The Brownies and Other Tales by Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing


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Page 15

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-blinds, 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.

One day a message came to him to offer him two or three days' tailoring
in a farm-house some miles up the valley. This was pleasant and
advantageous sort of work; good food, sure pay, and a cheerful change;
but he did not know how he could leave his family, unless, indeed, the
Brownie might be relied upon to "keep the house together," as they say.
The boys were sure that he would, and they promised to set his water,
and to give as little trouble as possible; so, finally, the Tailor took
up his shears and went up the valley, where the green banks sloped up
into purple moor, or broke into sandy rocks, crowned with nodding oak
fern. On to the prosperous old farm, where he spent a very pleasant
time, sitting level with the window geraniums on a table set apart for
him, stitching and gossiping, gossiping and stitching, and feeling
secure of honest payment when his work was done. The mistress of the
house was a kind good creature, and loved a chat; and though the Tailor
kept his own secret as to the Brownies, he felt rather curious to know
if the Good People had any hand in the comfort of this flourishing
household, and watched his opportunity to make a few careless inquiries
on the subject.

"Brownies?" laughed the dame. "Ay, Master, I have heard of them. When I
was a girl, in service at the old hall, on Cowberry Edge, I heard a
good deal of one they said had lived there in former times. He did
house-work as well as a woman, and a good deal quicker, they said. One
night one of the young ladies (that were then, they're all dead now)
hid herself in a cupboard, to see what he was like."

"And what was he like?" inquired the Tailor, as composedly as he was
able.

"A little fellow, they said," answered the Farmer's wife, knitting
calmly on. "Like a dwarf, you know, with a largish head for his body.
Not taller than--why, my Bill, or your eldest boy, perhaps. And he was
dressed in rags, with an old cloak on, and stamping with passion at a
cobweb he couldn't get at with his broom. They've very uncertain
tempers, they say. Tears one minute, and laughing the next."

"You never had one here, I suppose?" said the Tailor.

"Not we," she answered; "and I think I'd rather not. They're not canny
after all; and my master and me have always been used to work, and
we've sons and daughters to help us, and that's better than meddling
with the Fairies, to my mind. No! no!" she added, laughing, "if we had
had one you'd have heard of it, whoever didn't, for I should have had
some decent clothes made for him. I couldn't stand rags and old cloaks,
messing and moth-catching, in my house."

"They say it's not lucky to give them clothes, though," said the
Tailor; "they don't like it."

"Tell me!" said the dame, "as if any one that liked a tidy room
wouldn't like tidy clothes, if they could get them. No! no! when we
have one, you shall take his measure, I promise you."

And this was all the Tailor got out of her on the subject. When his
work was finished, the Farmer paid him at once; and the good dame added
half a cheese, and a bottle-green coat.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 17th Mar 2025, 8:41