Stories Told by the Miller by Violet Jacob

"This time it will have to be a tale I remember hearing grandmother tell," said the miller one evening, "for I've left my book in the town. The cover was so battered that it had to be mended."

They were sitting on the steps of the mill. Every week now, and sometimes twice between Sunday and Sunday, they spent a delightful time with their friend. Little Peter thought he was the finest man in the world; and Janet, though she said little, was quite sure there was no one like him. And, indeed, they were not far wrong, for he was the most splendid miller that anybody ever saw; he was like a big boy at heart, though he was a grown-up man with a mill of his own and a horse and cart in the stable.