In Story-land

  _THE DISCONTENTED MILL WINDOW._

  A tall flour mill once stood in the midst of a busy noisy town. Itssteep, slanting roof was far above any other roof in the place, and itsmany windows looked out over the chimney tops, and into the back yardsand saw all that was going on in them.

  Under the very eaves of this slanting roof was a little round window.Because it was so high above the other windows, from it you could haveseen not only all that was being done in the busy city, but the broad,green fields outside of the town, and, on a clear day, you could evenhave caught a glimpse of the vast ocean which lay shining somysteriously beyond the end of land. It was because this glimpse of thegreat ocean could be seen through the little round window that themill-owner brought many visitors up to the top story to see thebeautiful vision. Oftentimes the guests reached the window, panting, andout of breath from having to climb so many steps, but they alwaysexclaimed, "How glad I am that I came! How beautiful it is! How_beautiful_ it is!"

  Every noon some of the tired, dusty workmen would come and look out ofthe little round window, sometimes almost forgetting to eat the breadand meat they held in their hands. Oftentimes the window would hear themsay, "It rests one's tired bones to know that the great ocean is not sofar away after all." There was one pale, sad-faced man who used to comeevery day and lean his elbows on the window sill and gaze, and gaze asif he were never tired of looking out on the view which the little roundwindow presented.

  When the mill whistle sounded its shrill, sharp note, telling the menthat the noonday rest was over and that they must be back at their work,the pale, sad-faced man would sigh, and as he turned away, would saysoftly to himself, "I don't believe I could stand the grind of this milllife if I didn't get a breath of ocean air from this window each day!"

  Once in a while, a good father would bring his children up to the windowand, lifting them in his strong arms, would let them see the greenfields and shining ocean. Then the children would clap their hands andshout aloud for joy. Occasionally one would beg that he might beallowed to go away from the noisy, dusty town, through the broad, greenfields to the endless ocean beyond.

  At night when all the town was hushed in sleep, and even the greenfields looked cold and dark, and deep shadows seemed to be on everyobject, the vision of the great ocean was, if possible, more beautifulthan during the bright day. At such hours the little, round window hadthe gleam of the never sleeping waters all to itself, as very few peoplehave courage to climb much in the night, and none of them knew howbeautiful the mighty ocean looked in the midst of darkness. So they lostthe gleam of the heavenly stars as they were reflected in its wavelets.Sometimes the broad silver path which the moon spread upon the surfaceof the water looked as if it might be the shining stairway to theheavenly gates themselves, and the little round window felt quite surethat it saw bright angels ascending and descending this silvery stairwayjust as they had done in the dream of Jacob of old. At such times thelittle window would tremble all over with delight.

  But alas! alas! now comes the sad part of my story. Time passed on, andso many people came to look through the little, round window thatscarcely a day went by in which the window did not hear exclamations ofpleasure and admiration escape from their lips. Soon the foolish littlewindow began to think that the people were talking of it, and not of thevision of the great ocean which could be seen through its round windowpane. Thus it grew proud and vain, and thought _it_ somehow, must besuperior to ordinary glass windows, and therefore it ought not to betreated like them. So when the wet rain clouds came one day, as usual,to wash the dust off the faces of all the windows in the town, thelittle round window in the top of the tall mill refused to be washed."Tut, tut, tut!" said the rain, "what nonsense! A window is good fornothing unless it is washed about once in so often."

  However, the vain, little window would not listen, but held on to thegrimy soot and yellow dust which had accumulated upon its surface. Eventhe rattle of the fierce thunder did not frighten it, and when the windsighed and sobbed and moaned as if to beg the little window to besensible and take the washing which the rain was trying to give it, theobstinate window merely shook in its frame and answered, "I tell you Iam not like other windows. Every body admires me. Why should I have tomind that cold, wet rain, just because other windows do. I am not goingto give up my soot and my dust. _I am going to do just as I please._ AmI not above all the other windows? It is well enough for them to beslapped in the face by the rain and even sometimes washed and scrubbedfrom within, but none of that for _me_."

  And thus the vain, foolish little window lost its chance to be made pureand clean again.

  Gradually the dust from the street, and the smoke from the neighboringchimneys settled thicker and thicker upon it, and of course the view ofthe busy, noisy town, of the quiet green fields and of the great,shining ocean, became dimmer and dimmer until at last they were lostsight of altogether and nothing could be seen but the round form of thewindow, so thick was the grime and dirt upon it.

  Now the men ceased coming to the top story at their noon time, and theowner of the mill brought no more guests to its side, and the littleround window, left to itself, became sad and lonely. Day after daypassed and no one came near it. In fact, people seemed to have forgottenthat it was in existence. One day two boys climbed to the attic inwhich it had been built, and the little round window said eagerly toitself, "Now I shall hear some of the praise that belongs to me." But ina very few moments one of the boys said "Whew! how close and dark it isup here! Let's go down!" "All right," replied the other, and down theyscampered without even so much as noticing the dust-covered window.

  At first the window was indignant at what it termed their lack ofappreciation. However, as day and night succeeded each other and daysgrew into weeks, and weeks stretched into a month, the little roundwindow had plenty of time to think, and by and by came the thought, "Whydid people ever crowd around me, and climb many stairs to get near me?"Then it recalled the words which it had heard, and with the recallingcame the realization that the talk had all been about the beautiful viewwhich it presented, and not about itself.

  Then, indeed, it would have hung its head in shame if it could have doneso, but although a window has a face, it has no head, you know, so thatall it could do was to turn itself on its wooden pivots until its roundface was ready to catch any drop of rain that might fall. Nor did ithave long to wait. The beautiful white clouds which had been driftingdreamily across the blue sky, changed into soft gray, and then theirunder parts became a heavy, dark gray, and soon they began massingthemselves together. The wind arose and hurried the smaller cloudsacross the sky as a general might marshal his troops for a battle, andin a little while the whole heavens were covered with gray, not even asingle spot of blue sky remained, nor could one yellow sunbeam be seenon the whole landscape. The low rumble of thunder could now be heard,and quick flashes of lightning darted from raincloud to raincloud andback again as if they were messengers sent to see if all was inreadiness for the storm. Soon down poured the rain.

  Not even the thirsty earth itself was more glad to receive the tens ofthousands of water-drops than was the little round window in the topstory of the tall mill. It not only had its outside face freed from thedust and soot, but with some help from the wind, it managed to turn itsinside face out and thus be cleansed within as well as without.

  At last the storm passed away; the sun shone again; the trees rustledtheir fresh, shining, green leaves, and all nature rejoiced in therenewed life which the reviving rain had brought with it. The littleround window fairly glistened as its shining face caught the goldenradiance of the last beams of the setting sun. "Ah, look at the roundmill window!" said the miller's wife, "the rain has washed it bright andclean. See how it reflects the sunset. To-morrow we will go up and get aview of the ocean from it--I had almost forgotten it."