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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Farmer Hartley's gran'f'ther was the last miller," replied Bubble Chirk. "My father used to say he could just remember him, standin' at the mill-door, all white with flour, an' rubbin' his hands and laughin', jes' the way Farmer does. He was a good miller, father said, an' made the mill pay well.
She saw, sometimes, his two little girls and boy playing about the mill-door, and they were round and fat, and jolly, just like their father. At last, one day Oostogah went down to the mill, and Donee plucked up her courage and followed him.
'Come, said I, 'mayhap the miller will take ruth on me. Near the mill was a haystack, and scattered about were store of little barrels; but lo they were not flour-barrels, but tar-barrels, one or two, and the rest of spirits, Brant vein and Schiedam; I knew them momently, having seen the like in Holland. I knocked at the mill-door, but none answered.
He spoke soothingly to him, and walked with him over the mill, telling him of changes that might be made, and asking him questions till he grew cheerful again, and more like his usual self; then taking possession of Silas Bean's sleigh that was "hitched" at the mill-door, he proposed to drive him home, because the March sun had melted the new-fallen snow, leaving the street both slippery and wet, as he took care to explain, so that he need not suspect that he was more careful than usual about him.
"Ay, right fair," replied Amy in that manner which shows that the speaker's thoughts are away elsewhere. But she did not offer to go; she lingered about the mill-door, in the style of one who has something to say which she is puzzled or unwilling to bring out. "You seem weary," said Mr Ewring, kindly; "pray you, sit and rest you a space in the porch." Amy took the seat suggested at once.
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