A WINDMILL stood upon the hill，proud to look at， and it was proud too．

"I am not proud at all，"it said，" but I am very much enlightened without and within．I have sun and moon for my outward use，and for inward use too；and into the bar-gain I have stearine candles，train oil lamps，and tallowcandles；I may well say that I'm enlightened．I am a thinking being，and so well constructed that it's quite de-lightful．I have a good set of millstones in my chest， and I have four wings that are placed outside my head，just be- neath my hat；the birds have only two wings，and are obliged to carry them on their backs． I am a Dutchman by birth，that may be seen by my figure-'a flying Dutch- man'．They are considered supernatural beings，I know， and yet I am quite natural．I have a gallery round my chest，and house-room beneath it；that's where my thoughts dwell． My strongest thought，who rules and reigns，is called by the others"the man in the mill"．He knows what he wants，and is lord over the meal and the bran；but he has his companion too，and she is called "Mother"．She is the very heart of me．She dose not run about stupidly and awkwardly，for she knows what she wants，she knows what she can do，she's as soft as a zephyr and as strong as a storm；she knows how to begin a thing carefully，and to have her own way．She is my soft temper，and the father is my bard one：they are two，and yet one；they each call the other"My half"．These two have some little boys，young thoughts，that can grow．The little ones keep everything stirring．When， lately，in my wisdom，I let the father and the boys exmine the millstonesand the wheels in my chest，to see what was going onthere-for something in me was out of order，and it'swell to examine oneself-the little ones made a tremen-dous noise，which is not a becoming thing when one stands on a hill as I do；there one must remember thatone stands in a strong light-that of public opinion．

Well，as I was saying，the young ones made a terri-ble noise．The youngest jumped up into my hat，and shouted there so that it tickled me．The little thoughtsmay grow；I know that very well；and out in the worldthoughts come too，and not only of my kind，for as far asI can see I cannot discern anything like myself；but thewingless houses，whose throats make no noise，have thoughts too，and these come to my thoughts，and makelove to them，as it is called．It's wonderful enough-yes，there are many wonderful things．

Something has come over me，or into me，-some- thing has changed in the mill-work：it seems as if theone-half，the father，had altered，and had received abetter tempr and a more affectionate helpmate-so young and good，and yet the same，only more gentle andgood through the coruse of time．What was bitter haspassed away，and the whole is much more comfortable．