But, pondering what the bright fairy had said to him, he resolved to act. That very day, with his head swelling with a new idea, he called together blacksmiths, masons, bricklayers, carpenters, and machinists. He paid them high wages, and urged on the building of a windmill on the [[164]]land; yes, like a house, and a windmill that was to serve many purposes.
“He’s a fool, that fellow Molenaar, he is! The idea of making a dwelling and mill in one, and building it on land!” said one man who thought he knew all about windmills.
“Have the fairies cast a spell, on him?” asked another.
“The Wappers have certainly turned his brain,” said a third.
“He’s riding a Kludde horse, that’s what he’s doing,” jeered a fourth.
Then, all together, they tapped their foreheads with their forefingers, and uttered what became a proverb:
“He has a mill in his head.”
But Molenaar persevered. In less than a month, he had a comfortable brick house, three stories high, with a space like a cylinder, running down through the centre, and with stairways up to the floors above. On the first, or ground floor, was his flour mill, with grinding stones and bins. On the second, were four rooms for his family. On the third, were his parlor and linen closet; besides a playroom for the children. On the top were the wheels, axles, and sails; with a wide veranda, all the way around, by which the sails could be trimmed, reefed, or furled.
It was as good as a ship, and the children could take a walk all the way around the millhouse. [[165]]
For three days, the breezes blew steadily from the west. For eight hours a day, the stones revolved merrily, and the bins were filled with meal.