He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and began to recall the picture.
My heart was pounding until in my own ears it sounded like an anvil chorus.
He was a real sleight-of-hand man, and the anvil was his orchestra.
In the middle of this chamber, two smiths, with hammers, stood beside an anvil.
Rotha could hear the thick breathing of the bellows and the thin tinkle ...