n
the baby earned many a penny by blowing the soot out of the cottage
chimneys and the dust from corners in the goodwives' spandy floors. But
the Miller himself did not encourage all this. "Best stick to your home
mill, my sons," he said, "and good will come of it. Do not waste your
breath in blowing small things, and one day your breath shall blow us
into fortune." And this seemed likely to be true; for every day they
were becoming more famous and more rich. And all the other millers in
the land were so jealous that they could not sleep o' nights.

II

There came a time when the Miller was kept busy indeed, and proudly so.
For he had been commanded by the King himself to grind one thousand
sacks of flour for the wedding-cookery of the young Prince, his son. The
Prince was to cross the sea to be married to the daughter of the proud
King of Outland; and when he had brought his fair bride home there was
to be great rejoicing,--feasting and merrymaking at the capital of the
Land of Windmills. And the Miller's flour was to make the huge
wedding-cake and a little cake for each of the guests. For his share in
all this preparation the Miller was to receive a great price,--a bag of
gold. So he hurried about, and the children blew, and the windmill
whirled, and dusty flour went pouring into the King's sacks, until all
was done. Then the Miller sat proudly at the head of his table,
surrounded by his proud family, and with the sack of gold in the middle
of the board for them to admire.

They were eating their goodly supper and drinking the health of the
Prince and his bride, for the morrow was to be the wedding-day. Every
one was talking and laughing under his breath--for they dared not laugh
aloud nowadays, for fear of blowing out all the lights. Suddenly there
came the galloping of horses' hoofs along the highway and a thundering
knock at the door.

"Open!" cried a voice. "A messenger of the King!"

The fat Miller ran to the door and undid the bolts as fast as he could,
while his children crowded around to hear the King's message. But they
held their breaths, lest the message be blown away as soon as spoken.

There sat a rider on a great black horse; and behind him eleven grooms
held eleven horses, of different sizes, the smallest one being the
prettiest, tiniest white pony you ever saw.

"Ho! Miller!" shouted the messenger. "I bring the King's command that
you and your family of Blowers mount and ride with me to the C