PUSS MEETS A MODEST MENDING MAN AND A JOLLY MILLER
Reading edition
If I'd as much money as I could spend I never would cry old chairs to mend; Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend, I never would cry old chairs to mend. "If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry old clothes to sell; Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell, I never would cry old clothes to sell."
"Well, what would you do?" asked Puss, Jr., coming up to the funny little man who was singing this song as he journeyed along over the roadway down the hill, across the bridge to the creaking mill.
"I'd buy a little house and a little cow and a little pig, and I'd live all the days of my life as happy as could be," replied the funny little man.
"That wouldn't take such an awful lot of money," replied Puss. "You said in your song if you had 'as much money as you could spend.' I should think that would mean a big castle and a big automobile and a big yacht, and, and—"
"I couldn't spend more than a little, for I've never had much practice in spending," answered the funny little man.
Before Puss could make reply they crossed the bridge and found themselves opposite the old mill. In the doorway stood the miller all covered with flour. His hat was dusty, too; even his hair and eyelashes were white with the dusty flour.
"Any old chairs to mend?" asked the funny little man.
"I have a stool here that has lost a leg," replied the miller, "and an old clock that has lost a hand, and my wife has a pitcher that has lost a mouth and a needle that has no eye. Can you mend them all?"
"You'd better call in the doctor," said the funny little man; "he's the person you want."
"Ha, ha!" roared the miller, "I was only joking."
"So was I," answered the little man. "Give me the stool. I will heal that patient first, then will see about the others."
The miller presently brought out the injured stool, and while it was being mended he and Puss, Jr., had a talk.
"IF I'D AS MUCH MONEY AS I COULD SPEND"
"Yes," said the miller as Puss seated himself on a sack of flour, "I'm a busy man. It's grind, grind all day long. Red corn and yellow corn and white corn from the cribs of the farmers. From the fields to my mill, and then from here to the baker or the kitchen, and then into cakes for little children. The big wheel goes round and round all day long and the water splashes and gurgles as it turns it. And then I tie up the sacks after they are well filled, and then the wagon comes and takes them away. Every day the same thing, year in and year out."
"It's nice and cool," said Puss, "and the flour smells sweet, and it's home, you know. I'm a little tired with my long journey and wish I could find my dear father."
"Cheer up," said the miller. "You'll find him soon, I'm sure of that."