The Brownies and Other Tales by Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing


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Page 16

"That has been laid by for being too small for the master now he's so
stout," she said; "but except for a stain or two it's good enough, and
will cut up like new for one of the lads."

The Tailor thanked them, and said farewell, and went home. Down the
valley, where the river, wandering between the green banks and the
sandy rocks, was caught by giant mosses, and bands of fairy fern, and
there choked and struggled, and at last barely escaped with an
existence, and ran away in a diminished stream. On up the purple hills
to the old ruined house. As he came in at the gate he was struck by
some idea of change, and looking again, he saw that the garden had been
weeded, and was comparatively tidy. The truth is, that Tommy and
Johnnie had taken advantage of the Tailor's absence to do some
Brownie's work in the daytime.

"It's that Blessed Brownie!" said the Tailor. "Has he been as usual?"
he asked, when he was in the house.

"To be sure," said the old lady; "all has been well, son Thomas."

"I'll tell you what it is," said the Tailor, after a pause. "I'm a
needy man, but I hope I'm not ungrateful. I can never repay the Brownie
for what he has done for me and mine; but the mistress up yonder has
given me a bottle-green coat that will cut up as good as new; and as
sure as there's a Brownie in this house, I'll make him a suit of it."

"You'll _what_?" shrieked the old lady. "Son Thomas, son Thomas, you're
mad! Do what you please for the Brownies, but never make them clothes."

"There's nothing they want more," said the Tailor, "by all accounts.
They're all in rags, as well they may be, doing so much work."

"If you make clothes for this Brownie, he'll go for good," said the
Grandmother, in a voice of awful warning.

"Well, I don't know," said her son. "The mistress up at the farm is
clever enough, I can tell you; and as she said to me, fancy any one
that likes a tidy room not liking a tidy coat!" For the Tailor, like
most men, was apt to think well of the wisdom of womankind in other
houses.

"Well, well," said the old lady, "go your own way. I'm an old woman,
and my time is not long. It doesn't matter much to me. But it was new
clothes that drove the Brownie out before, and Trout's luck went with
him."

"I know, Mother," said the Tailor, "and I've been thinking of it all
the way home; and I can tell you why it was. Depend upon it, _the
clothes didn't fit_. But I'll tell you what I mean to do. I shall
measure them by Tommy--they say the Brownies are about his size--and if
ever I turned out a well-made coat and waistcoat, they shall be his."

"Please yourself," said the old lady, and she would say no more.

"I think you're quite right, Father," said Tommy, "and if I can, I'll
help you to make them."

Next day the father and son set to work, and Tommy contrived to make
himself so useful, that the Tailor hardly knew how he got through so
much work.

"It's not like the same thing," he broke out at last, "to have some one
a bit helpful about you; both for the tailoring and for company's sake.
I've not done such a pleasant morning's work since your poor mother
died. I'll tell you what it is, Tommy," he added, "if you were always
like this, I shouldn't much care whether Brownie stayed or went. I'd
give up his help to have yours."

"I'll be back directly," said Tommy, who burst out of the room in
search of his brother.

"I've come away," he said, squatting down, "because I can't bear it. I
very nearly let it all out, and I shall soon. I wish the things weren't
going to come to me," he added, kicking a stone in front of him. "I
wish he'd measured you, Johnnie."

"I'm very glad he didn't," said Johnnie. "I wish he'd kept them
himself."

"Bottle-green, with brass buttons," murmured Tommy, and therewith fell
into a reverie.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 17th Mar 2025, 11:06