The story goes that at one time it was rumoured that a second was about to be constructed. The miller was concerned. He went to see the man who entertained the scheme. "I say, mate, be you goin' to set up another windmill?" "I reckon I be; you don't object? There's room for more nor one." "Oh, room, room enough! But there mayn't be wind enough to sarve us both." An old chap named Peter Odger lived near Mullion. He was somewhat given to the bottle. One day he went with a cart and horse along the road, and took a keg of cider with him. The day was hot, the cider got into his head, and he fell asleep. Some boys found the horse standing in the road feeding. They took the brute out and drove it away. An hour later Peter awoke, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. "Well, if iver!" said he. "Be I Peter Odger or be I not? 'Tes contrary any way. If I be Peter Odger, I've lost an 'orse; if I bain't, why I've gained a cart." Peter and his wife did not get on very "suant" together. At last Peter could endure domestic broils no longer; so one day he took every penny he had, and started for the United States. He shipped from Liverpool. As the vessel neared the Newfoundland coast it got into the cold current setting down from the north, and an iceberg hove in sight. This was too much for Peter. "I likes warmth," said he, "and the only warmth I don't like is when my wife gives it me. I reckon I'll go home." So he covenanted to work his passage back, and by some means or other he did not surrender his ticket for the passage across. Without landing in America, Peter returned in the vessel in which he had gone out, and with his ticket in his pocket. He walked quietly into his cottage, and put the ticket up on the mantel-shelf. "Thear, old woman," said he, "I've been and got your ticket for the other world. It cost a sight o' money, but I don't grudge it." Mrs. Odger in the meanwhile had been hard put to it, with no money in the house, and had led a hand-to-mouth existence, mainly on charity. She did not like it. She was glad to see Peter back. "You've been a long time away," she said. "Ees, I reckon. I just tripped over to see that all were ready for you in the other world. They'm expectin' of you, and here's your ticket." It is said that Mrs. Odger was amiable after that. The ticket was ever held in terror over her head. At Mullion, once a quiet, lost corner of the world, are now three monster hotels with electric light; their windows look out seaward across the great bay towards Penzance and the granitic headlands of Penwith. From the Lizard the only prominent hill visible is Tregonning, which was held by the Irish colony in the beginning of the sixth century against the Cornish King Tewdrig, and is still crowned with their stone camp.