The cleverness of the miller's man in discovering poor Abel's
retreats probably arose from the fact that he had so rooted a
dislike for the routine work of his daily duties that he would
rather employ himself about the mill in any way than by attending to
the mill-business, and that his idleness and stupidity over work
were only equalled by his industry and shrewdness in mischief.

Poor Abel had a dread of the great, gawky, mischievous-looking man,
which probably prevented his complaining to his mother of many a sly
pinch and buffet which he endured from him. And George took some
pains to keep up this wholesome awe of himself, by vague and
terrifying speeches, and by a trick of what he called "dropping on"
poor Abel in the dusk, with hideous grimaces and uncouth sounds.

He once came thus upon Abel in an upper floor, and the boy fled from
him so hastily that he caught his foot in the ladder and fell
headlong. Though it must have been quite uncertain for some moments
whether Abel had not broken his neck, the miller's man displayed no
anxiety. He only clapped his hands upon his knees, in a sort of
uncouth ecstasy of spite, saying, "Down a comes vlump, like a twoad
from roost. Haw, haw, haw!"

Happily, Abel fell with little more damage to himself than the mill-
cats experienced in many such a tumble, as they fled before the
tormenting George.

But, after all this, it was with no small surprise that Abel found
himself the object of attentions from the miller's man, which bore
the look of friendliness.