The Poor Brother laughed when he found out what had happened. They rowed
back to the kitchen in a boat, and the Poor Brother whispered the magic
words. The Mill stopped grinding.

In the course of time, the porridge soaked into the ground, but after
that nothing would grow there excepting oats, and afterwards the brooks
and ponds were always filled with herrings.

The Rich Brother no longer wished to keep the Mill. The Poor Brother
carried it home once more and placed it behind the door.

Years afterwards, a rich merchant sailed from a distant land and
anchored his ship in the harbor. He visited the home of the Poor Brother
and asked about the Mill, for he had heard how wonderful it was.

"Will it grind salt?" the merchant asked.

"Yes, indeed!" said the Poor Brother. "It will grind anything in the
whole world excepting snow and ham."

"Let me borrow the Mill for a short time, and great will be your
reward," said the merchant.

He thought it would be much easier to fill his ship with salt from the
Mill, than to make a long voyage across the ocean to procure his cargo.

The Poor Brother consented gladly. The merchant went away with the Mill.
He did not wait to find out how to stop the grinding.