I’m an old man and my beard is long and white but I still have the strength to chop Yule logs. So far, the work has kept me outside the Hall of the Dead.
One night a young man came by. He was holding an ham and heading into the Hall. He greeted me and I asked him where he was going with his ham at this late hour.
“I am going to Dead Man’s Hall, if only I am on the right track.”
“Oh! Why, yes, you are right enough, for it is here,” I said. “When you get inside they will all want to buy your ham because they don’t get much meat to eat there.” I told him not to sell it unless they gave him the hand-mill that stood behind the door. “It’s useful for almost everything, but you’ll have to learn how to stop it,” I said. “When you come out, I’ll teach you.”
When the young lad came out of the Hall, he was holding the hand-mill. It would grind out anything he wished for, but if he didn’t learn how to stop it, it would turn into his worst nightmare.