Use is second nature, and all the sounds which haunt a windmill were
soon as familiar and as pleasant to the little Jan as if he had been
born a windmiller's son. Through many a windy night he slept as
soundly as a sailor in a breeze which might disturb the nerves of a
land-lubber. And when the north wind blew keen and steadily, and
the chains jangled as the sacks of grist went upwards, and the
millstones ground their monotonous music above his head, these
sounds were only as a lullaby to his slumbers, and disturbed him no
more than they troubled his foster-mother, to whom the revolving
stones ground out a homely and welcome measure: "Dai-ly bread, dai-
ly bread, dai-ly bread."

For another sign of his being a true child of the mill, his nurse
Abel anxiously watched.

Though Abel preferred nursing to pig-minding, he had a higher
ambition yet, which was to begin his career as a windmiller. It was
not likely that he could be of use to his father for a year or two,
and the fact that he was of very great use to his mother naturally
tended to delay his promotion to the mill.

Mrs. Lake was never allowed to say no to her husband, and she seemed
to be unable, and was certainly unwilling, to say it to her
children. Happily, her eldest child was of so sweet and docile a
temper that spoiling did him little harm; but even with him her
inability to say no got the mother into difficulties. She was
obliged to invent excuses to "fub off," when she could neither
consent nor refuse.

So, when Abel used to cling about her, crying, "Mother dear, when'll