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Page 11
"And what are Brownies like, pray?" inquired the Owl.
"The one Granny knew was a useful little fellow, something like a
little man," said Tommy.
"Ah!" said the Owl, "but you know at present this one is an idle little
fellow, something like a little man. Oohoo! oohoo! Are you quite sure
you didn't see him?"
"Quite," answered Tommy sharply. "I saw no one but myself."
"Hoot! toot! How touchy we are! And who are you, pray?"
"I'm not a Brownie," said Tommy.
"Don't be too sure," said the Owl. "Did you find out the word?"
"No," said Tommy. "I could find no word with any meaning that would
rhyme but 'myself.'"
"Well, that runs and rhymes," said the Owl. "What do you want? Where's
your brother now?"
"In bed in the malt-loft," said Tommy.
"Then now all your questions are answered," said the Owl, "and you know
what wants doing, so go and do it. Good-night, or rather good-morning,
for it is long past midnight;" and the old lady began to shake her
feathers for a start.
"Don't go yet, please," said Tommy humbly. "I don't understand it. You
know I'm not a Brownie, am I?"
"Yes, you are," said the Owl, "and a very idle one too. All children
are Brownies."
"But I couldn't do work like a Brownie," said Tommy.
"Why not?" inquired the Owl. "Couldn't you sweep the floor, light the
fire, spread the table, tidy the room, fetch the turf, pick up your own
chips, and sort your grandmother's scraps? You know 'there's lots to
do.'"
"But I don't think I should like it," said Tommy. "I'd much rather have
a Brownie to do it for me."
"And what would you do meanwhile?" asked the Owl. "Be idle, I suppose;
and what do you suppose is the use of a man's having children if they
do nothing to help him? Ah! if they only knew how every one would love
them if they made themselves useful!"
"But is it really and truly so?" asked Tommy, in a dismal voice. "Are
there no Brownies but children?"
"No, there are not," said the Owl. "And pray do you think that the
Brownies, whoever they may be, come into the house to save trouble for
the idle healthy little boys who live in it? Listen to me, Tommy," said
the old lady, her eyes shooting rays of fire in the dark corner where
she sat. "Listen to me, you are a clever boy, and can understand when
one speaks; so I will tell you the whole history of the Brownies, as it
has been handed down in our family from my grandmother's
great-grandmother, who lived in the Druid's Oak, and was intimate with
the fairies. And when I have done you shall tell me what you think they
are, if they are not children. It's the opinion I have come to at any
rate, and I don't think that wisdom died with our great-grandmothers."
"I should like to hear if you please," said Tommy.
The Old Owl shook out a tuft or two of fluff, and set her eyes a-going
and began:
"The Brownies, or, as they are sometimes called, the Small Folk, the
Little People, or the Good People, are a race of tiny beings who
domesticate themselves in a house of which some grown-up human being
pays the rent and taxes. They are like small editions of men and women,
they are too small and fragile for heavy work; they have not the
strength of a man, but are a thousand times more fresh and nimble. They
can run and jump, and roll and tumble, with marvellous agility and
endurance, and of many of the aches and pains which men and women groan
under, they do not even know the names. They have no trade or
profession, and as they live entirely upon other people, they know
nothing of domestic cares; in fact, they know very little upon any
subject, though they are often intelligent and highly inquisitive. They
love dainties, play, and mischief. They are apt to be greatly beloved,
and are themselves capriciously affectionate. They are little people,
and can only do little things. When they are idle and mischievous, they
are called Boggarts, and are a curse to the house they live in. When
they are useful and considerate, they are Brownies, and are a
much-coveted blessing. Sometimes the Blessed Brownies will take up
their abode with some worthy couple, cheer them with their romps and
merry laughter, tidy the house, find things that have been lost, and
take little troubles out of hands full of great anxieties. Then in time
these Little People are Brownies no longer. They grow up into men and
women. They do not care so much for dainties, play, or mischief. They
cease to jump and tumble, and roll about the house. They know more, and
laugh less. Then, when their heads begin to ache with anxiety, and they
have to labour for their own living, and the great cares of life come
on, other Brownies come and live with them, and take up their little
cares, and supply their little comforts, and make the house merry once
more."
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