And on the following day, the farmer took her to his own home, in the valley of Berryessa, and they lived happily together for the space of many years. DAVID GOYLE, THE MILLER MAN. “’Tis a strange cap: ’Twill give and take, and fit many heads.”—_Old Volume._ Oh, will you hear with patient ear, The story I’ll relate About man’s infidelity, And learn his losses great? There lived a little miller once, Who owned a tiny mill; While there was water in his pond The stones were never still. For not a man the country round, From Inyo to the Bay, Was closer to his business found, Than David Goyle, they say. Let people pass at eve, or noon, Or at the break of day, They’d see the dusty miller there And hear the hoppers play; But when the narrow stream run dry, The miller was at fault; The rack-a-tacket mill reposed As silent as a vault. The little vicious artisan Had spun his silken snare Across the dusty flour-chute, And silent gearing there; While in the elevator’s cup Was heard the mouse’s squeak, And village children in the flume Dry-shod, played hide-and-seek. Said David to his wife one day, “I think, while water’s low, I’ll take a business trip to town, Just for a week or so; I have not ground a peck of grain, ’Tis now eight days or more; But sat and picked, and picked the stones, And dressed their surface o’er.” Then turned his little loving wife— With much concern, said she, “I hope while you are stopping there, That you will careful be; And shun those dark and narrow streets Where rogues do congregate, And look from out their low retreats As spiders watch and wait. “Have not the city papers teemed With incidents, wherein Some people proved not what they seemed, And took the stranger in? Then trust not smiles, or cunning wiles; Be careful where you tread; The very ground beneath your feet With pitfalls may be spread; There’s not a trick, a trap, or plot, Or scheme of any sort— From playing fine to drugging wine— To which they’ll not resort.” Then leaned this little miller man Away back in his chair, And laughed until his anxious wife Thought he would strangle there. Said he, “You much amuse me, wife; Have you forgot, my dear, That I have traveled in my life, And came from Jersey here? “Or can you for a moment think Your husband’s mind is crude? Or deem that I the cup would drink, By Temperance men tabooed? Those who can get the start of me, In country or in town, By Jove, must early risers be, And you can put that down.” For he was vain, this miller man, Who thought his mind so vast; But look with me, and we will see How he comes out at last.