There is not much to say, other than: these people were all very friendly, allowing me to stand in their way as they busily ran with red-hot iron from the furnace to the anvil. They each had a role. One would heat the pieces to be worked, another held them in their proper position, from time to time turning them in another position so the ones who were beating with their hammers could better give it its proper form. Two would start beating straight away, the one working the furnace would join them. They beat the iron each in turn, like clockwork.
The furnace was the place to return to time and again.