I WON'T
by Juliana Horatia Ewing · from Old-Fashioned Fairy Tales
Adapted Version
Once there was a boy named Abinadab. He always said, "No!" He was small. His Mother thought he was cute. He often pouted his lip. He did not want to do things. He always said, "No!" He was stubborn.
Abinadab walked on the path. He walked in the middle. A Kind Man came behind him. "Please move," the Kind Man said. Kind Man hurried. Abinadab said, "No!" He moved. Abinadab did not like it.
Abinadab went to the shop. He got many things. He did not want to pay. He said, "No!" to the shopkeeper. So Abinadab went to a small room. He stayed there. His Mother came. She paid the money. Then Abinadab could leave.
His Mother died. Abinadab ran the mill. He did not like customers. He said, "No!" to many people. He did not want their grain. The people went away. They did not come back. His mill was empty.
Abinadab's friends talked to him. "Be nice to people," they said. Abinadab said, "No!" He did not listen. All the people went to another mill. Abinadab lost his work.
Abinadab had no money. He could not pay. The mill owner wanted money. Abinadab said, "No!" He would not leave. The owner asked him to go. Abinadab had to leave his mill.
Abinadab lived in a barn. A Cat lived there too. The Cat made much noise. Meow, meow, meow. Abinadab was very angry. He did not like the noise. He scared the Cat away. The Cat ran far away.
The Cat was gone. Now many mice came. They ran on Abinadab. They ran on his bed. Abinadab could not sleep. He was very, very angry. He did not like the mice.
Abinadab was very angry. He looked in the mirror. He made an angry face. He pouted his lip. He pouted it very much. His lip hurt. He looked very silly. Abinadab did not care.
Abinadab felt sad. He was very angry. He did not want people to see him. He did not want people to laugh. He had a silly face. So he left the town.
The Kind Man saw Abinadab. "Do you need help?" he asked. He gave Abinadab a horse. "Be kind to this horse," he said. Abinadab said, "No!" He hit the horse. He was not kind to it.
The horse did not like Abinadab. It stopped. Abinadab fell off. The horse went away. It went to the Kind Man. Abinadab walked alone. No one missed him. Abinadab walked alone. He was sad. No one was with him. Saying "No!" and being unkind is bad. It makes you sad and alone.
Original Story
"I WON'T."
"Don't Care"—so they say—fell into a goose-pond; and "I won't" is apt to come to no better an end. At least, my grandmother tells me that was how the Miller had to quit his native town, and leave the tip of his nose behind him.
It all came of his being allowed to say "I won't" when he was quite a little boy. His mother thought he looked pretty when he was pouting, and that wilfulness gave him an air which distinguished him from other people's children. And when she found out that his lower lip was becoming so big that it spoilt his beauty, and that his wilfulness gained his way twice and stood in his way eight times out of ten, it was too late to alter him.
Then she said, "Dearest Abinadab, do be more obliging!"
And he replied (as she had taught him), "I won't."
He always took what he could get, and would neither give nor give up to other people. This, he thought, was the way to get more out of life than one's neighbours.
Amongst other things, he made a point of taking the middle of the footpath.
"Will you allow me to pass you, sir?—I am in a hurry," said a voice behind him one day.
"I won't," said Abinadab; on which a poor washerwoman, with her basket, scrambled down into the road, and Abinadab chuckled.
Next day he was walking as before.
"Will you allow me to pass you, sir?—I am in a hurry," said a voice behind him.
"I won't," said Abinadab. On which he was knocked into the ditch; and the Baron walked on, and left him to get out of the mud on whichever side he liked.
He quarrelled with his friends till he had none left, and he quarrelled with the tradesmen of the town till there was only one who would serve him, and this man offended him at last.
"I'll show you who's master!" said the Miller. "I won't pay a penny of your bill—not a penny."
"Sir," said the tradesman, "my giving you offence now, is no just reason why you should refuse to pay for what you have had and been satisfied with. I must beg you to pay me at once."
"I won't," said the Miller, "and what I say I mean. I won't; I tell you, I won't."
So the tradesman summoned him before the Justice, and the Justice condemned him to pay the bill and the costs of the suit.
"I won't," said the Miller.
So they put him in prison, and in prison he would have remained if his mother had not paid the money to obtain his release. By and by she died, and left him her blessing and some very good advice, which (as is sometimes the case with bequests) would have been more useful if it had come earlier.
The Miller's mother had taken a great deal of trouble off his hands which now fell into them. She took in all the small bags of grist which the country-folk brought to be ground, and kept account of them, and spoke civilly to the customers, big and little. But these small matters irritated the Miller.
"I may be the slave of all the old women in the country-side," said he; "but I won't—they shall see that I won't."
So he put up a notice to say that he would only receive grist at a certain hour on certain days. Now, but a third of the old women could read the notice, and they did not attend to it. People came as before; but the Miller locked the door of the mill and sat in the counting-house and chuckled.
"My good friend," said his neighbours, "you can't do business in this way. If a man lives by trade, he must serve his customers. And a Miller must take in grist when it comes to the mill."
"Others may if they please," said the Miller; "but I won't. When I make a rule, I stick to it."
"Take advice, man, or you'll be ruined," said his friends.
"I won't," said the Miller.
In a few weeks all the country-folk turned their donkeys' heads towards the windmill on the heath. It was a little farther to go, but the Windmiller took custom when it came to him, gave honest measure, and added civil words gratis.
The other Miller was ruined.
"All you can do now is to leave the mill while you can pay the rent, and try another trade," said his friends.
"I won't," said the Miller. "Shall I be turned out of the house where I was born, because the country-folk are fools?"
However, he could not pay the rent, and the landlord found another tenant.
"You must quit," said he to the Miller.
"That I won't," said the Miller, "not for fifty new tenants."
So the landlord sent for the constables, and he was carried out, which is not a dignified way of changing one's residence. But then it is not easy to be obstinate and dignified at the same time.
His wrath against the landlord knew no bounds.
"Was there ever such a brute?" he cried. "Would any man of spirit hold his home at the whim of a landlord? I'll never rent another house as long as I live."
"But you must live somewhere," said his friends.
"I won't," said the Miller.
He was no longer a young man, and the new tenant pitied him.
"The poor old fellow is out of his senses," he said. And he let him sleep in one of his barns. One of the mill cats found out that there was a new warm bed in this barn, and she came and lived there too, and kept away the mice.
One night, however, Mrs. Pussy disturbed the Miller's rest. She was in and out of the window constantly, and meowed horribly into the bargain.
"It seems a man can't even sleep in peace," said the Miller. "If this happens again, you'll go into the mill-race to sing to the fishes."
The next night the cat was still on the alert, and the following morning the Miller tied a stone round her neck, and threw her into the water.
"Oh, spare the poor thing, there's a good soul," said a bystander.
"I won't," said the Miller. "I told her what would happen."
When his back was turned, however, the bystander got Pussy out, and took her home with him.
Now the cat was away, the mice could play; and they played hide-and seek over the Miller's nightcap.
It came to such a pass that there was no rest to be had.
"I won't go to bed, I declare I won't," said the Miller. So he sat up all night in an arm-chair, and threw everything he could lay his hands on at the corners where he heard the mice scuffling, till the place was topsy-turvy.
Towards morning he lit a candle and dressed himself. He was in a terrible humour; and when he began to shave, his hand shook and he cut himself. The draughts made the flame of the candle unsteady too, and the shadow of the Miller's nose (which was a large one) fell in uncertain shapes upon his cheeks, and interfered with the progress of the razor. At first he thought he would wait till daylight. Then his temper got the better of him.
"I won't," he said, "I won't; why should I?"
So he began again. He held on by his nose to steady his cheeks, and he gave it such a spiteful pinch that the tears came into his eyes.
"Matters have come to a pretty pass, when a man's own nose is to stand in his light," said he.
By and by a gust of wind came through the window. Up flared the candle, and the shadow of the Miller's nose danced half over his face, and the razor gashed his chin.
Transported with fury, he struck at it before he could think what he was doing. The razor was very sharp, and the tip of the Miller's nose came off as clean as his whiskers.
When daylight came, and he saw himself in the glass, he resolved to leave the place.
"I won't stay here to be a laughing-stock," said he.
As he trudged out on to the highway, with his bundle on his back, the Baron met him and pitied him. He dismounted from his horse, and leading it up to the Miller, he said:
"Friend, you are elderly to be going far afoot. I will lend you my mare to take you to your destination. When you are there, knot the reins and throw them on her shoulder, saying, 'Home!' She will then return to me. But mark one thing,—she is not used to whip or spur. Humour her, and she will carry you well and safely."
The Miller mounted willingly enough, and set forward. At first the mare was a little restive. The Miller had no spurs on, but, in spite of the Baron's warning, he kicked her with his heels. On this, she danced till the Miller's hat and bundle flew right and left, and he was very near to following them.
"Ah, you vixen!" he cried. "You think I'll humour you as the Baron does. But I won't—no, you shall see that I won't!" And gripping his walking-stick firmly in his hand, he belaboured the Baron's mare as if she had been a donkey.
On which she sent the Miller clean over her head, and cantered back to the castle; and wherever it was that he went to, he had to walk.
He never returned to his native village, and everybody was glad to be rid of him. One must bear and forbear with his neighbours, if he hopes to be regretted when he departs.
But my grandmother says that long after the mill had fallen into ruin, the story was told as a warning to wilful children of the Miller who cut off his nose to spite his own face.
Story DNA
Moral
Unchecked wilfulness and a refusal to compromise will ultimately lead to one's own ruin and isolation.
Plot Summary
Abinadab, a Miller, grows up with an unchecked habit of saying "I won't," fostered by his mother's indulgence. This obstinacy leads him to alienate his community, refuse to pay debts, ruin his business, and eventually lose his home. His wilfulness escalates to cruelty, as he drowns a cat, and ultimately to self-harm when, in a fit of rage while shaving, he cuts off his own nose. Humiliated, he leaves town, rejecting a kind offer of transport and being thrown from a horse he abuses, ending his story alone and unmourned.
Themes
Emotional Arc
pride to humility
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
The story reflects a time when community reputation and cooperation were essential for survival, and individual obstinacy could lead to social and economic ruin.
Plot Beats (12)
- The story introduces Abinadab, the Miller, whose wilfulness was indulged by his mother from childhood, making him habitually say "I won't."
- Abinadab consistently refuses to yield to others, taking the middle of the footpath and causing inconvenience, eventually being knocked into a ditch by a Baron for his rudeness.
- He quarrels with tradesmen, refusing to pay a bill, which leads to his imprisonment until his mother bails him out.
- After his mother's death, Abinadab refuses to manage the mill civilly, setting inconvenient hours and turning away customers, leading to his business's ruin.
- His friends advise him to change, but he refuses, leading to the loss of all his customers to a rival windmiller.
- Unable to pay rent, he refuses to quit his mill, forcing the landlord to have him forcibly removed by constables.
- Homeless, he is offered shelter in a barn by the new tenant, but he becomes annoyed by a cat and drowns it, despite a bystander's plea.
- Without the cat, mice infest his sleeping area, driving him to sleepless nights and a terrible temper.
- While shaving in a rage, annoyed by his own nose's shadow and the flickering candle, he spitefully cuts off the tip of his nose.
- Disfigured and humiliated, he decides to leave town, refusing to be a laughing-stock.
- The Baron offers him a mare for his journey, warning him not to use whip or spur, but the Miller, true to form, abuses the horse.
- The mare throws him off and returns to the Baron, leaving the Miller to walk to his unknown destination, unregretted by his former community.
Characters
Abinadab (The Miller) ★ protagonist
Initially described as a little boy with a pouting lower lip that grew large enough to spoil his beauty. As an adult, he is no longer young, suggesting a middle-aged to elderly appearance. He has a large nose, which becomes a distinguishing feature.
Attire: No specific details are given, but as a miller, he would likely wear practical, sturdy clothing suitable for his trade, such as a linen shirt, wool trousers, and a leather apron, typical of a 19th-century English or European working man. When leaving town, he carries a bundle, suggesting simple, travel-appropriate attire.
Wants: To always get his own way, to never give in or give up to others, and to assert his perceived mastery over situations and people.
Flaw: His extreme obstinacy and wilfulness, which leads him to self-sabotage and ruin. His pride prevents him from accepting help or advice.
He begins as a wilful child, grows into an obstinate adult who alienates everyone and loses his livelihood. He physically mutilates himself out of spite and is ultimately driven from his home and village, never changing his ways.
Wilful, obstinate, selfish, defiant, easily irritated, spiteful, unyielding. He consistently says 'I won't' to any request or advice, even to his own detriment.
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly man with a large, prominent nose (with the tip missing), a perpetually pouting lower lip, and a scowling expression. He has a lean build and a slightly hunched, defiant posture. He wears a simple, worn linen shirt, dark wool trousers, and sturdy leather boots. He carries a small, tied cloth bundle over his shoulder with a walking stick. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Miller's Mother ◆ supporting
No specific physical description is given, but she is old enough to have an adult son and eventually dies of natural causes.
Attire: No specific details, but as a mother of a miller in a rural setting, she would likely wear practical, modest clothing such as a long linen dress, an apron, and a cap, typical of a 19th-century European peasant woman.
Wants: To care for her son and manage the mill's affairs. Later, to mitigate the consequences of her son's obstinacy.
Flaw: Her initial indulgence of her son's bad habits, which ultimately led to his downfall.
She realizes her mistake too late to change her son. She continues to support him until her death, leaving him advice that he ignores.
Indulgent, doting, enabling, later regretful, responsible, civil. She initially found her son's wilfulness 'pretty' but later tried to correct him.
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly woman with a kind, worried expression. She has soft, grey hair pulled back neatly under a plain white linen cap. She wears a simple, long-sleeved dark blue linen dress with a white apron tied at the waist. Her hands are clasped gently in front of her. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Baron ◆ supporting
No specific details, but his status implies a well-groomed and possibly imposing figure. He rides a horse, suggesting a man of means and physical capability.
Attire: As a Baron, he would wear fine, tailored clothing appropriate for a nobleman of the 19th century, such as a dark wool riding coat, breeches, polished leather boots, and possibly a cravat. His attire would be of high quality and well-maintained.
Wants: To move freely, to maintain order, and later, to offer aid to someone in need.
Flaw: None explicitly shown, but his generosity is taken advantage of.
He serves as a catalyst for Abinadab's consequences and later offers a chance for redemption, which Abinadab squanders.
Assertive, decisive, generous, observant, practical. He doesn't tolerate Abinadab's obstruction but later shows pity and offers assistance.
Image Prompt & Upload
A distinguished adult man with a noble bearing, riding a dark brown mare. He has a firm but kind expression. He wears a tailored dark green wool riding coat, light breeches, and tall black leather riding boots. A white cravat is neatly tied at his neck. He holds the reins of his horse with one hand. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Mrs. Pussy (The Mill Cat) ○ minor
A domestic cat, likely of average size. No specific color or breed is mentioned, but a common barn cat would be a tabby or black cat.
Attire: None, as an animal.
Wants: To find a warm place to sleep and to hunt mice.
Flaw: Vulnerable to human cruelty.
She finds a new warm bed, disturbs Abinadab, is nearly killed by him, but is rescued and taken to a new home.
Instinctual, persistent, vocal (meows horribly), helpful (keeps mice away).
Image Prompt & Upload
A sleek, short-haired tabby cat, with dark stripes and a white chest, looking alert. Its tail is slightly raised. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Miller's Mill and Home
A traditional European mill, likely a watermill given the mention of a 'mill-race', with a counting-house and living quarters. The interior of his home is cluttered and topsy-turvy from his mouse-fighting, with a shaving mirror and candle. The mill itself eventually falls into ruin.
Mood: Initially bustling, then increasingly desolate and chaotic, reflecting the Miller's stubbornness and decline. Later, it becomes a place of ruin.
The Miller's business declines here due to his refusal to serve customers. He later lives in a barn on the property, and it's where he cuts off his nose while shaving in a fit of pique.
Image Prompt & Upload
A weathered, half-timbered watermill with a large wooden wheel, nestled beside a fast-flowing stream. The mill's windows are dark and some panes are broken, indicating disuse. Overgrown ivy climbs the stone foundation, and the thatched roof sags in places. A narrow, muddy path leads to a heavy, padlocked wooden door. The overall impression is one of neglect and decay under a grey, overcast sky. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Village Footpath
A narrow, unpaved path through a rural European village, likely flanked by ditches or lower ground. It's a public thoroughfare used by villagers for daily travel.
Mood: Initially mundane, then becomes a place of conflict due to the Miller's obstructionist behavior.
The Miller repeatedly refuses to let others pass on the footpath, leading to a washerwoman scrambling into the road and the Baron knocking him into a ditch.
Image Prompt & Upload
A winding, well-trodden dirt footpath, barely wide enough for two people, cutting through a gently rolling, green countryside. On one side, a shallow, grassy ditch runs parallel to the path, leading down to a field of wildflowers. The path is bordered by low, thorny bushes and occasional gnarled oak trees. The sky is a clear, bright blue with a few wispy clouds, casting soft, even daylight over the scene. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
The Highway
A main road or thoroughfare outside the village, likely unpaved but wider than a footpath, used for longer journeys. It connects the village to other towns and is suitable for horses.
Mood: Initially hopeful as the Miller leaves, but quickly turns into another scene of his downfall due to his stubbornness.
The Miller, having left his ruined mill, encounters the Baron who offers him his mare. The Miller's refusal to 'humour' the mare leads to him being thrown off and left to walk.
Image Prompt & Upload
A broad, dusty dirt highway stretches into the distance, flanked by mature, leafy deciduous trees that cast dappled shadows. The road surface shows wagon ruts and hoof prints. On either side, open fields of golden wheat sway gently in a light breeze. The sky is a vast, pale blue with the sun high overhead, indicating mid-morning. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
