The Flower Princess

by Abbie Farwell Brown

They had neat little uniforms of blue and white, like figures on a tile,—blue trousers and white millers' smocks, and wooden shoes. And they were trained to stand in an orderly row, with big Hans at the head and chubby baby Tod at the foot, all puff-cheeked, ruddy, and broad-chested from much blowing. And they blew all together,—one—two! one—two! one—two!—with a sound like a great wind in the chimney on a January night, while the windmill whirled around like a mad thing and seemed ready to blow to pieces. But the on-lookers had to be careful to put a rock in their pockets, or to hold on to something steady, lest they be blown from their feet by the blast which the children blew.

Stories of the Miller's wonderful family spread far and wide, and many folk came to see the little Blowers at their work. They were often asked to show their skill in various ways. Hans might easily have earned his living as a blacksmith's bellows, could his father have spared him from the mill. The village children often coaxed the younger Blowers to blow their kites up into the sky or their sailboats down the canals. Even the baby earned many a penny by blowing the soot out of the cottage chimneys and the dust from corners in the goodwives' spandy floors. But the Miller himself did not encourage all this. "Best stick to your home mill, my sons," he said, "and good will come of it. Do not waste your breath in blowing small things, and one day your breath shall blow us into fortune." And this seemed likely to be true; for every day they were becoming more famous and more rich. And all the other millers in the land were so jealous that they could not sleep o' nights.

II

There came a time when the Miller was kept busy indeed, and proudly so. For he had been commanded by the King himself to grind one thousand sacks of flour for the wedding-cookery of the young Prince, his son. The Prince was to cross the sea to be married to the daughter of the proud King of Outland; and when he had brought his fair bride home there was to be great rejoicing,—feasting and merrymaking at the capital of the Land of Windmills. And the Miller's flour was to make the huge wedding-cake and a little cake for each of the guests. For his share in all this preparation the Miller was to receive a great price,—a bag of gold. So he hurried about, and the children blew, and the windmill whirled, and dusty flour went pouring into the King's sacks, until all was done. Then the Miller sat proudly at the head of his table, surrounded by his proud family, and with the sack of gold in the middle of the board for them to admire.

They were eating their goodly supper and drinking the health of the Prince and his bride, for the morrow was to be the wedding-day. Every one was talking and laughing under his breath—for they dared not laugh aloud nowadays, for fear of blowing out all the lights. Suddenly there came the galloping of horses' hoofs along the highway and a thundering knock at the door.

"Open!" cried a voice. "A messenger of the King!"

The fat Miller ran to the door and undid the bolts as fast as he could, while his children crowded around to hear the King's message. But they held their breaths, lest the message be blown away as soon as spoken.

There sat a rider on a great black horse; and behind him eleven grooms held eleven horses, of different sizes, the smallest one being the prettiest, tiniest white pony you ever saw.

"Ho! Miller!" shouted the messenger. "I bring the King's command that you and your family of Blowers mount and ride with me to the Capital, for the King has need of you. I bring steeds for all; lose no time in obeying the King's message."

The Miller and his sons were startled and amazed; they could not guess whether for joy or for sorrow they were thus called to court. But of course there was nothing for them but to obey the King. Quickly they mounted the eleven steeds which the eleven grooms had brought. The fat Miller went first, on a fat little brown horse which looked like him; and behind him came long, lanky Hans on a long-limbed bay. After him followed Piet on a gallant chestnut, behind whom galloped all the other brothers, with Tod the baby on the tiny white pony bringing up the rear. But the Miller's poor wife was left behind, not knowing whether to be sorry or glad because of the King's summons to her family.