Taleswapper wasn’t the sort of man who could work in silence, though. Since the others weren’t too conversational at first, he told stories the whole time. And since they were grown men instead of children, he told stories that weren’t all adventure and heroics and tragic death.

Most of the afternoon, in fact, he devoted to the sap of John Adams: How his house was burnt down by a Boston mob after he won the acquittal of ten women accused of witchcraft. How Alex Hamilton invited him to Manhattan Island, where the two of them set up a law practice together. How in ten years they managed to maneuver the Dutch government to allow unlimited immigration of non-Dutch-speaking people, until English, Scotch, Welsh, and Irish were a majority in New Amsterdam and New Orange, and a large minority in New Holland. How they got English declared a second official language in 1780, just in time for the Dutch colonies to become three of the seven original states under the American Compact.

“I’ll bet the Dutchmen hated those boys, by the time they were through,” said David.

“They were better politicians than that,” said Taleswapper. “Why, both of them learned to speak Dutch better than most Dutchmen, and had their children grow up speaking Dutch in Dutch schools. They were so dadgum Dutch, boys, that when Alex Hamilton ran for governor of New Amsterdam and John Adams ran for president of the United States, they both did better in the Dutch parts of New Netherland than they did among the Scotch and Irish.”

“Reckon if I run for mayor, I could get those Swedes and Dutchmen downriver to vote for me?” said David.

“I wouldn’t even vote for you,” said Calm.

“I would,” said Measure. “And I hope someday you do run for mayor.”

“He can’t run for mayor,” said Calm. “This ain’t even a proper town.”

“It will be,” said Taleswapper. “I’ve seen it before. Once you get this mill working, it won’t be long before three hundred people dwell between your mill and Vigor Church.”

“You think so?”

“Right now people come in to Armor’s store maybe three or four times a year,” said Taleswapper. “But when they can get flour, they’ll come in much more often. They’ll prefer your mill to any other around here for some time, too, since you’ve got a smooth road and good bridges.”

“If the mill makes money,” Measure said, “Pa’s sure to send for a Buhr Stone from France. We had one back in West Hampshire, before the flood broke up the mill. And a Buhr Stone means fine white flour.”

“And white flour means good business,” said David. “We older ones, we remember.” He smiled wistfully. “We were almost rich there, once.”

“So,” said Taleswapper. “With all that traffic here, it won’t be just a store and a church and a mill. There’s good white clay down on the Wobbish. Some potter’s bound to go into business, making redware and stoneware for the whole territory. “