Jan of the Windmill: A Story of the Plains — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Jan of the Windmill: A Story of the Plains
John Stuart Mill · en
“Those be the mill-stones, ma’am. Pretty fastish they grinds, and they
goes faster when the wind’s gusty. Many a good cat they’ve ground as
flat as a pancake from the poor gawney beasts getting into the hopper.”
“Oh, sir!” cried the nurse, now thoroughly alarmed, “give me the young
lady back again. Deary, deary me! I’d no notion it was so dangerous.
Oh, don’t, sir! don’t!”
“Tut, tut! I’ll hold un safe, ma’am,” said the windmiller, who had all a
man’s dislike for shirking at the last moment what had once been decided
upon; and, as the nurse afterwards expressed it, before she had time to
scream, he had tucked Miss Amabel Adeline Ammaby’s finery well round her,
and had dipped her into the hopper and out again.
In that moment of suspense both the women had been silent, and the little
Jan had gazed steadily at the operation. As it safely ended, they both
broke simultaneously into words.
“You might have knocked me down with a feather, mum!” gasped Mrs. Lake.
“I couldn’t look, mum. I couldn’t have looked to save my life. I turned
my back.”
“I’d back ’ee allus to do the silliest thing as could be done, missus,”
said the miller, who had a pleasant husbandly way of commenting upon his
wife’s conversation to her disparagement, when she talked before him.
“As for me, ma’am,” the nurse said, “I couldn’t take my eyes off the dear
child’s hood. But move,—no thank you, ma’am,—I couldn’t have moved hand
or foot for a five-pound note, paid upon the spot.”
The baby got well. Whether the mill charm worked the cure, or whether
the fine fresh breezes of that healthy district made a change for the
better in the child’s state, could not be proved.
Nor were these the only possible causes of the recovery.
The kind-hearted butler blessed the day when he laid out three and
eightpence in a box of the bone-setter’s ointment, to such good purpose.
Lady Louisa’s mamma triumphantly hoped that it would be a lesson to her
dear daughter never again to set a London doctor’s advice (however
expensive) above a mother’s (she meant a grandmother’s) experience.
The cook said, “Goose-grease and kitchen physic for her!”
And of course the doctor very properly, as well as modestly, observed
that “he had confidently anticipated permanent beneficial results from a
persevering use of the embrocation.”
And only to the nurse and the windmiller’s family was it known that Miss
Amabel Adeline Ammaby had been dipped in the mill-hopper.
CHAPTER IX.
GENTRY BORN.—LEARNING LOST.—JAN’S BEDFELLOW.—AMABEL.