She grew to be a sweet and pretty child, and was the miller's constant
companion. She called him "papa," and he called her Nathalie, because
he had found her upon the water, and the country people called her the
Maid of the Mill.
The miller worked harder than ever before, for now he had to feed and
clothe the little girl; and he sang from morn till night, so joyous
was he, and still his song was:
"I care for nobody, no! not I,
Since nobody cares for me."
One day, while he was singing this, he heard a sob beside him, and
looked down to see Nathalie weeping.
"What is it, my pet?" he asked, anxiously.
"Oh, papa," she answered, "why do you sing that nobody cares for you,
when you know I love you so dearly?"
The miller was surprised, for he had sung the song so long he had
forgotten what the words meant.
"Do you indeed love me, Nathalie?" he asked.
"Indeed, indeed! You know I do!" she replied.
"Then," said the miller, with a happy laugh, as he bent down and
kissed the tear-stained face, "I shall change my song."
And after that he sang:
"I love sweet Nathalie, that I do.
For Nathalie she loves me."
The years passed by and the miller was very happy. Nathalie grew to
be a sweet and lovely maiden, and she learned to cook the meals and
tend the house, and that made it easier for the miller, for now he was
growing old.
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