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I could see his mind working, stone-cold, grinding like a millwheel.

He stopped; while my head turned round like a millwheel.

I would have loved to see the millwheel turn again, as it did in the old days.

He heard Granddaddy Bullfrog singing in the Duck Pond, and the splash of the millwheel as it turned slowly over and over.

Then, hurrying through the gateway, The dashing waters found A mighty millwheel waiting, And turned it swiftly round.