sheila sims

“You soon got pretty handy with the fire, if I remember rightly. And you can make a well-tempered hoe. We’ll send you off to Faversham where you’ll do your two years of improving, and then you’ll always be welcome back here as a master blacksmith, and maybe take over when my back’s given in and I can’t do no more.’ Len handed Stephen a copy of his indenture, releasing him from his apprenticeship. The crowd applauded as Stephen tucked it into his pocket. ‘Now show us how you handle that anvil,’ Len said. Stephen stepped forwards, cracking his knuckles. He bent down and put both forearms under the anvil. He took a deep breath and tensed the muscles and sinews in his neck before he straightened, slowly lifting the heavy weight off the ground. A roar of cheers went up as he held it steady. ‘His arms are very strong, very strong indeed. He’s handsome, don’t you think?’ Emily said as Stephen gently lowered it down again. ‘He’s”
― Evie Grace, Half a Sixpence: Catherine’s Story