Miller's Will There was an old miller by everyone known He had three sons was all nigh grown When he came to die and make his will He had nothing to give but an old tub* mill He called up his eldest son He says, "My son, I'm almost done And if the mill to you I'd make Pray tell me how much toll you intend to take?" "Oh dear father, my name is Heck And out of each bushel I'll take one peck And every bushel I do grind A very fine living at that I'll find" "You are a fool," the old man said, "You have not fairly learned my trade The mill to you I will not give For never a miller at that can live" He next called up his second son He says, "My son, I'm almost done And if the mill to you I'd make Pray tell me how much toll you intend to take?" "Oh dear father, my name is Ralph And out of each bushel I'd take one half And every bushel I do grind A very fine living at that I'll find" "You are a fool," the old man said, "You have not fairly learned my trade The mill to you I will not give For never a miller at that can live" He next called up his youngest son He says, "My son, I'm almost done And if the mill to you I'd make Pray tell me how much toll you intend to take?" "Oh dear father, I am your son I'll take three pecks and leave just one And if a good living at that I do lack I'll take the other and swear to the sack" "You are my son," the old man said, "For you have fairly learned my trade The mill is yours," the old man cried, And he closed up his eyes and died DT #348 Laws Q21 note: "tub" mill must be grist mill collected by Sharp from Ida Banks in Burnsville NC in 1918 SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!