Grind, quickly grind, little Mill,
Grind--with a right good will!

"When you wish the Mill to stop grinding, you must say,

Halt, halt, little Mill!

The Mill will obey you."

Taking the little Mill under his arm, the Poor Brother climbed up and
up, until he came to the entrance in the side of the hill. Then he
trudged home again through the snow.

When he arrived in front of the hut, he put the little Mill down on the
snow, and said at once,

"Grind, quickly grind, little Mill,
Grind a HOUSE--with a right good will!"

The little Mill ground and ground, until there stood, in place of the
hut, the finest house in the world. It had fine large windows and broad
stairways, and the house was furnished from garret to cellar.

By spring, the Mill had ground out the last article that was needed for
the house, and the Poor Brother cried,

"Halt, halt, little Mill!"

The Mill obeyed him.