While his brother was rubbing his eyes Tommy told him of his visit to
the Old Owl in the grove.
"Is that all true?" asked Johnny.
"It is all just as I tell you, and if we don't want to be boggarts, we
must get up and go to work."
"I won't be a boggart," said Johnny, and so the two brownies crept
softly down the ladder into the kitchen. "I will light the fire,"
said Tommy. "And you, Johnny, can dig some potatoes to roast for
breakfast." They swept the room and laid the table. Just as they were
putting the potatoes in a dish they heard footsteps.
"There's father," said Tommy; "we must run."
The poor tailor came wearily down the stairs. Morning after morning he
had found an untidy room and an empty table. But now when he entered
the kitchen, he looked around in great surprise. He put his hand out
to the fire to see if it was really warm. He touched the potatoes and
looked at the neat room. Then he shouted, "Mother, mother! boys, boys,
the brownie has come!"
There was great excitement in the small house, but the boys said
nothing. All day the tailor talked about the brownie. "I have often
heard of Little People," he said, "but this is wonderful. To come and
do the work for a pan of cold water! Who would have believed it?"
The boys said nothing until they were both in bed. Then Tommy said:
"The Old Owl was right, and we must stick to the work if we don't
want to be boggarts. But I don't like to have father thinking that we
are still idle. I wish he knew that we are the brownies."
"So do I," said Johnny.
Day after day went by and still the boys rose early, and each day they
found more and more to do. The brownies were the joy of the tailor's
life.
One day a message came for the tailor to go to a farmhouse several
miles away. The farmer gave him an order for a suit of clothes, and
paid him at once. Full of joy at his good fortune, he hurried home. As
he came near the house, he saw that the garden had been weeded. "It's
that brownie!" he said; "and I shall make a suit of clothes for him."
"If you make clothes for the brownie, he will leave the house," said
the grandmother.
"Not if the clothes are a good fit, mother. I shall measure them by
Tommy, for they say the brownies are about his size."
At last a fine new suit with brass buttons was finished and laid out
for the brownie.
"Don't the clothes look fine?" said Tommy, when he came down in the
morning; "I'll try them on."
The tailor rose earlier than usual that day, for he wished to catch a
glimpse of the brownies. He went softly downstairs. There was Johnny
sweeping the floor, and Tommy trying on the new suit.
"What does this mean?" shouted the father.
"It's the brownies," said the boys.
"This is no joke," cried the tailor, angrily. "Where are the real
brownies, I say?"
"We are the only brownies, father," said Tommy.
"I can't understand this. Who has been sweeping the kitchen lately, I
should like to know?"
"We have," said the boys.
"Who gets breakfast and puts things in order?"
"We do! we do!" they shouted.
"But when do you do it?"
"Early in the morning before you come down."
"But if you do the work, where is the brownie?"
"Here," cried the boys; "we are the brownies, and we are sorry that we
were boggarts so long."
The father was delighted to find how helpful his boys had become. The
grandmother, however, could hardly believe that a real brownie had not
been in the house. But as she sat in her chair day after day watching
the boys at their work, she often repeated her favorite saying,
"Children are a blessing."
* * * * *