On the same shelf with the "Vamly Bible," before alluded to, was a real old horn-book, which had belonged to the windmiller's grandmother.
"If thee can't read, thee knows what a book is, thee gawney!" "What a vool I be, to be sure!" said George, his simple countenance lighted up with a broader smile than before. "I knows a book, sartinly, Master Lake, I knows a book. There's one," George continued, speaking even slower than before, "there's one inzide, sir, a big un. On the shelf it be. A Vamly Bible they calls un.
"What are you talking about, ye vool?" roared the miller. "The book, sir, sartinly," said George, his honest face beaming with good-humor. "The Vamly Bible, Master Lake." And as the windmiller went off muttering something which the Family Bible would by no means have sanctioned, George returned chuckling to a leisurely use of his broom on the round-house floor.
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