"Father," says he, "my name is Dick, And aout of each bushel I'll take one peck-- Of every bushel--that--I--grind, I'll take one peck to ease my mind." "Thou foolish son," the old man said, "Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade! The mill to you I'll never give, For by such toll no man can thrive." He called to him his second son, Saying, "My life is almost done, And if I to you the mill shall make, Pray, say what toll you mean to take?" "Father," says he, "my name is Ralph, And aout of each bushel I'll take one half-- Of every bushel that I grind, I'll take one half to ease my mind." "Thou foolish son," the old man said, "Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade; The mill to you I'll never give, For by such toll no man can thrive." He called to him his youngest son, Saying, "My life is almost done; And if I to you the mill shall make, Pray, say what toll you mean to take?" "Father," says he, "I _am_ your boy, And in taking of toll shall be all my joy; That an honest living I ne'er may lack, I'll take the whole, and steal the sack." "Thou _art_ my son," the old man said; "Thou'st larnt thy good--old--fayther's trade; The mill to you I do--betide"-- And--so--he--closed--his eyes--and--died. Another version finds its way to us from the West, and ends with an uncomplimentary opinion as to the habitation of the miller in the other world. FOOTNOTES: [80] Donne-moi ton bras que je te guérisse, Car tu m'as l'air malade, Loula, Car tu m'as l'air malade! [81] The Canadian words are, "J'entends le moulin, tique, tique, tique." Probably the old English dance ended, "How merrily the mill goes, clack, clack, clack!" after which, as now in Canada, partners were changed, and the odd player in the centre had an opportunity to secure a place, or to find a mate. [82] The pauses lengthen as the patient grows weaker. V. _FLOWER ORACLES, ETC._ A spire of grass hath made me gay; It saith, I shall find mercy mild. I measured in the selfsame way I have seen practised by a child. Come look and listen if she really does: She does, does not, she does, does not, she does. Each time I try, the end so augureth. That comforts me--'tis right that we have faith. _Walther von der Vogelweide_ [A.D. 1170-1230]. No. 42. _Flower Oracles._ Plucking one by one the petals of the ox-eye daisy (_Leucanthemum vulgare_), children ask: Rich man, poor man, beggar-man, thief, Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief.[83] Girls then take a second flower, and, getting some one else to name it, proceed, in order to determine where they are to live: Big house, little house, pigsty, barn. And in like manner use a third to discover in what dress they are to be married: Silk, satin, calico, rags.