From the Bodleian Library ballad collection: Harding B 5(7).
"between 1736 and 1763"

Douce Ballads 4(44) is nearly the same.

The MILLER's Advice to his Three Sons,
in Taking of TOLL.

There was a Miller who had three Sons,
And knowing his life was almost run,
He call'd them all, and ask'd their will,
If that to them he left his Mill.

He called first for his eldest Son,
Saying, My Life is almost run;
If I to you this Mill do make,
What Toll do you intend to take?

Father, said he, my Name is Jack,
Out of a Bushel I'll take a Peck,
From every Bushel that I grind,
That so I may a good Living find.

Thou art a Fool, the old Man said,
Thou hast not well learn'd thy Trade;
This Mill to thee I ne'er will give,
For by such Toll no man can live.

He called for his middlemost Son,
Saying, My Life is almost run;
If I to thee the Mill do make,
What Toll do you intend to take?

Father, says he, my Name is Ralph,
Out of a Bushel I'll take it half,
From every Bushel that I grind,
That so I may a good Living find.

Thou art a Fool, the old Man said,
Thou hast not well learn'd thy Trade;
This Mill to you I ne'er can give,
For by such Toll no Man can live.

He called then for his youngest Son,
Saying, My Life is almost run;
If I to you this Mill do make,
What Toll do you intend to take?

Father, said he, I'm your only Boy,
For taking Toll is all my Joy:
Before I will a good Living lack,
I'll take it all, and forswear the Sack.

Thou art my Boy, the old Man said,
For thou hast learned well thy Trade,
This Mill to thee I'll give, he cry'd,
And then clos'd up his Eyes, and dy'd.

Printed and Sold at the Printing-Office in Bow Church-Yard, London.