Where did you used to see them? asks Walter, still excited.

Right here in this room, answers grandfather.  There used to be two of them, when I was a boy; and often I would see them, though none of the grown-up people could see them at all.  During the daytime they used often to hide in the wood-box over there:  and then at night, they used to come out and play.  And sometimes they worked, too, for I can remember my father saying sometimes in the morning, “The floor looks so clean that I think the brownies must have swept it last night.”

But, Grandfather, says Walter, for there is one thing about this that puzzles him, I’m a little boy, and I’ve never seen the brownies.

No, not yet, grandfather admits, but I think you’re likely to any time now.  You see, they don’t show themselves to very little boys, for fear of frightening them.

Gertrude, who has been listening carefully to all of this, has a question to ask.  Grandmother, she says, did you see the brownies, too, when you were a little girl?

No, indeed, answers grandmother.  The brownies never wanted any girls to see them.  But I used to see the house-fairies often, and they always hid away from the boys, so that only we girls ever saw them.

How many house-fairies were there, Grandmother, asks Gertrude eagerly, and where did you see them, and what did they do?

My, what a lot of questions!  Grandmother says, smiling at Gertrude’s excitement.  There were two of them at our house, and they lived in the kitchen just as the brownies did here.  They used to hide in a big clothes basket very much like that one over there.  At night, like the brownies, they used to do some of the house-work to help mother; and how pleased she used to be, when she found in the morning that some of the work had been done for her while she was asleep.

Do you suppose, says Walter, that if I woke up some night, and came and looked in here, I’d see the brownies working or playing?

Very likely, answers grandfather.

Oh, I’d like to try it, cries Walter.  Can I do it tonight?

But grandmother says:  No, indeed, Walter.  What is your Grandfather thinking of to put such a notion into your head.  And as for tonight—­well, of all nights in the year!—­the very night when we expect Santa Claus to come and fill the stockings.  And you know how displeased he would be to find the children awake and watching him.  Why, he very likely would go away without leaving a single present.

To be sure, says grandfather.  No, it wouldn’t do at all.  And, besides, think how tired you’d be for tomorrow.  And then you’d be sorry with all the goings-on.  By dinner time, you’d probably be falling asleep, and we’d have to eat all the goose and the pudding without you.

We wouldn’t want to miss that, says Gertrude, shaking her head decisively.  I saw the pudding out in the store closet, and I tell you, it smelt good.