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 bantering about it, he finally was to have it; but he was to pay three hundred dollars for it, and his brother was to keep it until harvest.

"When I keep it until then, I shall have ground food enough to last many years," thought he.

Of coarse the mill got no chance to grow rusty during the next six months, and when harvest-time came, the rich brother got it; but the other man had taken good care not to show him how to regulate it. It was in the evening that the rich man brought the mill home, and in the morning he bade his wife go and spread the hay after the mowers,—he would get dinner ready, he said. Toward dinner he put the mill on the table.

"Grind fish and gruel: Grind both well and fast!" said the man, and the mill began to grind fish and gruel. It first filled all the dishes and tubs full, and after that it covered the whole floor with fish and gruel. The man kept puttering and tinkering, and tried to get the mill to stop; but no matter how he turned it and fingered at it, the mill kept on, and before long the gruel got so deep in the room that the man was on the point of drowning. Then he opened the door to the sitting-room, but before long that room was filled too, and the man had all he could do to get hold of the door-latch down in this flood of gruel. When he got the door open he did not remain long in the room. He ran out as fast as he could, and there was a perfect flood of fish gruel behind, deluging the yard and his fields.

The wife, who was in the meadow making hay, began to think that it took a long time to get dinner ready.