st terrible thing, and would spoil anybody's nature. I certainly
will not allow Hans' nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and I
will always watch over him, and see that he is not led into any
temptations. Besides, if Hans came here, he might ask me to let him have
some flour on credit, and that I could not do. Flour is one thing and
friendship is another, and they should not be confused. Why, the words
are spelt differently, and mean quite different things. Everybody can
see that.'

"'How well you talk!' said the Miller's Wife, pouring herself out a
large glass of warm ale; 'really I feel quite drowsy. It is just like
being in church.'

"'Lots of people act well,' answered the Miller; 'but very few people
talk well, which shows that talking is much the more difficult thing of
the two, and much the finer thing also'; and he looked sternly across
the table at his little son, who felt so ashamed of himself that he hung
his head down, and grew quite scarlet, and began to cry into his tea.
However, he was so young that you must excuse him."

"Is that the end of the story?" asked the Water-rat.

"Certainly not," answered the Linnet, "that is the beginning."

"Then you are quite behind the age," said the Water-rat. "Every good
story-teller nowadays starts with the end, and then goes on to the
beginning, and concludes with the middle. That is the new method.
I heard all about it the other day from a critic who was walking round
the pond with a young man. He spoke of the matter at great length, and I
am sure he must have been right, for he had blue spectacles and a bald
head, and whenever the young man made any remark, he always answered
'Pooh!' But pray go on with your story. I like the Miller immensely.
I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself, so there is a great
sympathy between us."

"Well," said the Linnet, hopping now on one leg and now on the other,
"as soon as the winter was over, and the primroses began to open their
pale yellow stars, the Miller said to his wife that he would go down and
see little Hans.

"'Why, what a good heart you have!' cried his Wife; 'you are always
thinking of others. And mind you take the big basket with you for the
flowers.'

"So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill together with a strong
iron chain, and went down the hill with the basket on his arm.

"'Good morning, little Hans,' said the Miller.

"'Good morning,' said Hans, leaning on his spade, and smiling f