On certain days in the week Geneva presents a cheerful and animated
appearance. On every hand are heard the sounds of honest toil and the
hum of busy trade. Farmers from the surrounding country come in numbers
into the village to purchase their necessary supplies and to listen to
the news and gossip of the day, and the numerous stores transact a
thriving business and reap a handsome profit on their wares.
The old mill, weather-beaten and white with the accumulating flour dust
of ages, and with the cobwebs hanging thick and heavy from its dingy
rafters, stands near by, and this too is an object of interest to the
sturdy farmers of the surrounding country. From morn till night its
wheels go round, transmuting the grain into the various articles of
consumption for man and beast, and bringing a goodly share of "honest
toll" into the coffers of the unimpeachable old miller. The mill is a
great place of meeting for the farmers, and the yard in its front is
daily filled with teams from the country, whose owners congregate in
groups and converse upon topics of general interest, or disperse
themselves, while waiting for their "grist," about the town to transact
the various matters of business which had brought them hither.
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