her, perhaps Gil would not have lived thereafter so sad a life. The
Stork might have told him the truth. But the wise old Stork would not.
That was to be Gil's punishment,--to remember and regret and to reproach
himself always for the selfishness and jealousy which had cost him a
loving brother.

THE TEN BLOWERS

I

ONCE upon a time there was a fat Miller who lived in the Land of
Windmills. Now that is a queer country, where the people look queer,
talk and live and dress queerly, and where queer things are likely to
happen at any time. So you must not be surprised if this should be a
queer tale of the Miller and his mill and his family; but you must take
my queer word for it that the happenings were all queerly true as I
shall tell them.

The Miller was a thoughtful fellow, as the folk of the Land of Windmills
are apt to be; and he had ideas. When his first son was born he sat down
and thought for a long time. His baby had fine lungs; he cried louder
and longer than any baby of whom the Miller had ever heard, so that the
father had to go out of doors to think.

"He is a very remarkable child!" said the Miller to himself. "His
talents in the way of lung-power are extraordinary; they must be
developed. I believe in deciding as soon as possible what a child shall
be, according to his earliest inclinations. With his fine lungs he must
become a Blower of some kind; a Musician,--perhaps a Corneter or a
Flutist. But that we can decide later. I shall begin to train him
immediately."

So the Miller trained the lungs of his son. His first gift to the baby
was an ivory whistle, and the little fellow soon learned to blow it so
that his mother was nearly deafened. When he grew stronger he had a
penny trumpet, and then there was a racket, to be sure! But the more
noise he made the more were the Miller and his good wife delighted. For
they said to each other: "What wonderful talents has our son! Surely he
will become a great blowing Musician in the days that are to be."

Before he was a year old Hans could blow a little bugle so loudly that
all the dogs of the neighborhood would rush to the house and surround
it, barking. But he made no tunes on the bugle; only noise.

Not long after this came a little brother for Hans; and this baby showed
the same talents as the first one, by day and by night filling the
cottage with his sturdy bellows. You might think that this would have
disturbed the peace of the Miller and his