"You might have believed it if you'd believed me, Son Thomas," said
the old lady tossily. "I told you so. But young people always know
better than their elders!"
"I didn't see him," said the Tailor, beginning his story afresh; "but
I thought as I came in I heard a sort of laughing and rustling."
"My mother said they often heard him playing and laughing about the
house," said the old lady. "I told you so."
"Well, he shan't want for a bowl of bread and milk to-morrow, anyhow,"
said the Tailor, "if I have to stick to Farmer Swede's waistcoat till
midnight."
But the waistcoat was finished by bed-time, and the Tailor set the
bread and milk himself, and went to rest.
"I say," said Tommy, when both the boys were in bed, "the Old Owl was
right, and we must stick to it. But I'll tell you what I don't like,
and that is, father thinking we're idle still. I wish he knew we were
the Brownies."
"So do I," said Johnnie; and he sighed.
"I tell you what," said Tommy, with the decisiveness of elder
brotherhood, "we'll keep quiet for a bit for fear we should leave off;
but when we've gone on a good while, I shall tell him. It was only the
Old Owl's grandmother's great-grandmother who said it was to be kept
secret, and the Old Owl herself said grandmothers were not always in
the right."
"No more they are," said Johnnie; "look at Granny about this."
"I know," said Tommy. "She's in a regular muddle."
"So she is," said Johnnie. "But that's rather fun, I think."
And they went to sleep.
Day after day went by, and still the Brownies "stuck to it," and did
their work. It is no such very hard matter after all to get up early
when one is young and light-hearted, and sleeps upon heather in a loft
without window-blind, and with so many broken window-panes that the
air comes freely in. In old times the boys used to play at tents among
the heather, while the Tailor did the house-work; now they came down
and did it for him.
Size is not everything, even in this material existence. One has heard
of dwarfs who were quite as clever, (not to say as powerful,) as
giants, and I do not fancy that Fairy Godmothers are ever very large.
It is wonderful what a comfort Brownies may be in the house that is
fortunate enough to hold them! The Tailor's Brownies were the joy of
his life; and day after day they seemed to grow more and more
ingenious in finding little things to do for his good.
Now-a-days Granny never picked a scrap for herself. One day's
shearings were all neatly arranged the next morning, and laid by her
knitting-pins; and the Tailor's tape and shears were no more absent
without leave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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