THE MAGIC MILL. A FAIRY TALE.

1. At Apolda, I have been told, there is a magic mill. In appearance it is very much like a huge coffee mill, but it is turned from beneath instead of from above. Two large beams form the handles, by which two stout serving men keep the mill in motion.

2. And what kind of grain is ground in the mill? I will tell you the story as it was told to me, but I will not vouch for its truth. Old women are thrown in at the top, wrinkled and bent, without hair and without teeth, and when they come out below they are quite young and pretty, with cheeks as rosy as an apple.

3. One turn of the great mill does it all. Crick-crack, it goes, and the whole magical change is made. And when those who have become young again are asked if it is not a painful process, they answer, "Painful? Oh, no! On the other hand, it is quite delightful! It is just like waking in the morning after a good night's rest, to see the sun shining in your room, and to hear the trees rustling and the birds twittering in the branches."

4. A long way from Apolda, as the story runs, there once lived an old woman who had often heard of the magic mill. She had been very happy in her youth, and she wished above all things to be young again. So, at length, she made up her mind to try what the mill would do for her. The journey to Apolda was a long and hard one, for the road led up and down many steep hills and through boggy meadows and over a stony desert where there was no cooling shade.

5. But by and by the woman stood before the mill.

"I want to become young again," she said to one of the serving men, who was quietly sitting on a bench puffing rings of smoke into the still blue air.

6. "And, pray, what is your name?" asked the man. "The children call me Mother Redcap," was the answer. 7. "Sit down, then, on this bench, Mother Redcap;" and the man went into the mill, and, opening a thick book, returned with a long strip of paper.

"Is that the bill?" asked the old woman.

8. "Oh, no!" answered the other. "We charge nothing here; only you must sign your name to this paper." "And why should I do that?" asked the woman. 9. The man smiled, and answered: "This paper is only a list of all the follies you have ever committed. It is complete, even to the present hour. Before you can become young again you must pledge yourself to commit them all over again in the very same order as before. To be sure, there is quite a long list. From the time you were sixteen until you were thirty, there was at least one folly every day, and on Sunday there were two; then you improved a little until you were forty; but after that the follies have been plentiful enough, I assure you!"

10. The old woman sighed, and said: "I know that what you say is all true. And I hardly think it will repay one to become young again at such a price."

"Neither do I think so," answered the man. "Very few, indeed, could it ever repay; and so we have an easy time of it-seven days of rest every week! The mill is always still, at least of late years."

11. "Now, couldn't we strike out just a few things?" pleaded the old woman, with a tap on the man's shoulder.

"Suppose we leave off about a dozen things that I remember with sorrow. I wouldn't mind doing all the rest.” "No, no!" answered the man. "We are not allowed to leave off anything. The rule is, all or none!"

12. "Very well, then, I shall have nothing to do with your old mill," said she, turning away.

When she reached her home again, the good folk who came to look at her exclaimed: "Why, Mother Redcap, you come back older than you went! We never thought there was any truth in the story about that mill!"

She coughed a little dry cough, and answered: "What does it matter about being young again? If one will only try to make it so, old age may be as beautiful as youth!"

1. It is May-nearly the end of May-and the spring wild-flowers have almost finished their blooming for the year. Down at the edge of the pond the tall watergrasses and rushes are tossing their heads a little in the wind, and swinging back and forth, lightly and lazily, with the motion of the water.

2. If we come close to the edge where the rushes are growing, and look down through the clear water, we shall

see some ugly and clumsy black bugs crawling upon the bottom of the pond. They have six legs, and are covered with hard, horny scales, laid plate upon plate, like the armor of some old knight of the Middle Ages. This insect is dull and heavy in appearance and movement; and he might be called very stupid were it not for the manner in which he catches and eats every little fly and mosquito that comes within his reach.

3. I am afraid you will think he is not very interesting, and will not care to make his acquaintance; but, let me tell you, something very wonderful is about to happen to him. If you will stay, and patiently watch him, you will see what I saw once upon a time, and you will never forget it.

4. On this fine May morning the water spiders are dancing and skipping upon the water as if it were a floor of glass; here and there a blue dragon fly is skimming joyfully through the air upon his fine, firm, gauzy wings; but our dull, black, mail-coated bug is lazily crawling in the mud at the bottom of the pond. He sees all these bright insects sporting in the sun above him. For the first time in his life he feels discontented with his place in the mud. A longing comes upon him, quite different from his desire for mosquitoes and flies.

5. "I will creep up the stem of this rush," he says to himself, "and perhaps when I reach the surface of the water I can skip about like the water spiders, or, what is better, dart through the air like the blue-winged dragon fly."

6. But as he crawls slowly and with great toil up the slippery stem he is disheartened by the thought that he has no wings; his legs are heavy and clumsy, not light and nimble like the water spider's. What can he do in a sphere so much above that in which he has always lived?