“Come along,” cried Tom; and the drawers were carried up, each being crammed full of papers and books, and laid on the floor close to the old mill-post.
“Worser and worser,” said David, looking round. “Dear, dear! the times I’ve been up here when the sacks was standing all about, some flour and some wheat, and the stones spinning round, the hopper going tippenny tap—tippenny tap, and the meal-dust so thick you could hardly breathe. I ’member coming out one night, and going home, and my missus says to me, ‘Why, Davy, old man, what yer been a-doing on? Yer head’s all powdered up like Squire Winkum’s footman.’ It was only meal, yer know.”
“And now you can come and go without getting white, David,” said Tom, moving a stool from under the newly put up shelves. “This is where the bureau is to go.”
“Is it now?” said David, scratching his head. “Why that’s where the old bin used to be. Ay, I’ve set on that bin many’s the time on a windy night, when miller wanted to get a lot o’ grist done.”
“Back again,” said Tom; and two more drawers were carried over. Then the framework and desk were fetched, with Mrs Fidler standing ready, dustpan and brush in hand, to remove any dirt and fluff that might be underneath.
“Tidy heavy now, Master Tom,” said David, as they bore the old walnut-wood piece of furniture across the garden and up to the mill, only setting it down once just inside the yard by way of a rest, and to close the gate.
Then the piece of furniture was carried in, and after some little scheming, hoisted up the steep ladder flight of steps, David getting under it and forcing it up with his head.
“Wonderful heavy bit o’ wood, Master Tom,” said the gardener.
“It’s an awkward place to get it up, David,” replied the boy. “Now then, just under those shelves. It will stand capitally there, and get plenty of light for writing.”
But the bureau did not stand capitally there, for the back feet were higher than the front, consequent upon the floor having sunk from the weight of millstones in the middle.