“Mother! mother!  Trout’s luck has come again.”  “And yet, no!” he thought, “the old lady’s asleep, it’s a shame to wake her, I’ll tell those idle rascally lads, they’ll be more pleased than they deserve.  It was Tommy after all that set the water and caught him.”  “Boys! boys!” he shouted at the foot of the ladder, “the Brownie has come!—­and if he hasn’t found my measure!” he added on returning to the kitchen; “this is as good as a day’s work to me.”

There was great excitement in the small household that day.  The boys kept their own counsel.  The old Grandmother was triumphant, and tried not to seem surprised.  The Tailor made no such vain effort, and remained till bed-time in a state of fresh and unconcealed amazement.

“I’ve often heard of the Good People,” he broke out towards the end of the evening.  “And I’ve heard folk say they’ve known those that have seen them capering round the grey rocks on the moor at midnight:  but this is wonderful!  To come and do the work for a pan of cold water!  Who could have believed it?”

“You might have believed it if you’d believed me, son Thomas,” said the old lady tossily.  “I told you so.  But young people always know better than their elders!”

“I didn’t see him,” said the Tailor, beginning his story afresh; “but I thought as I came in I heard a sort of laughing and rustling.”

“My mother said they often heard him playing and laughing about the house,” said the old lady.  “I told you so.”

“Well, he sha’n’t want for a bowl of bread-and-milk to-morrow, anyhow,” said the Tailor, “if I have to stick to Farmer Swede’s waistcoat till midnight.”

But the waistcoat was finished by bed-time, and the Tailor set the bread-and-milk-himself, and went to rest.

“I say,” said Tommy, when both the boys were in bed, “the Old Owl was right, and we must stick to it.  But I’ll tell you what I don’t like, and that is Father thinking we’re idle still.  I wish he knew we were the Brownies.”

“So do I,” said Johnnie; and he sighed.

“I tell you what,” said Tommy, with the decisiveness of elder brotherhood, “we’ll keep quiet for a bit for fear we should leave off; but when we’ve gone on a good while, I shall tell him.  It was only the Old Owl’s grandmother’s great-grandmother who said it was to be kept secret, and the Old Owl herself said grandmothers were not always in the right.”

“No more they are,” said Johnnie; “look at Granny about this.”

“I know,” said Tommy.  “She’s in a regular muddle.”

“So she is,” said Johnnie.  “But that’s rather fun, I think.”

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.