house, and had to work very
hard because he was poor. One day as he sat sewing away, some one
knocked at the door.

"'Come in,' said Hans, and an old, old man came in. He was wrapped up
in a cloak, and looked very cold and tired.

"'Please may I warm myself by your fire?' he said.

"'Why of course you may,'--said good little Hans. 'A warm at the fire
costs nothing, and you are welcome.'

"So the old man sat down and warmed himself.

"'Have you come a long way to-day?' Hans said.

"'Yes,' said the old man,--'a long, long way. And I'm ever so cold and
hungry.'

"'Poor old fellow,' thought Hans. 'I wish I had something for him to
eat; but I haven't, because there is nothing for my own dinner except
a piece of bread and a cup of milk.' But then he thought, 'I can do
with a little less for once. I'll give the old man half of that.' So
he broke the bread in two, and poured half the milk into another cup,
and gave them to the old man, who thanked him, and ate it up. But he
still looked so hungry, that Hans thought, 'Poor fellow, he is a great
deal older than I. I can go without a dinner for once, and I'll give
him the rest.' Wasn't that good of Hans?"

"Yes, very good," replied the children, beginning to get interested.

"When the old man had eaten up all the bread and milk, he looked much
better. And he got up to go, and said, 'You have been very good, and
given me all your own dinner. I wish I had something to give you in
return, but I have only got this,' and he took from under his cloak a
shabby, old coffee-mill--the shabbiest old thing you ever saw, all cut
up with jack-knives, you know, and scratched with pins, with ink-spots
on it,"--Eyebright, drawing on her imagination for shabby particulars,
was thinking, you see, of her desk at school, which certainly _was_
shabby.

"Hans could hardly keep from laughing; but the old man said severely,
'Don't smile. This mill is better than it looks. It is a _magic mill_.
Whenever you want any thing, you have only to give the handle one
turn, and say, "Little mill, grind so and so, open sesame," and, no
matter what it is, the mill will begin of itself and grind it for you.
Then when you have enough, you must say, "Little mill, stop grinding,
Abracadabra," and it will stop. Good-by,' and before Hans could say a
word, the old man hurried out of the door and was gone, leaving the
queer old mill behind him.

"Of course Hans thought he must be crazy."

"I should have thoug