mill, the
family made such a din. And this blew trade away, even on windy days.
The Miller was growing poorer and poorer, and it seemed unlikely that
his children would ever help him to earn their bread, for they had been
brought up to blow, and that was all they knew how to do.

One morning the Miller went out to grind some grain which Farmer Huss
had left the night before. Huss, who was stone deaf, was the only
neighbor who cared nowadays to come to the noisy mill, and naturally the
Miller was anxious to please him. But when he looked up at the cloudless
sky he saw that there would be no grinding done that morning. There was
no breeze anywhere, and the mill was sound asleep. The windmill was
lazy, like all its race, and unless an urging wind was blowing it would
not work at all. On breezeless days the mill slept from morning until
night, and then the farmers who had brought their grain grumbled and
were angry with the poor Miller; which, of course, was very
unreasonable. Farmer Huss had vowed that if his grain was not ground
before noon he would never come near the Miller again; and that would be
bad indeed, for, deaf though he was, he remained the Miller's best
customer. Worst of all, there was not a crust in the house, not a penny
to buy bread. And although the children were now so busy blowing that
they had forgotten to be hungry, before night they would be crying for
food. What was to be done?

Hollow-eyed with hunger and anxiety, the Miller sat down and stared at
the motionless mill. Something must be done! Unless the children could
help him earn a penny he must sell their flutes, trombones, trumpets,
bugles, fifes, horns, oboes, cornets, bassoons, and piccolos; but what
then would become of their wonderful talents for blowing?

"Must all their practice be wasted?" thought the Miller. "They have
blown, they have blown until their breath is as strong as the wind. Ha!
I have an idea!" And jumping up he ran as fast as his legs would carry
him to gather his little flock. "It is an ill babe that blows no good!"
said the Miller to himself.

The Miller found his boys in the mill yard blowing on their ten
instruments. Hans the eldest, who was head and shoulders taller than his
father, had the huge bassoon, and the baby, who was just able to toddle,
grasped a piccolo. All the other brothers big and little, tall and
short, were tootling upon their various instruments with their cheeks
bulging out like balloons; and th