . . . At work now in the forge I feel always nearer to him.

“Do I remember the first day I worked with him? When his chance came for getting the forge he found himself ‘stuck' for a striker. No money. ‘You’ve always wanted to go on your own,’ I said, and looked hard at him. ‘Try me! I’m your man’ lie gave a little start, flung out his right arm. and, with his eyes glistening, said: ‘Girl, you shall try your hand.’

“That was the beginning of it. Do 3*ou get a gleaning as to my not want ing to bring it to an end? It’s five years come March since he put m<; into the way of using the hammer. And I’m a good hammer-man now. lie

did the. smithing and me the sledging. I trembled lest I might hit his head and not the anvil when I helped him to beat oxit and weld a roadman’s pick on that first day we worked togethci.”