snow lasts,' the Miller used to say to his wife, 'for when people
are in trouble they should be left alone, and not be bothered by
visitors. That at least is my idea about friendship, and I am sure
I am right. So I shall wait till the spring comes, and then I
shall pay him a visit, and he will be able to give me a large
basket of primroses and that will make him so happy.'

"'You are certainly very thoughtful about others,' answered the
Wife, as she sat in her comfortable armchair by the big pinewood
fire; 'very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a treat to hear you
talk about friendship. I am sure the clergyman himself could not
say such beautiful things as you do, though he does live in a
three-storied house, and wear a gold ring on his little finger.'

"'But could we not ask little Hans up here?' said the Miller's
youngest son. 'If poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half my
porridge, and show him my white rabbits.'

"'What a silly boy you are'! cried the Miller; 'I really don't know
what is the use of sending you to school. You seem not to learn
anything. Why, if little Hans came up here, and saw our warm fire,
and our good supper, and our great cask of red wine, he might get
envious, and envy is a most 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