"That's right," nodded the Old Owl. "I said you were a boy who could understand when one spoke. And remember that the Brownies never are seen at their work. They get up before the household, and get away before any one can see them. I can't tell you why. I don't think my grandmother's great-grandmother knew. Perhaps because all good deeds are better done in secret." "Please," said Tommy, "I should like to go home now, and tell Johnnie. It's getting cold, and I am so tired!" "Very true," said the Old Owl, "and then you will have to be up early to-morrow. I think I had better take you home." "I know the way, thank you," said Tommy. "I didn't say _shew_ you the way, I said _take_ you--carry you," said the Owl. "Lean against me." "I'd rather not, thank you," said Tommy. "Lean against me," screamed the Owl. "Oohoo! how obstinate boys are to be sure!" Tommy crept up, very unwillingly. "Lean your full weight, and shut your eyes," said the Owl. Tommy laid his head against the Old Owl's feathers, had a vague idea that she smelt of heather, and thought it must be from living on the moor, shut his eyes, and leant his full weight, expecting that he and the Owl would certainly fall off the beam together. Down--feathers--fluff--he sank and sank, could feel nothing solid, jumped up with a start to save himself, opened his eyes, and found that he was sitting among the heather in the malt-loft, with Johnnie sleeping by his side. "How quickly we came!" said he; "that is certainly a very clever Old Owl. I couldn't have counted ten whilst my eyes were shut. How very odd!" But what was odder still was, that it was no longer moonlight but early dawn. "Get up, Johnnie," said his brother, "I've got a story to tell you." And while Johnnie sat up, and rubbed his eyes open, he related his adventures on the moor. "Is all that true?" said Johnnie. "I mean, did it really happen?" "Of course it did," said his brother; "don't you believe it?" "Oh yes," said Johnnie. "But I thought it was perhaps only a true story, like Granny's true stories. I believe all those, you know. But if you were there, you know, it is different--" "I was there," said Tommy, "and it's all just as I tell you: and I tell you what, if we mean to do anything we must get up: though, oh dear! I should like to stay in bed. I say," he added, after a pause, "suppose we do. It can't matter being Boggarts for one night more. I mean to be a Brownie before I grow up, though. I couldn't stand boggarty children." "I won't be a Boggart at all," said Johnnie, "It's horrid. But I don't see how we can be Brownies, for I'm afraid we can't do the things. I wish I were bigger!" "I can do it well enough," said Tommy, following his brother's example and getting up. "Don't you suppose I can light a fire? Think of all the bonfires we have made! And I don't think I should mind having a regular good tidy-up either. It's that stupid putting-away-things-when-you've-done-with-them that I hate so!"