"So was I," answered the little man. "Give me the stool. I will heal that patient first, then will see about the others."
The miller presently brought out the injured stool, and while it was being mended he and Puss, Jr., had a talk.
"IF I'D AS MUCH MONEY AS I COULD SPEND"
"Yes," said the miller as Puss seated himself on a sack of flour, "I'm a busy man. It's grind, grind all day long. Red corn and yellow corn and white corn from the cribs of the farmers. From the fields to my mill, and then from here to the baker or the kitchen, and then into cakes for little children. The big wheel goes round and round all day long and the water splashes and gurgles as it turns it. And then I tie up the sacks after they are well filled, and then the wagon comes and takes them away. Every day the same thing, year in and year out."
"It's nice and cool," said Puss, "and the flour smells sweet, and it's home, you know. I'm a little tired with my long journey and wish I could find my dear father."
"Cheer up," said the miller. "You'll find him soon, I'm sure of that."