“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.”

“How nice!” said Tommy.