But these small
matters irritated the Miller.
"I may be the slave of all the old women in the country-side," said
he; "but I won't--they shall see that I won't."
So he put up a notice to say that he would only receive grist at a
certain hour on certain days. Now, but a third of the old women could
read the notice, and they did not attend to it. People came as before;
but the Miller locked the door of the mill and sat in the
counting-house and chuckled.
"My good friend," said his neighbours, "you can't do business in this
way. If a man lives by trade, he must serve his customers. And a
Miller must take in grist when it comes to the mill."
"Others may if they please," said the Miller; "but I won't. When I
make a rule, I stick to it."
"Take advice, man, or you'll be ruined," said his friends.
"I won't," said the Miller.
In a few weeks all the country-folk turned their donkeys' heads
towards the windmill on the heath. It was a little farther to go, but
the Windmiller took custom when it came to him, gave honest measure,
and added civil words gratis.
The other Miller was ruined.
"All you can do now is to leave the mill while you can pay the rent,
and try another trade," said his friends.
"I won't," said the Miller. "Shall I be turned out of the house where
I was born, because the country-folk are fools?"
However, he could not pay the rent, and the landlord found another
tenant.
"You must quit," said he to the Miller.
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