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And it was some words muttered by the doctor when he did come, about not having been sent for soon enough, which were now doing as much as any thing to drive the poor woman frantic. They struck a blow, too, at her blind belief in the miller's invariable wisdom. If he had but listened to her in this matter, were it only for love's sake!
"'Good-bye, little Hans, said the Miller, as he went up the hill with the plank on his shoulder, and the big basket in his hand. "'Good-bye, said little Hans, and he began to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased about the wheelbarrow. "The next day he was nailing up some honeysuckle against the porch, when he heard the Miller's voice calling to him from the road.
"Who knows whether that will ever happen?" thought the miller's daughter; and, not knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more span the straw into gold. And when the King came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller's daughter became a Queen.
He was in a hurry to be gone and was afraid of being left alone with Sabine again. He was almost relieved when the miller's wife said that Sabine was unwell, and had caught cold during the drive and would not be going that morning. His journey home was melancholy.
Much the miller's son fell to roasting the deer afresh, while another and fatter beast was set to frizzle on the other side of the fire. Presently the appetizing odor of the cooking reached the Bishop's nostrils, and he sniffed it eagerly. The morning's ride had made him hungry; and he was nothing loath when they bade him come to the dinner.
She had never gone behind horses in all her life, except once or twice in a wagon when the tired teamsters had dragged a load of corn across the plains, or when the miller's old gray mare had hobbled wearily before a cart-load of noisy, happy, mischievous children going home from the masses and fairs, and flags, and flowers, and church banners, and puppet-shows, and lighted altars, and whirling merry-go-rounds of the Fête Dieu.
The miller's lowering eyes rested on his shadowy outline as he sat thus engaged, for a moment, and then he broke out suddenly: "Yes, this hyar still is the place fur news, an' the place ter look out fur what ye don't expec' ter happen.
She was leaning her elbows on her knees, and had her face in her hands. Yermolai was sitting with his back to me, and thrusting sticks into the fire. 'They've the cattle-plague again at Zheltonhiny, the miller's wife was saying; 'father Ivan's two cows are dead Lord have mercy on them! 'And how are your pigs doing? asked Yermolai, after a brief pause. 'They're alive.
Miller's ringing tones from the rear of the church. "I don't know why," argued Maria Sharp. "I'm going to mend my Aunt Achsa's cushion, and we haven't spoken for years; but hers is the next pew to mine, and I'm going to have my part of the church look decent, even if she is too stingy to do her share.
It was a day or two after the burial of the miller's three children, that, as Jan sat at dinner with Abel and his two parents, he was struck by the way in which the mill cats hung about Abel, purring and rubbing themselves against his legs. "I do think they misses the others," he whispered to his foster- brother, and his tears fell thick and fast on to his plate. Abel made no answer.
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