When his brother saw it, he set his heart on having the mill, and, after
some talk, it was agreed that the rich brother was to get it at
hay-harvest time, when he was to pay three hundred dollars for it. Now,
you may fancy the mill did not grow rusty for want of work, for while he
had it the poor brother made it grind meat and drink that would last for
years. When hay-harvest came, the rich brother got it, but he was in
such a hurry to make it grind that he forgot to learn how to handle it.
It was evening when the rich brother got the mill home, and next morning
he told his wife to go out into the hayfield and toss hay while the
mowers cut the grass, and he would stay at home and get the dinner
ready. So, when dinner time drew near, he put the mill on the kitchen
table and said:
"Grind herrings and broth, and grind them good and fast."
And the mill began to grind herrings and broth; first of all the dishes
full, then all the tubs full, and so on till the kitchen floor was quite
covered. The man twisted and twirled at the mill to get it to stop, but
for all his fiddling and fumbling the mill went on grinding, and in a
little while the broth rose so high that the man was nearly drowning. So
he threw open the kitchen door and ran into the parlor, but it was not
long before the mill had ground the parlor full too, and it was only at
the risk of his life that the man could get hold of the latch of the
house door through the stream of broth.
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