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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30494 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF
+
+A BROWNIE
+
+AS TOLD TO MY CHILD
+
+BY MISS MULOCK
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+          NEW YORK
+          McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHTED--1908--BY McLOUGHLIN BROS.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FIRST
+          Brownie and the Cook               5
+
+          ADVENTURE THE SECOND
+          Brownie and the Cherry-tree       17
+
+          ADVENTURE THE THIRD
+          Brownie in the Farmyard           26
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FOURTH
+          Brownie's Ride                    41
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FIFTH
+          Brownie on the Ice                58
+
+          ADVENTURE THE SIXTH AND LAST
+          Brownie and the Clothes           73
+
+          POEMS
+          The Blackbird and the Rooks       88
+          The Shaking of the Pear-tree      91
+          The Wonderful Apple-tree          95
+          The Jealous Boy                   98
+          The Story of the Birkenhead       99
+          Birds in the Snow                105
+          The Little Comforter             107
+          Don't Be Afraid                  108
+          Girl and Boy                     109
+          Agnes at Prayer                  110
+          Going to Work                    111
+          Three Companions                 112
+          The Motherless Child             113
+          The Wren's Nest                  115
+          A Child's Smile                  116
+          Over the Hills and Far Away      118
+          The Two Raindrops                119
+          The Year's End                   120
+          Running After the Rainbow        121
+          Dick and I                       123
+          Grandpapa                        124
+          Monsieur et Mademoiselle         125
+          Young Dandelion                  127
+          A September Robin                128
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FIRST
+
+BROWNIE AND THE COOK
+
+
+THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived--where do you think he lived?
+in a coal-cellar.
+
+Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in;
+but then a Brownie is a curious creature--a fairy, and yet not one of
+that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and dance in the
+moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would
+they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober, stay-at-home, household
+elf--nothing much to look at, even if you did see him, which you are not
+likely to do--only a little old man, about a foot high, all dressed in
+brown, with a brown face and hands, and a brown peaked cap, just the
+color of a brown mouse. And, like a mouse, he hides in corners--especially
+kitchen corners, and only comes out after dark when nobody is about, and
+so sometimes people call him Mr. Nobody.
+
+I said you were not likely to see him. I never did, certainly, and never
+knew any body that did; but still, if you were to go into Devonshire,
+you would hear many funny stories about Brownies in general, and so I
+may as well tell you the adventures of this particular Brownie, who
+belonged to a family there; which family he had followed from house to
+house, most faithfully, for years and years.
+
+A good many people had heard him--or supposed they had--when there were
+extraordinary noises about the house; noises which must have come from a
+mouse or a rat--or a Brownie. But nobody had ever seen him except the
+children--the three little boys and three little girls--who declared he
+often came to play with them when they were alone, and was the nicest
+companion in the world, though he was such an old man--hundreds of years
+old! He was full of fun and mischief, and up to all sorts of tricks, but
+he never did any body any harm unless they deserved it.
+
+Brownie was supposed to live under one particular coal, in the darkest
+corner of the cellar, which was never allowed to be disturbed. Why he
+had chosen it nobody knew, and how he lived there, nobody knew either,
+nor what he lived upon. Except that, ever since the family could
+remember, there had always been a bowl of milk put behind the
+coal-cellar door for the Brownie's supper. Perhaps he drank it--perhaps
+he didn't: anyhow, the bowl was always found empty next morning. The old
+Cook, who had lived all her life in the family, had never forgotten to
+give Brownie his supper; but at last she died, and a young cook came in
+her stead, who was very apt to forget every thing. She was also both
+careless and lazy, and disliked taking the trouble to put a bowl of milk
+in the same place every night for Mr. Nobody. "She didn't believe in
+Brownies," she said; "she had never seen one, and seeing's believing."
+So she laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave, and put
+the bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying
+much about it.
+
+But once, when Brownie woke up, at his usual hour for rising--ten
+o'clock at night, and looked round in search of his supper--which was,
+in fact, his breakfast--he found nothing there. At first he could not
+imagine such neglect, and went smelling and smelling about for his bowl
+of milk--it was not always placed in the same corner now--but in vain.
+
+"This will never do," said he; and being extremely hungry, began running
+about the coal-cellar to see what he could find. His eyes were as useful
+in the dark as in the light--like a pussy-cat's; but there was nothing
+to be seen--not even a potato paring, or a dry crust, or a well-gnawed
+bone, such as Tiny the terrier sometimes brought into the coal-cellar
+and left on the floor--nothing, in short, but heaps of coals and
+coal-dust; and even a Brownie cannot eat that, you know.
+
+"Can't stand this; quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening his
+belt to make his poor little inside feel less empty. He had been asleep
+so long--about a week, I believe, as was his habit when there was
+nothing to do--that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his boots,
+or any thing. 'What's to be done? Since nobody brings my supper, I must
+go and fetch it.'
+
+He spoke quickly, for he always thought quickly, and made up his mind in
+a minute. To be sure it was a very little mind, like his little body;
+but he did the best he could with it, and was not a bad sort of old
+fellow, after all. In the house he had never done any harm, and often
+some good, for he frightened away all the rats, mice, and black-beetles.
+Not the crickets--he liked them, as the old Cook had done: she said
+they were such cheerful creatures, and always brought luck to the house.
+But the young Cook could not bear them, and used to pour boiling water
+down their holes, and set basins of beer for them with little wooden
+bridges up to the brim, that they might walk up, tumble in, and be
+drowned.
+
+So there was not even a cricket singing in the silent house when Brownie
+put his head out of his coal-cellar door, which, to his surprise, he
+found open. Old Cook used to lock it every night, but the young Cook had
+left that key, and the kitchen and pantry keys too, all dangling in the
+lock, so that any thief might have got in, and wandered all over the
+house without being found out.
+
+"Hurrah, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the air, and
+bounding right through the scullery into the kitchen. It was quite
+empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out--just for its own
+amusement, and the remains of a capital supper spread on the
+table--enough for half a dozen people being left still.
+
+Would you like to know what there was? Devonshire cream, of course; and
+part of a large dish of junket, which is something like curds and whey.
+Lots of bread-and-butter and cheese, and half an apple-pudding. Also a
+great jug of cider and another of milk, and several half-full glasses,
+and no end of dirty plates, knives, and forks. All were scattered about
+the table in the most untidy fashion, just as the servants had risen
+from their supper, without thinking to put any thing away.
+
+Brownie screwed up his little old face and turned up his button of a
+nose, and gave a long whistle. You might not believe it, seeing he lived
+in a coal-cellar; but really he liked tidiness, and always played his
+pranks upon disorderly or slovenly folk.
+
+[Illustration: He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did
+eat!--Page 11]
+
+"Whew!" said he; "here's a chance. What a supper I'll get now!"
+
+And he jumped on to a chair and thence to the table, but so quietly that
+the large black cat with four white paws, called Muff, because she was
+so fat and soft and her fur so long, who sat dozing in front of the
+fire, just opened one eye and went to sleep again. She had tried to get
+her nose into the milk-jug, but it was too small; and the junket-dish
+was too deep for her to reach, except with one paw. She didn't care much
+for bread and cheese and apple-pudding, and was very well fed besides;
+so, after just wandering round the table, she had jumped down from it
+again, and settled herself to sleep on the hearth.
+
+But Brownie had no notion of going to sleep. He wanted his supper, and
+oh! what a supper he did eat! first one thing and then another, and then
+trying every thing all over again. And oh! what a lot he drank--first
+milk and then cider, and then mixed the two together in a way that would
+have disagreed with any body except a Brownie. As it was, he was obliged
+to slacken his belt several times, and at last took it off altogether.
+But he must have had a most extraordinary capacity for eating and
+drinking--since, after he had nearly cleared the table, he was just as
+lively as if he had had no supper at all.
+
+Now his jumping was a little awkward, for there happened to be a clean
+white tablecloth: as this was only Monday, it had had no time to get
+dirty--untidy as the Cook was. And you know Brownie lived in a
+coal-cellar, and his feet were black with running about in coal dust. So
+wherever he trod, he left the impression behind, until at last the whole
+tablecloth was covered with black marks.
+
+Not that he minded this; in fact, he took great pains to make the cloth
+as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, "Ho, ho, ho!" leaped on
+to the hearth, and began teasing the cat; squeaking like a mouse, or
+chirping like a cricket, or buzzing like a fly; and altogether
+disturbing poor Pussy's mind so much, that she went and hid herself in
+the farthest corner, and left him the hearth all to himself, where he
+lay at ease till daybreak.
+
+Then, hearing a slight noise overhead, which might be the servants
+getting up, he jumped on to the table again--gobbled up the few
+remaining crumbs for his breakfast, and scampered off to his
+coal-cellar; where he hid himself under his big coal, and fell asleep
+for the day.
+
+Well, the Cook came downstairs rather earlier than usual, for she
+remembered she had to clear off the remains of supper; but lo and
+behold, there was nothing left to clear. Every bit of food was eaten
+up--the cheese looked as if a dozen mice had been nibbling at it, and
+nibbled it down to the very rind; the milk and cider were all drunk--and
+mice don't care for milk and cider, you know. As for the apple-pudding,
+it had vanished altogether; and the dish was licked as clean as if
+Boxer, the yard-dog, had been at it in his hungriest mood.
+
+"And my white table-cloth--oh, my clean white table-cloth! What can have
+been done to it?" cried she, in amazement. For it was all over little
+black footmarks, just the size of a baby's foot--only babies don't wear
+shoes with nails in them, and don't run about and climb on kitchen
+tables after all the family have gone to bed.
+
+Cook was a little frightened; but her fright changed to anger when she
+saw the large black cat stretched comfortably on the hearth. Poor Muff
+had crept there for a little snooze after Brownie went away.
+
+"You nasty cat! I see it all now; it's you that have eaten up all the
+supper; it's you that have been on my clean table-cloth with your dirty
+paws."
+
+[Illustration: Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away]
+
+They were white paws, and as clean as possible; but the Cook never
+thought of that, any more than she did of the fact that cats don't
+usually drink cider or eat apple-pudding.
+
+"I'll teach you to come stealing food in this way; take that--and
+that--and that!"
+
+Cook got hold of a broom and beat poor Pussy till the creature ran
+mewing away. She couldn't speak, you know--unfortunate cat! and tell
+people that it was Brownie who had done it all.
+
+Next night Cook thought she would make all safe and sure; so, instead of
+letting the cat sleep by the fire, she shut her up in the chilly
+coal-cellar, locked the door, put the key in her pocket, and went off to
+bed--leaving the supper as before.
+
+When Brownie woke up and looked out of his hole, there was, as usual, no
+supper for him, and the cellar was close shut. He peered about, to try
+and find some cranny under the door to creep out at, but there was none.
+And he felt so hungry that he could almost have eaten the cat, who kept
+walking to and fro in a melancholy manner--only she was alive, and he
+couldn't well eat her alive: besides, he knew she was old, and had an
+idea she might be tough; so he merely said, politely, "How do you do,
+Mrs. Pussy?" to which she answered nothing--of course.
+
+Something must be done, and luckily Brownies can do things which nobody
+else can do. So he thought he would change himself into a mouse, and
+gnaw a hole through the door. But then he suddenly remembered the cat,
+who, though he had decided not to eat her, might take this opportunity
+of eating him. So he thought it advisable to wait till she was fast
+asleep, which did not happen for a good while. At length, quite tired
+with walking about, Pussy turned round on her tail six times, curled
+down in a corner, and fell fast asleep.
+
+Immediately Brownie changed himself into the smallest mouse possible;
+and, taking care not to make the least noise, gnawed a hole in the door,
+and squeezed himself through, immediately turning into his proper shape
+again, for fear of accidents.
+
+The kitchen fire was at its last glimmer; but it showed a better supper
+than even last night, for the Cook had had friends with her--a brother
+and two cousins--and they had been exceedingly merry. The food they had
+left behind was enough for three Brownies at least, but this one managed
+to eat it all up. Only once, in trying to cut a great slice of beef, he
+let the carving-knife and fork fall with such a clatter, that Tiny the
+terrier, who was tied up at the foot of the stairs, began to bark
+furiously. However, he brought her her puppy, which had been left in a
+basket in a corner of the kitchen, and so succeeded in quieting her.
+
+After that he enjoyed himself amazingly, and made more marks than ever
+on the white table-cloth; for he began jumping about like a pea on a
+trencher, in order to make his particularly large supper agree with him.
+
+Then, in the absence of the cat, he teased the puppy for an hour or two,
+till hearing the clock strike five, he thought it as well to turn into a
+mouse again, and creep back cautiously into his cellar. He was only just
+in time, for Muff opened one eye, and was just going to pounce upon him,
+when he changed himself back into a Brownie. She was so startled that
+she bounded away, her tail growing into twice its natural size, and her
+eyes gleaming like round green globes. But Brownie only said, "Ha, ha,
+ho!" and walked deliberately into his hole.
+
+When Cook came downstairs and saw that the same thing had happened
+again--that the supper was all eaten, and the table-cloth blacker than
+ever with the extraordinary footmarks, she was greatly puzzled. Who
+could have done it all? Not the cat, who came mewing out of the
+coal-cellar the minute she unlocked the door. Possibly a rat--but then
+would a rat have come within reach of Tiny?
+
+"It must have been Tiny herself, or her puppy," which just came rolling
+out of its basket over Cook's feet. "You little wretch! You and your
+mother are the greatest nuisance imaginable. I'll punish you!"
+
+And, quite forgetting that Tiny had been safely tied up all night, and
+that her poor little puppy was so fat and helpless it could scarcely
+stand on its legs, to say nothing of jumping on chairs and tables, she
+gave them both such a thrashing that they ran howling together out of
+the kitchen door, where the kind little kitchen-maid took them up in her
+arms.
+
+"You ought to have beaten the Brownie, if you could catch him," said
+she, in a whisper. "He will do it again and again, you'll see, for he
+can't bear an untidy kitchen. You'd better do as poor old Cook did, and
+clear the supper things away, and put the odds and ends safe in the
+larder; also," she added, mysteriously, "if I were you, I'd put a bowl
+of milk behind the coal-cellar door."
+
+"Nonsense!" answered the young Cook, and flounced away. But afterward
+she thought better of it, and did as she was advised, grumbling all the
+time, but doing it.
+
+Next morning the milk was gone! Perhaps Brownie had drunk it up, anyhow
+nobody could say that he hadn't. As for the supper, Cook having safely
+laid it on the shelves of the larder, nobody touched it. And the
+table-cloth, which was wrapped up tidily and put in the dresser drawer,
+came out as clean as ever, with not a single black footmark upon it. No
+mischief being done, the cat and the dog both escaped beating, and
+Brownie played no more tricks with any body--till the next time.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE SECOND
+
+BROWNIE AND THE CHERRY-TREE
+
+
+THE "next time" was quick in coming, which was not wonderful,
+considering there was a Brownie in the house. Otherwise the house was
+like most other houses, and the family like most other families. The
+children also: they were sometimes good, sometimes naughty, like other
+children; but, on the whole, they deserved to have the pleasure of a
+Brownie to play with them, as they declared he did--many and many a
+time.
+
+A favorite play-place was the orchard, where grew the biggest
+cherry-tree you ever saw. They called it their "castle," because it rose
+up ten feet from the ground in one thick stem, and then branched out
+into a circle of boughs, with a flat place in the middle, where two or
+three children could sit at once. There they often did sit, turn by
+turn, or one at a time--sometimes with a book, reading; and the biggest
+boy made a sort of rope-ladder by which they could climb up and
+down--which they did all winter, and enjoyed their "castle" very much.
+
+But one day in spring they found their ladder cut away! The Gardener
+had done it, saying it injured the tree, which was just coming into
+blossom. Now this Gardener was a rather gruff man, with a growling
+voice. He did not mean to be unkind, but he disliked children; he said
+they bothered him. But when they complained to their mother about the
+ladder, she agreed with Gardener that the tree must not be injured, as
+it bore the biggest cherries in all the neighborhood--so big that the
+old saying of "taking two bites at a cherry," came really true.
+
+"Wait till the cherries are ripe," said she; and so the little people
+waited, and watched it through its leafing and blossoming--such sheets
+of blossom, white as snow!--till the fruit began to show, and grew large
+and red on every bough.
+
+At last one morning the mother said, "Children, should you like to help
+gather the cherries to-day?"
+
+"Hurrah!" they cried, "and not a day too soon; for we saw a flock of
+starlings in the next field--and if we don't clear the tree, they will."
+
+"Very well; clear it, then. Only mind and fill my basket quite full, for
+preserving. What is over you may eat, if you like."
+
+"Thank you, thank you!" and the children were eager to be off; but the
+mother stopped them till she could get the Gardener and his ladder.
+
+"For it is he must climb the tree, not you; and you must do exactly as
+he tells you; and he will stop with you all the time and see that you
+don't come to harm."
+
+This was no slight cloud on the children's happiness, and they begged
+hard to go alone.
+
+"Please, might we? We will be so good!"
+
+[Illustration: When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the
+trunk of the cherry-tree]
+
+The mother shook her head. All the goodness in the world would not help
+them if they tumbled off the tree, or ate themselves sick with cherries.
+"You would not be safe, and I should be so unhappy!"
+
+To make mother "unhappy" was the worst rebuke possible to these
+children; so they choked down their disappointment, and followed the
+Gardener as he walked on ahead, carrying his ladder on his shoulder. He
+looked very cross, and as if he did not like the children's company at
+all.
+
+They were pretty good, on the whole, though they chattered a good deal;
+but Gardener said not a word to them all the way to the orchard. When
+they reached it, he just told them to "keep out of his way and not
+worrit him," which they politely promised, saying among themselves that
+they should not enjoy their cherry-gathering at all. But children who
+make the best of things, and try to be as good as they can, sometimes
+have fun unawares.
+
+When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the
+cherry-tree, there was suddenly heard the barking of a dog, and a very
+fierce dog, too. First it seemed close beside them, then in the
+flower-garden, then in the fowl-yard.
+
+Gardener dropped the ladder out of his hands. "It's that Boxer! He has
+got loose again! He will be running after my chickens, and dragging his
+broken chain all over my borders. And he is so fierce, and so delighted
+to get free. He'll bite any body who ties him up, except me."
+
+"Hadn't you better you go and see after him?"
+
+Gardener thought it was the eldest boy who spoke, and turned round
+angrily; but the little fellow had never opened his lips.
+
+Here there was heard a still louder bark, and from a quite different
+part of the garden.
+
+"There he is--I'm sure of it! jumping over my bedding-out plants, and
+breaking my cucumber frames. Abominable beast!--just let me catch him!"
+Off Gardener darted in a violent passion, throwing the ladder down upon
+the grass, and forgetting all about the cherries and the children.
+
+The instant he was gone, a shrill laugh, loud and merry, was heard close
+by, and a little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.
+
+"How d'ye do?--Boxer was me. Didn't I bark well? Now I'm come to play
+with you."
+
+The children clapped their hands; for they knew they were going to have
+some fun if Brownie was there--he was the best little playfellow in the
+world. And then they had him all to themselves. Nobody ever saw him
+except the children.
+
+"Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's, half
+like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?"
+
+[Illustration: A little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.--Page 20]
+
+They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the branches
+sprang, and besides, their mother had said they were not to climb. And
+the ladder lay flat upon the grass--far too heavy for little hands to
+move.
+
+"What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to lift
+the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you."
+
+Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the ladder
+than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite safely
+against the tree.
+
+"But we must not climb--mother told us not," said the boys, ruefully.
+"Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick up the cherries."
+
+"Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself."
+
+Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie darted up the ladder like
+a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.
+
+The children looked dismayed for a minute, till they saw a merry brown
+face peeping out from the green leaves at the very top of the tree.
+
+"Biggest fruit always grows highest," cried the Brownie. "Stand in a
+row, all you children. Little boys, hold out your caps: little girls,
+make a bag of your pinafores. Open your mouths and shut your eyes, and
+see what the queen will send you."
+
+They laughed and did as they were told; whereupon they were drowned in a
+shower of cherries--cherries falling like hailstones, hitting them on
+their heads, their cheeks, their noses--filling their caps and
+pinafores, and then rolling and tumbling on to the grass, till it was
+strewn thick as leaves in autumn with the rosy fruit.
+
+What a glorious scramble they had--these three little boys and three
+little girls! How they laughed and jumped and knocked their heads
+together in picking up the cherries, yet never quarreled--for there were
+such heaps, it would have been ridiculous to squabble over them; and
+besides, whenever they began to quarrel, Brownie always ran away. Now he
+was the merriest of the lot; ran up and down the tree like a cat, helped
+to pick up the cherries, and was first-rate at filling the large
+market-basket.
+
+"We were to eat as many as we liked, only we must first fill the
+basket," conscientiously said the eldest girl; upon which they all set
+to at once, and filled it to the brim.
+
+"Now we'll have a dinner-party," cried the Brownie; and squatted down
+like a Turk, crossed his queer little legs, and sticking his elbows upon
+his knees, in a way that nobody but a Brownie could manage. "Sit in a
+ring! sit in a ring! and we'll see who can eat fastest."
+
+The children obeyed. How many cherries they devoured, and how fast they
+did it, passes my capacity of telling. I only hope they were not ill
+next day, and that all the cherry-stones they swallowed by mistake did
+not disagree with them. But perhaps nothing does disagree with one when
+one dines with a Brownie. They ate so much, laughing in equal
+proportion, that they had quite forgotten the Gardener--when, all of a
+sudden, they heard him clicking angrily the orchard gate, and talking to
+himself as he walked through.
+
+"That nasty dog! It wasn't Boxer, after all. A nice joke! to find him
+quietly asleep in his kennel after having hunted him, as I thought, from
+one end of the garden to the other! Now for the cherries and the
+children--bless us, where are the children? And the cherries? Why, the
+tree is as bare as a blackthorn in February! The starlings have been at
+it, after all. Oh dear! oh dear!"
+
+"Oh dear! oh dear!" echoed a voice from behind the tree, followed by
+shouts of mocking laughter. Not from the children--they sat as demure as
+possible, all in a ring, with their hands before them, and in the centre
+the huge basket of cherries, piled as full as it could possibly hold.
+But the Brownie had disappeared.
+
+"You naughty brats, I'll have you punished!" cried the Gardener, furious
+at the laughter, for he never laughed himself. But as there was nothing
+wrong; the cherries being gathered--a very large crop--and the ladder
+found safe in its place--it was difficult to say what had been the harm
+done and who had done it.
+
+So he went growling back to the house, carrying the cherries to the
+mistress, who coaxed him into good temper again, as she sometimes did;
+bidding also the children to behave well to him, since he was an old
+man, and not really bad--only cross. As for the little folks, she had
+not the slightest intention of punishing them; and, as for Brownie, it
+was impossible to catch him. So nobody was punished at all.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE THIRD
+
+BROWNIE IN THE FARMYARD
+
+
+WHICH was a place where he did not often go, for he preferred being warm
+and snug in the house. But when he felt himself ill-used, he would
+wander anywhere, in order to play tricks upon those whom he thought had
+done him harm; for, being only a Brownie, and not a man, he did not
+understand that the best way to revenge yourself upon your enemies is
+either to let them alone or to pay them back good for evil--it
+disappoints them so much, and makes them so exceedingly ashamed of
+themselves.
+
+One day Brownie overheard the Gardener advising the Cook to put sour
+milk into his bowl at night, instead of sweet.
+
+"He'd never find out the difference, no more than the pigs do. Indeed,
+it's my belief that a pig, or dog, or something, empties the bowl, and
+not a Brownie, at all. It's just clean waste--that's what I say."
+
+"Then you'd better hold your tongue, and mind your own business,"
+returned the Cook, who was of a sharp temper, and would not stand being
+meddled with. She began to abuse the Gardener soundly; but his wife, who
+was standing by, took his part, as she always did when any third party
+scolded him. So they all squabbled together, till Brownie, hid under his
+coal, put his little hands over his little ears.
+
+"Dear me, what a noise these mortals do make when they quarrel! They
+quite deafen me. I must teach them better manners."
+
+But when the Cook slammed the door to, and left Gardener and his wife
+alone, they too began to dispute between themselves.
+
+"You make such a fuss over your nasty pigs, and get all the scraps for
+them," said the wife. "It's of much more importance that I should have
+everything Cook can spare for my chickens. Never were such fine chickens
+as my last brood!"
+
+"I thought they were ducklings."
+
+"How you catch me up, you rude old man! They are ducklings, and
+beauties, too--even though they have never seen water. Where's the pond
+you promised to make for me, I wonder?"
+
+"Rubbish, woman! If my cows do without a pond, your ducklings may. And
+why will you be so silly as to rear ducklings at all? Fine fat chickens
+are a deal better. You'll find out your mistake some day."
+
+"And so will you when that old Alderney runs dry. You'll wish you had
+taken my advice, and fattened and sold her."
+
+"Alderney cows won't sell for fattening, and women's advice is never
+worth twopence. Yours isn't worth even a half-penny. What are you
+laughing at?"
+
+"I wasn't laughing," said the wife, angrily; and, in truth, it was not
+she, but little Brownie, running under the barrow which the Gardener was
+wheeling along, and very much amused that people should be so silly as
+to squabble about nothing.
+
+It was still early morning; for, whatever this old couple's faults might
+be, laziness was not one of them. The wife rose with the dawn to feed
+her poultry and collect her eggs; the husband also got through as much
+work by breakfast-time as many an idle man does by noon. But Brownie had
+been beforehand with them this day.
+
+When all the fowls came running to be fed, the big Brahma hen who had
+watched the ducklings was seen wandering forlornly about, and clucking
+mournfully for her young brood--she could not find them anywhere. Had
+she been able to speak, she might have told how a large white Aylesbury
+duck had waddled into the farmyard, and waddled out again, coaxing them
+after her, no doubt in search of a pond. But missing they were, most
+certainly.
+
+"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" mourned the miserable hen-mother--and, "Oh, my
+ducklings, my ducklings!" cried the Gardener's wife--"Who can have
+carried off my beautiful ducklings?"
+
+"Rats, maybe," said the Gardener, cruelly, as he walked away. And as he
+went he heard the squeak of a rat below his wheelbarrow. But he could
+not catch it, any more than his wife could catch the Aylesbury duck. Of
+course not. Both were--the Brownie!
+
+Just at this moment the six little people came running into the
+farmyard. When they had been particularly good, they were sometimes
+allowed to go with Gardener a-milking, each carrying his or her own mug
+for a drink of milk, warm from the cow. They scampered after him--a
+noisy tribe, begging to be taken down to the field, and holding out
+their six mugs entreatingly.
+
+"What! six cupfuls of milk, when I haven't a drop to spare, and Cook is
+always wanting more? Ridiculous nonsense! Get along with you; you may
+come to the field--I can't hinder that--but you'll get no milk to-day.
+Take your mugs back again to the kitchen."
+
+[Illustration: A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly.]
+
+The poor little folks made the best of a bad business, and obeyed; then
+followed Gardener down to the field, rather dolefully. But it was such a
+beautiful morning that they soon recovered their spirits. The grass
+shone with dew, like a sheet of diamonds, the clover smelled so sweet,
+and two skylarks were singing at one another high up in the sky. Several
+rabbits darted past, to their great amusement, especially one very large
+rabbit--brown, not gray--which dodged them in and out, and once nearly
+threw Gardener down, pail and all, by running across his feet; which set
+them all laughing, till they came where Dolly, the cow, lay chewing the
+cud under a large oak-tree.
+
+It was great fun to stir her up, as usual, and lie down, one after the
+other, in the place where she had lain all night long, making the grass
+flat, and warm, and perfumy with her sweet breath. She let them do it,
+and then stood meekly by; for Dolly was the gentlest cow in the world.
+
+But this morning something strange seemed to possess her. She altogether
+refused to be milked--kicked, plunged, tossed over the pail, which was
+luckily empty.
+
+"Bless the cow! what's wrong with her? It's surely you children's fault.
+Stand off, the whole lot of you. Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!"
+
+But Dolly was any thing but good. She stood switching her tail, and
+looking as savage as so mild an animal possibly could look.
+
+"It's all your doing, you naughty children! You have been playing her
+some trick, I know," cried the Gardener, in great wrath.
+
+They assured him they had done nothing, and indeed, they looked as quiet
+as mice and as innocent as lambs. At length the biggest boy pointed out
+a large wasp which had settled in Dolly's ear.
+
+"That accounts for everything," said the Gardener.
+
+But it did not mend everything; for when he tried to drive it away it
+kept coming back and back again, and buzzing round his own head and the
+cow's with a voice that the children thought was less like a buzz of a
+wasp than the sound of a person laughing. At length it frightened Dolly
+to such an extent that, with one wild bound she darted right away, and
+galloped off to the farther end of the field.
+
+"I'll get a rope and tie her legs together," cried the Gardener,
+fiercely. "She shall repent giving me all this trouble--that she shall!"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed somebody. The Gardener thought it was the
+children, and gave one of them an angry cuff as he walked away. But they
+knew it was somebody else, and were not at all surprised when, the
+minute his back was turned, Dolly came walking quietly back, led by a
+little wee brown man who scarcely reached up to her knees. Yet she let
+him guide her, which he did as gently as possible, though the string he
+held her by was no thicker than a spider web, floating from one of her
+horns.
+
+"Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!" cried Brownie, mimicking the Gardener's voice.
+"Now we'll see what we can do. I want my breakfast badly--don't you,
+little folks?"
+
+Of course they did, for the morning air made them very hungry.
+
+"Very well--wait a bit, though. Old people should be served first, you
+know. Besides, I want to go to bed."
+
+"Go to bed in the daylight!" The children all laughed, and then looked
+quite shy and sorry, lest they might have seemed rude to the little
+Brownie. But he--he liked fun; and never took offence when none was
+meant.
+
+He placed himself on the milking-stool, which was so high that his
+little legs were dangling half-way down, and milked and milked--Dolly
+standing as still as possible--till he had filled the whole pail. Most
+astonishing cow! she gave as much as two cows; and such delicious milk
+as it was--all frothing and yellow--richer than even Dolly's milk had
+ever been before. The children's mouths watered for it, but not a word
+said they--even when, instead of giving it to them, Brownie put his own
+mouth to the pail, and drank and drank, till it seemed as if he were
+never going to stop. But it was decidedly a relief to them when he
+popped his head up again, and lo! the pail was as full as ever!
+
+"Now, little ones, now's your turn. Where are your mugs?"
+
+All answered mournfully, "We've got none. Gardener made us take them
+back again."
+
+"Never mind--all right. Gather me half a dozen of the biggest buttercups
+you can find."
+
+"What nonsense!" thought the children; but they did it. Brownie laid the
+flowers in a row upon the eldest girl's lap--blew upon them one by one,
+and each turned into the most beautiful golden cup that ever was seen!
+
+"Now, then, every one take his own mug, and I'll fill it."
+
+He milked away--each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled
+again. And all the while Dolly stood as quiet as possible--looking
+benignly round, as if she would be happy to supply milk to the whole
+parish, if the Brownie desired it.
+
+"Soh, Dolly! Thank you, Dolly!" said he, again, mimicking the Gardener's
+voice, half growling, half coaxing. And while he spoke, the real voice
+was heard behind the hedge. There was a sound as of a great wasp flying
+away, which made Dolly prick up her ears, and look as if the old
+savageness was coming back upon her. The children snatched up their
+mugs, but there was no need, they had all turned into buttercups again.
+
+Gardener jumped over the stile, as cross as two sticks, with an old rope
+in his hand.
+
+"Oh, what a bother I've had! Breakfast ready, and no milk yet--and such
+a row as they are making over those lost ducklings. Stand back, you
+children, and don't hinder me a minute. No use begging--not a drop of
+milk shall you get. Hillo, Dolly? Quiet old girl!"
+
+Quiet enough she was this time--but you might as well have milked a
+plaster cow in a London milking-shop. Not one ringing drop resounded
+against the empty pail; for, when they peeped in, the children saw, to
+their amazement, that it was empty.
+
+[Illustration: Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled
+again.--Page 32]
+
+"The creature's bewitched!" cried the Gardener, in a great fury. "Or
+else somebody has milked her dry already. Have you done it? or you?" he
+asked each of the children.
+
+They might have said No--which was the literal truth--but then it would
+not have been the whole truth, for they knew quite well that Dolly had
+been milked, and also who had done it. And their mother had always
+taught them that to make a person believe a lie is nearly as bad as
+telling him one. Yet still they did not like to betray the kind little
+Brownie. Greatly puzzled, they hung their heads and said nothing.
+
+"Look in your pail again," cried a voice from the other side of Dolly.
+And there at the bottom was just the usual quantity of milk--no more and
+no less.
+
+The Gardener was very much astonished. "It must be the Brownie!"
+muttered he, in a frightened tone; and, taking off his hat, "Thank you,
+sir," said he to Mr. Nobody--at which the children all burst out
+laughing. But they kept their own counsel, and he was afraid to ask them
+any more questions.
+
+By-and-by his fright wore off a little. "I only hope the milk is good
+milk, and will poison nobody," said he, sulkily. "However, that's not my
+affair. You children had better tell your mother all about it. I left
+her in the farmyard in a pretty state of mind about her ducklings."
+
+Perhaps Brownie heard this, and was sorry, for he liked the children's
+mother, who had always been kind to him. Besides, he never did any body
+harm who did not deserve it; and though, being a Brownie, he could
+hardly be said to have a conscience, he had something which stood in the
+place of one--a liking to see people happy rather than miserable.
+
+So, instead of going to bed under his big coal for the day, when, after
+breakfast, the children and their mother came out to look at a new brood
+of chickens, he crept after them and hid behind the hencoop where the
+old mother-hen was put, with her young ones round her.
+
+There had been great difficulty in getting her in there, for she was a
+hen who hatched her brood on independent principles. Instead of sitting
+upon the nice nest that the Gardener made for her, she had twice gone
+into a little wood close by and made a nest for herself, which nobody
+could ever find; and where she hatched in secret, coming every second
+day to be fed, and then vanishing again, till at last she re-appeared in
+triumph, with her chickens running after her. The first brood there had
+been twelve, but of this there were fourteen--all from her own eggs, of
+course, and she was uncommonly proud of them. So was the Gardener, so
+was the mistress--who liked all young things. Such a picture as they
+were! fourteen soft, yellow, fluffy things, running about after their
+mother. It had been a most troublesome business to catch--first her, and
+then them, to put them under the coop. The old hen resisted, and pecked
+furiously at Gardener's legs, and the chickens ran about in frantic
+terror, chirping wildly in answer to her clucking.
+
+At last, however, the little family was safe in shelter, and the
+chickens counted over, to see that none had been lost in the scuffle.
+How funny they were! looking so innocent and yet so wise, as chickens
+do--peering out at the world from under their mother's wing, or hopping
+over her back, or snuggled all together under her breast, so that
+nothing was seen of them but a mass of yellow legs, like a great
+centiped.
+
+"How happy the old hen is," said the children's mother, looking on, and
+then looking compassionately at that other forlorn old hen, who had
+hatched the ducklings, and kept wandering about the farmyard, clucking
+miserably, "Those poor ducklings, what can have become of them? If rats
+had killed them, we should have found feathers or something; and weasels
+would have sucked their brains and left them. They must have been
+stolen, or wandered away, and died of cold and hunger--my poor
+ducklings!"
+
+The mistress sighed, for she could not bear any living thing to suffer.
+And the children nearly cried at the thought of what might be happening
+to their pretty ducklings. That very minute a little wee brown face
+peered through a hole in the hencoop, making the old mother-hen fly
+furiously at it--as she did at the slightest shadow of an enemy to her
+little ones. However, no harm happened--only a guinea-fowl suddenly ran
+across the farmyard, screaming in its usual harsh voice. But it was not
+the usual sort of guinea-fowl, being larger and handsomer than any of
+theirs.
+
+"Oh, what a beauty of a creature! how did it ever come into our
+farmyard," cried the delighted children; and started off after it, to
+catch it if possible.
+
+But they ran, and they ran--through the gate and out into the lane; and
+the guinea-fowl still ran on before them, until, turning round a corner,
+they lost sight of it, and immediately saw something else, equally
+curious. Sitting on the top of a big thistle--so big that he must have
+had to climb it just like a tree--was the Brownie. His legs were
+crossed, and his arms too, his little brown cap was stuck knowingly on
+one side, and he was laughing heartily.
+
+"How do you do? Here I am again. I thought I wouldn't go to bed after
+all. Shall I help you to find the ducklings? Very well! come along."
+
+They crossed the field, Brownie running beside them, and as fast as they
+could, though he looked such an old man; and sometimes turning over on
+legs and arms like a Catherine wheel--which they tried to imitate, but
+generally failed, and only bruised their fingers and noses.
+
+He lured them on and on till they came to the wood, and to a green path
+in it, which well as they knew the neighborhood, none of the children
+had ever seen before. It led to a most beautiful pond, as clear as
+crystal and as blue as the sky. Large trees grew round it, dipping their
+branches in the water, as if they were looking at themselves in a glass.
+And all about their roots were quantities of primroses--the biggest
+primroses the little girls had ever seen. Down they dropped on their fat
+knees, squashing more primroses than they gathered, though they tried to
+gather them all; and the smallest child even began to cry because her
+hands were so full that the flowers dropped through her fingers. But the
+boys, older and more practical, rather despised primroses.
+
+"I thought we had come to look for ducklings," said the eldest. "Mother
+is fretting dreadfully about her ducklings. Where can they be?"
+
+"Shut your eyes, and you'll see," said the Brownie, at which they all
+laughed, but did it; and when they opened their eyes again, what should
+they behold but a whole fleet of ducklings sailing out from the roots of
+an old willow-tree, one after the other, looking as fat and content as
+possible, and swimming as naturally as if they had lived on a pond--and
+this particularly pond, all their days.
+
+"Count them," said the Brownie, "the whole eight--quite correct. And
+then try and catch them--if you can."
+
+Easier said than done. The boys set to work with great
+satisfaction--boys do so enjoy hunting something. They coaxed them--they
+shouted at them--they threw little sticks at them; but as soon as they
+wanted them to go one way the fleet of ducklings immediately turned
+round and sailed another way, doing it so deliberately and majestically,
+that the children could not help laughing. As for little Brownie, he sat
+on a branch of the willow-tree, with his legs dangling down to the
+surface of the pond, kicking at the water-spiders, and grinning with all
+his might. At length, quite tired out, in spite of their fun, the
+children begged for his help, and he took compassion on them.
+
+"Turn round three times and see what you can find," shouted he.
+
+Immediately each little boy found in his arms, and each little girl in
+her pinafore, a fine fat duckling. And there being eight of them, the
+two elder children had each a couple. They were rather cold and damp,
+and slightly uncomfortable to cuddle, ducks not being used to cuddling.
+Poor things! they struggled hard to get away. But the children hugged
+them tight, and ran as fast as their legs could carry them through the
+wood, forgetting, in their joy, even to say "Thank you" to the little
+Brownie.
+
+When they reached their mother she was as glad as they, for she never
+thought to see her ducklings again; and to have them back alive and
+uninjured, and watch them running to the old hen, who received them with
+an ecstasy of delight, was so exciting, that nobody thought of asking a
+single question as to where they had been found.
+
+When the mother did ask, the children told her about Brownie's taking
+them to the beautiful pond--and what a wonderful pond it was; how green
+the trees were round it; and how large the primroses grew. They never
+tired of talking about it and seeking for it. But the odd thing was
+that, seek as they might, they never could find it again. Many a day did
+the little people roam about one by one, or all together, round the
+wood, often getting themselves sadly draggled with mud and torn with
+brambles--but the beautiful pond they never found again.
+
+Nor did the ducklings, I suppose; for they wandered no more from the
+farmyard, to the old mother-hen's great content. They grew up into fat
+and respectable ducks--five white ones and three gray ones--waddling
+about, very content, though they never saw water, except the tank which
+was placed for them to paddle in. They lived a lazy, peaceful, pleasant
+life for a long time, and were at last killed and eaten with green peas,
+one after the other, to the family's great satisfaction, if not to their
+own.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FOURTH
+
+BROWNIE'S RIDE
+
+
+FOR the little Brownie, though not given to horsemanship, did once take
+a ride, and a very remarkable one it was. Shall I tell you all about it?
+
+The six little children got a present of something they had longed for
+all their lives--a pony. Not a rocking-horse, but a real live pony--a
+Shetland pony, too, which had traveled all the way from the Shetland
+Isles to Devonshire--where every body wondered at it, for such a
+creature had not been seen in the neighborhood for years and years. She
+was no bigger than a donkey, and her coat, instead of being smooth like
+a horse's, was shaggy like a young bear's. She had a long tail, which
+had never been cut, and such a deal of hair in her mane and over her
+eyes that it gave her quite a fierce countenance. In fact, among the
+mild and tame Devonshire beasts, the little Shetland pony looked almost
+like a wild animal. But in reality she was the gentlest creature in the
+world. Before she had been many days with them, she began to know the
+children quite well; followed them about, ate corn out of the bowl they
+held out to her; nay, one day, when the eldest little girl offered her
+bread-and-butter, she stooped her head and took it from the child's
+hand, just like a young lady. Indeed, Jess--that was her name--was
+altogether so lady-like in her behavior, that more than once Cook
+allowed her to walk in at the back-door, when she stood politely warming
+her nose at the kitchen-fire for a minute or two, then turned round and
+as politely walked out again. But she never did any mischief; and was so
+quiet and gentle a creature that she bade fair soon to become as great a
+pet in the household as the dog, the cat, the kittens, the puppies, the
+fowls, the ducks, the cow, the pig, and all the other members of the
+family.
+
+The only one who disliked her, and grumbled at her, was the Gardener.
+This was odd; because, though cross to children, the old man was kind to
+dumb beasts. Even his pig knew his voice and grunted, and held out his
+nose to be scratched; and he always gave each successive pig a name,
+Jack or Dick, and called them by it, and was quite affectionate to them,
+one after the other, until the very day that they were killed. But they
+were English pigs--and the pony was Scotch--and the Devonshire Gardener
+hated every thing Scotch, he said; besides, he was not used to groom's
+work, and the pony required such a deal of grooming on account of her
+long hair. More than once Gardener threatened to clip it short, and turn
+her into a regular English pony, but the children were in such distress
+and mother forbade any such spoiling of Jessie's personal appearance.
+
+At length, to keep things smooth, and to avoid the rough words and even
+blows which poor Jess sometimes got, they sought in the village for a
+boy to look after her, and found a great rough, shock-headed lad named
+Bill, who, for a few shillings a week, consented to come up every
+morning and learn the beginning of a groom's business; hoping to end, as
+his mother said he should, in sitting, like the squire's fat coachman,
+as broad as he was long, on the top of the hammer-cloth of a grand
+carriage, and do nothing all day but drive a pair of horses as stout as
+himself a few miles along the road and back again.
+
+Bill would have liked this very much, he thought, if he could have been
+a coachman all at once, for if there was one thing he disliked, it was
+work. He much preferred to lie in the sun all day and do nothing; and he
+only agreed to come and take care of Jess because she was such a very
+little pony, that looking after her seemed next door to doing nothing.
+But when he tried it, he found his mistake. True, Jess was a very gentle
+beast, so quiet that the old mother-hen with fourteen chicks used,
+instead of roosting with the rest of the fowls, to come regularly into
+the portion of the cow-shed which was partitioned off for a stable, and
+settle under a corner of Jess's manger for the night; and in the morning
+the chicks would be seen running about fearlessly among her feet and
+under her very nose.
+
+But, for all that, she required a little management, for she did not
+like her long hair to be roughly handled; it took a long time to clean
+her; and, though she did not scream out like some silly little children
+when her hair was combed, I am afraid she sometimes kicked and bounced
+about, giving Bill a deal of trouble--all the more trouble, the more
+impatient Bill was.
+
+And then he had to keep within call, for the children wanted their pony
+at all hours. She was their own especial property, and they insisted
+upon learning to ride--even before they got a saddle. Hard work it was
+to stick on Jess's bare back, but by degrees the boys did it, turn and
+turn about, and even gave their sisters a turn too--a very little
+one--just once round the field and back again, which was quite enough,
+they considered, for girls. But they were very kind to their little
+sisters, held them on so that they could not fall, and led Jess
+carefully and quietly: and altogether behaved as elder brothers should.
+
+Nor did they squabble very much among themselves, though sometimes it
+was rather difficult to keep their turns all fair, and remember
+accurately which was which. But they did their best, being, on the
+whole, extremely good children. And they were so happy to have their
+pony, that they would have been ashamed to quarrel over her.
+
+Also, one very curious thing kept them on their good behavior. Whenever
+they did begin to misconduct themselves--to want to ride out of their
+turns, or to domineer over one another, or the boys, joining together,
+tried to domineer over the girls, as I grieve to say boys not seldom
+do--they used to hear in the air, right over their heads, the crack of
+an unseen whip. It was none of theirs, for they had not got a whip; that
+was a felicity which their father had promised when they could all ride
+like a young gentleman and ladies; but there was no mistaking the
+sound--indeed, it always startled Jess so that she set off galloping,
+and could not be caught again for many minutes.
+
+This happened several times, until one of them said, "Perhaps it's the
+Brownie." Whether it was or not, it made them behave better for a good
+while; till one unfortunate day the two eldest began contending which
+should ride foremost and which hindmost on Jess's back, when
+"Crick--crack!" went the whip in the air, frightening the pony so much
+that she kicked up her heels, tossed both the boys over her head, and
+scampered off, followed by a loud "Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+It certainly did not come from the two boys, who had fallen--quite
+safely, but rather unpleasantly--into a large nettle-bed; whence they
+crawled out, rubbing their arms and legs, and looking too much ashamed
+to complain. But they were rather frightened and a little cross, for
+Jess took a skittish fit, and refused to be caught and mounted again,
+till the bell rang for school--when she grew as meek as possible. Too
+late--for the children were obliged to run indoors, and got no more
+rides for the whole day.
+
+Jess was from this incident supposed to be on the same friendly terms
+with Brownie as were the rest of the household. Indeed, when she came,
+the children had taken care to lead her up to the coal-cellar door and
+introduce her properly--for they knew Brownie was very jealous of
+strangers, and often played them tricks. But after that piece of
+civility he would be sure, they thought, to take her under his
+protection. And sometimes, when the little Shetlander was restless and
+pricked up her ears, looking preternaturally wise under those shaggy
+brows of hers, the children used to say to one another, "Perhaps she
+sees the Brownie."
+
+Whether she did or not, Jess sometimes seemed to see a good deal that
+others did not see, and was apparently a favorite with the Brownie, for
+she grew and thrived so much that she soon became the pride and delight
+of the children and of the whole family. You would hardly have known her
+for the rough, shaggy, half-starved little beast that had arrived a few
+weeks before. Her coat was so silky, her limbs so graceful, and her head
+so full of intelligence, that every body admired her. Then even Gardener
+began to admire her too.
+
+"I think I'll get upon her back; it will save me walking down to the
+village," said he, one day. And she actually carried him--though, as his
+feet nearly touched the ground, it looked as if the man were carrying
+the pony, and not the pony the man. And the children laughed so
+immoderately, that he never tried it afterward.
+
+Nor Bill neither, though he had once thought he should like a ride, and
+got astride on Jess; but she quickly ducked her head down, and he
+tumbled over it. Evidently she had her own tastes as to her riders, and
+much preferred little people to big ones.
+
+Pretty Jess! when cantering round the paddock with the young folk she
+really was quite a picture. And when at last she got a saddle--a new,
+beautiful saddle, with a pommel to take off and on, so as to suit both
+boys and girls--how proud they all were, Jess included! That day they
+were allowed to take her into the market-town--Gardener leading her, as
+Bill could not be trusted--and every body, even the blacksmith, who
+hoped by-and-by to have the pleasure of shoeing her, said, what a
+beautiful pony she was!
+
+After this, Gardener treated Jess a great deal better, and showed Bill
+how to groom her, and kept him close at it too, which Bill did not like
+at all. He was a very lazy lad, and whenever he could shirk work he did
+it; and many a time when the children wanted Jess, either there was
+nobody to saddle her, or she had not been properly groomed, or Bill was
+away at his dinner, and they had to wait till he came back and could put
+her in order to be taken out for a ride like a genteel animal--which I
+am afraid neither pony nor children enjoyed half so much as the old ways
+before Bill came.
+
+Still, they were gradually becoming excellent little horsemen and
+horsewomen--even the youngest, only four years old, whom all the rest
+were very tender over, and who was often held on Jess's back and given a
+ride out of her turn because she was a good little girl, and never cried
+for it. And seldomer and seldomer was heard the mysterious sound of the
+whip in the air, which warned them of quarreling--Brownie hated
+quarreling.
+
+[Illustration: Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over
+it.]
+
+In fact, their only trouble was Bill, who never came to his work in
+time, and never did things when wanted, and was ill-natured, lazy, and
+cross to the children, so that they disliked him very much.
+
+"I wish the Brownie would punish you," said one of the boys; "you'd
+behave better then."
+
+"The Brownie!" cried Bill, contemptuously; "if I caught him, I'd kick
+him up in the air like this!"
+
+And he kicked up his cap--his only cap, it was--which, strange to
+relate, flew right up, ever so high, and lodged at the very top of a
+tree which overhung the stable, where it dangled for weeks and weeks,
+during which time poor Bill had to go bareheaded.
+
+He was very much vexed, and revenged himself by vexing the children in
+all sorts of ways. They would have told their mother, and asked her to
+send Bill away, only she had a great many anxieties just then, for their
+old grandmother was very ill, and they did not like to make a fuss about
+any thing that would trouble her.
+
+So Bill staid on, and nobody found out what a bad, ill-natured, lazy boy
+he was.
+
+But one day the mother was sent for suddenly, not knowing when she
+should be able to come home again. She was very sad, and so were the
+children, for they loved their grandmother--and as the carriage drove
+off they all stood crying round the front-door for ever so long.
+
+The servants even cried too--all but Bill.
+
+"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said he. "What a jolly time I
+shall have! I'll do nothing all day long. Those troublesome children
+sha'n't have Jess to ride; I'll keep her in the stable, and then she
+won't get dirty, and I shall have no trouble in cleaning her. Hurrah!
+what fun!"
+
+He put his hands in his pockets, and sat whistling the best part of the
+afternoon.
+
+The children had been so unhappy, that for that day they quite forgot
+Jess; but next morning, after lessons were over, they came begging for a
+ride.
+
+"You can't get one. The stable-door's locked and I've lost the key." (He
+had it in his pocket all the time.)
+
+"How is poor Jess to get her dinner?" cried a thoughtful little girl.
+"Oh, how hungry she will be!"
+
+And the child was quite in distress, as were the two other girls. But
+the boys were more angry than sorry.
+
+"It was very stupid of you, Bill, to lose the key. Look about and find
+it, or else break open the door."
+
+"I won't," said Bill; "I dare say the key will turn up before night, and
+if it doesn't, who cares? You get riding enough and too much. I'll not
+bother myself about it, or Jess either."
+
+And Bill sauntered away. He was a big fellow, and the little lads were
+rather afraid of him. But as he walked, he could not keep his hand out
+of his trowsers-pocket, where the key felt growing heavier and heavier,
+till he expected it every minute to tumble through and come out at his
+boots--convicting him before all the children of having told a lie.
+
+Nobody was in the habit of telling lies to them, so they never suspected
+him, but went innocently searching about for the key--Bill all the while
+clutching it fast. But every time he touched it, he felt his fingers
+pinched, as if there was a cockroach in his pocket--or little
+lobster--or something, anyhow, that had claws. At last, fairly
+frightened, he made an excuse to go into the cow-shed, took the key out
+of his pocket and looked at it, and finally hid it in a corner of the
+manger, among the hay.
+
+As he did so, he heard a most extraordinary laugh, which was certainly
+not from Dolly the cow, and, as he went out of the shed, he felt the
+same sort of pinch at his ankles, which made him so angry that he kept
+striking with his whip in all directions, but hit nobody for nobody was
+there.
+
+But Jess--who, as soon as she heard the children's voices, set up a most
+melancholy whinnying behind the locked stable-door--began to neigh
+energetically. And Boxer barked, and the hens cackled, and the
+guinea-fowls cried "Come back, come back!" in their usual insane
+fashion--indeed, the whole farmyard seemed in such an excited state,
+that the children got frightened lest Gardener should scold them, and
+ran away, leaving Bill master of the field.
+
+What an idle day he had! How he sat on the wall with his hands in his
+pockets, and lounged upon the fence, and sauntered around the garden! At
+length, absolutely tired of doing nothing, he went and talked with the
+Gardener's wife while she was hanging out her clothes. Gardener had gone
+down to the lower field, with all the little folks after him, so that he
+knew nothing of Bill's idling, or it might have come to an end.
+
+By-and-by Bill thought it was time to go home to his supper. "But first
+I'll give Jess her corn," said he, "double quantity, and then I need not
+come back to give her her breakfast so early in the morning. Soh! you
+greedy beast! I'll be at you presently, if you don't stop that noise."
+
+For Jess, at sound of his footsteps, was heard to whinny in the most
+imploring manner, enough to have melted a heart of stone.
+
+"The key--where on earth did I put the key?" cried Bill, whose constant
+habit it was to lay things out of his hand and then forget where he had
+put them, causing himself endless loss of time in searching for them--as
+now. At last he suddenly remembered the corner of the cow's manger,
+where he felt sure he had left it. But the key was not there.
+
+"You can't have eaten it, you silly old cow," said he, striking Dolly on
+the nose as she rubbed herself against him--she was an affectionate
+beast. "Nor you, you stupid old hen!" kicking the mother of the brood,
+who, with her fourteen chicks, being shut out of their usual
+roosting-place--Jess's stable--kept pecking about under Dolly's legs.
+"It can't have gone without hands--of course it can't." But most
+certainly the key was gone.
+
+What in the world should Bill do? Jess kept on making a pitiful
+complaining. No wonder, as she had not tasted food since morning. It
+would have made any kind-hearted person quite sad to hear her, thinking
+how exceedingly hungry the poor pony must be.
+
+Little did Bill care for that, or for anything, except that he should be
+sure to get into trouble as soon as he was found out. When he heard
+Gardener coming into the farmyard, with the children after him, Bill
+bolted over the wall like a flash of lightning, and ran away home,
+leaving poor Jess to her fate.
+
+All the way he seemed to hear at his heels a little dog yelping, and
+then a swarm of gnats buzzing round his head, and altogether was so
+perplexed and bewildered, that when he got into his mother's cottage he
+escaped into bed, and pulled the blanket over his ears to shut out the
+noise of the dog and the gnats, which at last turned into a sound like
+somebody laughing. It was not his mother, she didn't often laugh, poor
+soul!--Bill bothered her quite too much for that, and he knew it.
+Dreadfully frightened, he hid his head under the bedclothes, determined
+to go to sleep and think about nothing till next day.
+
+Meantime Gardener returned, with all the little people trooping after
+him. He had been rather kinder to them than usual this day, because he
+knew their mother had gone away in trouble, and now he let them help him
+to roll the gravel, and fetch up Dolly to be milked, and watch him milk
+her in the cow-shed--where, it being nearly winter, she always spent the
+night now. They were so well amused that they forgot all about their
+disappointment as to the ride, and Jess did not remind them of it by
+her whinnying. For as soon as Bill was gone she grew silent.
+
+At last one little girl, the one who had cried over Jess's being left
+hungry, remembered the poor pony, and, peeping through a crevice in the
+cow-shed, saw her stand contentedly munching at a large bowlful of corn.
+
+"So Bill did find the key. I'm very glad," thought the kind little
+maiden, and to make sure looked again, when--what do you think she
+beheld squatting on the manger? Something brown--either a large brown
+rat, or a small brown man. But she held her tongue, since, being a very
+little girl, people sometimes laughed at her for the strange things she
+saw. She was quite certain she did see them, for all that.
+
+So she and the rest of the children went indoors and to bed. When they
+were fast asleep, something happened. Something so curious, that the
+youngest boy, who, thinking he heard Jess neighing, got up to look out,
+was afraid to tell, lest he too should be laughed at, and went back to
+bed immediately.
+
+In the middle of the night, a little old brown man carrying a lantern,
+or at least having a light in his hand that looked like a lantern--went
+and unlocked Jess's stable, and patted her pretty head. At first she
+started, but soon she grew quiet and pleased, and let him do what he
+chose with her. He began rubbing her down, making the same funny hissing
+with his mouth that Bill did, and all grooms do--I never could find out
+why. But Jess evidently liked it, and stood as good as possible.
+
+[Illustration: Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.--Page
+55]
+
+"Isn't it nice to be clean?" said the wee man, talking to her as if she
+were a human being, or a Brownie. "And I dare say your poor little
+legs ache with standing so long. Shall we have a run together? the moon
+shines bright in the clear, cold night. Dear me! I'm talking poetry."
+
+But Brownies are not poetical fairies, quite commonplace, and up to all
+sorts of work. So, while he talked, he was saddling and bridling Jess,
+she not objecting in the least. Finally, he jumped on her back.
+
+"'Off, said the stranger--off, off, and away!'" sang Brownie mimicking a
+song of the Cook's. People in that house often heard their songs
+repeated in the oddest way, from room to room, everybody fancying it was
+somebody else that did it. But it was only the Brownie. "Now, 'A
+southerly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim a hunting morning!'"
+
+Or night--for it was the middle of the night, though bright as day--and
+Jess galloped and the Brownie sat on her back as merrily as if they had
+gone hunting together all their days.
+
+Such a steeple-chase it was! They cleared the farmyard at a single
+bound, and went flying down the road, and across the ploughed field, and
+into the wood. Then out into the open country, and by-and-by into a
+dark, muddy lane--and oh! how muddy Devonshire lanes can be sometimes!
+
+"Let's go into the water to wash ourselves," said Brownie, and coaxed
+Jess into a deep stream, which she swam as bravely as possible--she had
+not had such a frolic since she left her native Shetland Isles. Up the
+bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping as if she had been a
+water-dog instead of a pony. Brownie, too, shook himself like a rat or a
+beaver, throwing a shower round him in all directions.
+
+"Never mind; at it again, my lass!" and he urged Jess into the water
+once more. Out she came, wetter and brisker than ever, and went back
+home again through the lane, and the wood, and the ploughed field,
+galloping like the wind, and tossing back her ears and mane and tail,
+perfectly frantic with enjoyment.
+
+But when she reached her stable, the plight she was in would have driven
+any respectable groom frantic too. Her sides were white with foam, and
+the mud was sticking all over her like a plaster. As for her beautiful
+long hair, it was all caked together in a tangle, as if all the combs in
+the world would never make it smooth again. Her mane especially was
+plaited into knots, which people in Devonshire call elf-locks, and say,
+when they find them on their horses, that it is because the fairies have
+been riding them.
+
+Certainly, poor Jess had been pretty well ridden that night. When just
+as the dawn began to break, Gardener got up and looked into the
+farmyard, his sharp eye caught sight of the stable-door wide open.
+
+"Well done, Bill," shouted he, "up early at last. One hour before
+breakfast is worth three after."
+
+But no Bill was there; only Jess, trembling and shaking, all in a foam,
+and muddy from head to foot, but looking perfectly cheerful in her mind.
+And out from under her fore legs ran a small creature which Gardener
+mistook for Tiny, only Tiny was gray, and this dog was brown, of course!
+
+I should not like to tell you all that was said to Bill when, an hour
+after breakfast-time, he came skulking up to the farm. In fact, words
+failing, Gardener took a good stick and laid it about Bill's shoulders,
+saying he would either do this, or tell the mistress of him, and how he
+had left the stable-door open all night, and some bad fellow had stolen
+Jess, and galloped her all across the country, till, if she hadn't been
+the cleverest pony in the world, she never could have got back again.
+
+Bill durst not contradict this explanation of the story, especially as
+the key was found hanging up in its proper place by the kitchen door.
+And when he went to fetch it, he heard the most extraordinary sound in
+the coal-cellar close by--like somebody snoring or laughing. Bill took
+to his heels, and did not come back for a whole hour.
+
+But when he did come back, he made himself as busy as possible. He
+cleaned Jess, which was half a day's work at least. Then he took the
+little people a ride, and afterward put his stable in the most beautiful
+order, and altogether was such a changed Bill, that Gardener told him he
+must have left himself at home and brought back somebody else: whether
+or not, the boy certainly improved, so that there was less occasion to
+find fault with him afterward.
+
+Jess lived to be quite an old pony, and carried a great many
+people--little people always, for she herself never grew any bigger. But
+I don't think she ever carried a Brownie again.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FIFTH
+
+BROWNIE ON THE ICE
+
+
+WINTER was a grand time with the six little children especially when
+they had frost and snow. This happened seldom enough for it to be the
+greatest possible treat when it did happen; and it never lasted very
+long, for the winters are warm in Devonshire.
+
+There was a little lake three fields off, which made the most splendid
+sliding-place imaginable. No skaters went near it--it was not large
+enough; and besides, there was nobody to skate, the neighborhood being
+lonely. The lake itself looked the loneliest place imaginable. It was
+not very deep--not deep enough to drown a man--but it had a gravelly
+bottom, and was always very clear. Also, the trees round it grew so
+thick that they sheltered it completely from the wind, so, when it did
+freeze, it generally froze as smooth as a sheet of glass.
+
+"The lake bears!" was such a grand event, and so rare, that when it did
+occur, the news came at once to the farm, and the children carried it as
+quickly to their mother. For she had promised them that, if such a
+thing did happen this year--it did not happen every year--lessons should
+be stopped entirely, and they should all go down to the lake and slide,
+if they liked, all day long.
+
+So one morning, just before Christmas, the eldest boy ran in with a
+countenance of great delight.
+
+"Mother, mother, the lake bears!" (It was rather a compliment to call it
+a lake, it being only about twenty yards across and forty long.) "The
+lake really bears!"
+
+"Who says so?"
+
+"Bill. Bill has been on it for an hour this morning, and has made us two
+such beautiful slides, he says--an upslide and a down-slide. May we go
+directly?"
+
+The mother hesitated.
+
+"You promised, you know," pleaded the children.
+
+"Very well, then; only be careful."
+
+"And may we slide all day long, and never come home for dinner or any
+thing?"
+
+"Yes, if you like. Only Gardener must go with you, and stay all day."
+
+This they did not like at all; nor, when Gardener was spoken to, did he.
+
+"You bothering children! I wish you may all get a good ducking in the
+lake! Serve you right for making me lose a day's work, just to look
+after you little monkeys. I've a great mind to tell your mother I won't
+do it."
+
+But he did not, being fond of his mistress. He was also fond of his
+work, but he had no notion of play. I think the saying of, "All work and
+no play makes Jack a dull boy," must have been applied to him, for
+Gardener, whatever he had been as a boy, was certainly a dull and
+melancholy man. The children used to say that if he and idle Bill could
+have been kneaded into one, and baked in the oven--a very warm
+oven--they would have come out rather a pleasant person.
+
+As it was, Gardener was any thing but a pleasant person; above all, to
+spend a long day with, and on the ice, where one needs all one's
+cheerfulness and good-humor to bear pinched fingers and numbed toes, and
+trips and tumbles, and various uncomfortablenesses.
+
+"He'll growl at us all day long--he'll be a regular spoil-sport!"
+lamented the children. "Oh! mother, mightn't we go alone?"
+
+"No!" said the mother; and her "No" meant no, though she was always very
+kind. They argued the point no more, but started off, rather
+downhearted. But soon they regained their spirits, for it was a bright,
+clear, frosty day--the sun shining, though not enough to melt the ice,
+and just sufficient to lie like a thin sprinkling over the grass, and
+turn the brown branches into white ones. The little people danced along
+to keep themselves warm, carrying between them a basket which held their
+lunch. A very harmless lunch it was--just a large brown loaf and a lump
+of cheese, and a knife to cut it with. Tossing the basket about in their
+fun, they managed to tumble the knife out, and were having a search for
+it in the long grass, when Gardener came up, grumpily enough.
+
+"To think of trusting you children with one of the table-knives and a
+basket! what a fool Cook must be! I'll tell her so; and if they're lost
+she'll blame me: give me the things."
+
+He put the knife angrily in one pocket. "Perhaps it will cut a hole in
+it," said one of the children, in rather a pleased tone than otherwise;
+then he turned the lunch all out on the grass and crammed it in the
+other pocket, hiding the basket behind a hedge.
+
+"I'm sure I'll not be at the trouble of carrying it," said he, when the
+children cried out at this; "and you shan't carry it either, for you'll
+knock it about and spoil it. And as for your lunch getting warm in my
+pocket, why, so much the better this cold day."
+
+It was not a lively joke, and they knew the pocket was very dirty;
+indeed, the little girls had seen him stuff a dead rat into it only the
+day before. They looked ready to cry; but there was no help for them,
+except going back and complaining to their mother, and they did not like
+to do that. Besides, they knew that, though Gardener was cross, he was
+trustworthy, and she would never let them go down to the lake without
+him.
+
+So they followed him, trying to be as good as they could--though it was
+difficult work. One of them proposed pelting him with snowballs, as they
+pelted each other. But at the first--which fell in his neck--he turned
+round so furiously, that they never sent a second, but walked behind him
+as meek as mice.
+
+As they went, they heard little steps pattering after them.
+
+"Perhaps it is the Brownie to play with us--I wish he would," whispered
+the youngest girl to the eldest boy, whose hand she generally held; and
+then the little pattering steps sounded again, traveling through the
+snow, but they saw nobody--so they said nothing.
+
+The children would have liked to go straight to the ice; but Gardener
+insisted on taking them a mile round, to look at an extraordinary animal
+which a farmer there had just got--sent by his brother in Australia. The
+two old men stood gossiping so long that the children wearied
+extremely. Every minute seemed an hour till they got on the ice.
+
+At last one of them pulled Gardener's coat-tails, and whispered that
+they were quite ready to go.
+
+"Then I'm not," and he waited ever so much longer, and got a drink of
+hot cider, which made him quite lively for a little while.
+
+But by the time they reached the lake, he was as cross as ever. He
+struck the ice with his stick, but made no attempt to see if it really
+did bear--though he would not allow the children to go one step upon it
+till he had tried.
+
+"I know it doesn't bear, and you'll just have to go home again--a good
+thing too--saves me from losing a day's work."
+
+"Try, only try; Bill said it bore," implored the boys, and looked
+wistfully at the two beautiful slides--just as Bill said, one up and one
+down--stretching all across the lake; "of course it bears, or Bill could
+not have made these slides."
+
+"Bill's an ass!" said the Gardener, and put his heavy foot cautiously on
+the ice. Just then there was seen jumping across it a creature which
+certainly had never been seen on ice before. It made the most
+extraordinary bounds on its long hind legs, with its little fore legs
+tucked up in front of it as if it wanted to carry a muff; and its long,
+stiff tail sticking out straight behind, to balance it itself with
+apparently. The children at first started with surprise, and then burst
+out laughing, for it was the funniest creature, and had the funniest way
+of getting along, that they had ever seen in their lives.
+
+"It's the kangaroo!" said Gardener, in great excitement. "It has got
+loose--and it's sure to be lost--and what a way Mr. Giles will be in! I
+must go and tell him. Or stop, I'll try and catch it."
+
+But in vain--it darted once or twice across the ice, dodging him, as it
+were; and once coming so close that he nearly caught it by the tail--to
+the children's great delight--then it vanished entirely.
+
+"I must go and tell Mr. Giles directly," said Gardener, and then
+stopped. For he had promised not to leave the children; and it was such
+a wild-goose chase, after an escaped kangaroo. But he might get half a
+crown as a reward, and he was sure of another glass of cider.
+
+"You just stop quiet here, and I'll be back in five minutes," said he to
+the children. "You may go a little way on the ice--I think it's sound
+enough; only mind you don't tumble in, for there'll be nobody to pull
+you out."
+
+"Oh no," said the children, clapping their hands. They did not care for
+tumbling in, and were quite glad there was nobody there to pull them
+out. They hoped Gardener would stop a very long time away--only, as some
+one suggested when he was seen hurrying across the snowy field, he had
+taken away their lunch in his pocket, too.
+
+Off they darted, the three elder boys, with a good run; the biggest of
+the girls followed after them; and soon the whole four were skimming one
+after the other, as fast as a railway train, across the slippery ice.
+And, like a railway train, they had a collision, and all came tumbling
+one over the other, with great screaming and laughing, to the high bank
+on the other side. The two younger ones stood mournfully watching the
+others from the opposite bank--when there stood beside them a small
+brown man.
+
+"Ho-ho! little people," said he, coming between them and taking hold of
+a hand of each. His was so warm and theirs so cold, that it was quite
+comfortable. And then, somehow, they found in their mouths a nice
+lozenge--I think it was peppermint, but am not sure; which comforted
+them still more.
+
+"Did you want me to play with you?" cried the Brownie; "then here I am.
+What shall we do? Have a turn on the ice together?"
+
+No sooner said than done. The two children felt themselves floating
+along--it was more like floating than running--with Brownie between
+them; up the lake, and down the lake, and across the lake, not at all
+interfering with the sliders--indeed, it was a great deal better than
+sliding. Rosy and breathless, their toes so nice and warm, and their
+hands feeling like mince-pies just taken out of the oven--the little
+ones came to a standstill.
+
+The elder ones stopped their sliding, and looked toward Brownie with
+entreating eyes. He swung himself up to a willow bough, and then turned
+head over heels on to the ice.
+
+"Halloo! you don't mean to say you big ones want a race too! Well, come
+along--if the two eldest will give a slide to the little ones."
+
+He watched them take a tiny sister between them, and slide her up one
+slide and down another, screaming with delight. Then he took the two
+middle children in either hand.
+
+"One, two, three, and away!" Off they started--scudding along as light
+as feathers and as fast as steam-engines, over the smooth, black ice, so
+clear that they could see the bits of stick and water-grasses frozen in
+it, and even the little fishes swimming far down below--if they had only
+looked long enough.
+
+When all had had their fair turns, they began to be frightfully hungry.
+
+[Illustration: The two little children felt themselves floating
+along--with Brownie between them--Page 64]
+
+"Catch a fish for dinner, and I'll lend you a hook," said Brownie. At
+which they all laughed, and then looked rather grave. Pulling a cold,
+raw live fish from under the ice and eating it was not a pleasant idea
+of dinner. "Well, what would you like to have? Let the little one
+choose."
+
+She said, after thinking a minute, that she should like a currant-cake.
+
+"And I'd give all you a bit of it--a very large bit--I would indeed!"
+added she, almost with the tears in her eyes--she was so very hungry.
+
+"Do it, then!" said the Brownie, in his little squeaking voice.
+
+Immediately the stone that the little girl was sitting on--a round, hard
+stone, and so cold!--turned into a nice hot cake--so hot that she jumped
+up directly. As soon as she saw what it was, she clapped her hands for
+joy.
+
+"Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful cake! only we haven't got a knife to
+cut it."
+
+The boys felt in all their pockets, but somehow their knives never were
+there when they were wanted.
+
+"Look! you've got one in your hand!" said Brownie to the little one; and
+that minute a bit of stick she held turned into a bread-knife--silver,
+with an ivory handle--big enough and sharp enough, without being too
+sharp. For the youngest girl was not allowed to use sharp knives, though
+she liked cutting things excessively, especially cakes.
+
+"That will do. Sit you down and carve the dinner. Fair shares and don't
+let any body eat too much. Now begin, ma'am," said the Brownie, quite
+politely, as if she had been ever so old.
+
+Oh, how proud the little girl was. How bravely she set to work, and cut
+five of the biggest slices you ever saw, and gave them to her brothers
+and sisters, and was just going to take the sixth slice for herself,
+when she remembered the Brownie.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said she, as politely as he, though she was such a
+very little girl, and turned round to the wee brown man. But he was
+nowhere to be seen. The slices of cake in the children's hands remained
+cake, and uncommonly good it was, and such substantial eating that it
+did nearly the same as dinner; but the cake itself turned suddenly to a
+stone again, and the knife into a bit of stick.
+
+For there was the Gardener coming clumping along by the bank of the
+lake, and growling as he went.
+
+"Have you got the kangaroo?" shouted the children, determined to be
+civil, if possible.
+
+"This place is bewitched, I think," said he, "The kangaroo was fast
+asleep in the cow-shed. What! how dare you laugh at me?"
+
+But they hadn't laughed at all. And they found it no laughing matter,
+poor children, when Gardener came on the ice, and began to scold them
+and order them about. He was perfectly savage with crossness; for the
+people at Giles's Farm had laughed at him very much, and he did not like
+to be laughed at--and at the top of the field he had by chance met his
+mistress, and she asked him severely how he could think of leaving the
+children alone.
+
+Altogether, his conscience pricked him a good deal, and when people's
+consciences prick them, sometimes they get angry with other people,
+which is very silly, and only makes matters worse.
+
+"What have you been doing all this time?" said he.
+
+"All this five minutes?" said the oldest boy, mischievously; for
+Gardener was only to be away five minutes, and he had staid a full
+hour. Also, when he fumbled in his pocket for the children's lunch--to
+stop their tongues, perhaps--he found it was not there.
+
+They set up a great outcry; for, in spite of the cake, they could have
+eaten a little more. Indeed, the frost had such an effect upon all their
+appetites, that they felt not unlike that celebrated gentleman of whom
+it is told that
+
+          "He ate a cow, and ate a calf,
+          He ate an ox, and ate a half;
+          He ate a church, he ate the steeple,
+          He ate the priest, and all the people,
+          And said he hadn't had enough then."
+
+"We're so hungry, so very hungry! Couldn't you go back again and fetch
+us some dinner?" cried they, entreatingly.
+
+"Not I, indeed. You may go back to dinner yourselves. You shall, indeed,
+for I want my dinner too. Two hours is plenty long enough to stop on the
+ice."
+
+"It isn't two hours--it's only one."
+
+"Well, one will do better than more. You're all right now--and you might
+soon tumble in, or break your legs on the slide. So come away home."
+
+It wasn't kind of Gardener, and I don't wonder the children felt it
+hard; indeed, the eldest boy resisted stoutly.
+
+"Mother said we might stop all day, and we will stop all day. You may go
+home if you like."
+
+"I won't, and you shall!" said Gardener, smacking a whip that he carried
+in his hand. "Stop till I catch you, and I'll give you this about your
+back, my fine gentleman."
+
+And he tried to follow, but the little fellow darted across the ice,
+objecting to be either caught or whipped. It may have been rather
+naughty, but I am afraid it was great fun dodging the Gardener up and
+down; he being too timid to go on the slippery ice, and sometimes
+getting so close that the whip nearly touched the lad.
+
+"Bless us! there's the kangaroo again!" said he, starting. Just as he
+had caught the boy, and lifted the whip, the creature was seen
+hop-hopping from bank to bank. "I can't surely be mistaken this time; I
+must catch it."
+
+Which seemed quite easy, for it limped as if it was lame, or as if the
+frost had bitten its toes, poor beast! Gardener went after it, walking
+cautiously on the slippery, crackling ice, and never minding whether or
+not he walked on the slides, though they called out to him that his
+nailed boots would spoil them.
+
+But whether it was that ice which bears a boy will not bear a man, or
+whether at each lame step of the kangaroo there came a great crack, is
+more than I can tell. However, just as Gardener reached the middle of
+the lake, the ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.--The kangaroo too,
+apparently, for it was not seen afterward.
+
+What a hullaballoo the poor man made! Not that he was drowning--the lake
+was too shallow to drown any body, but he got terribly wet, and the
+water was very cold. He soon scrambled out, the boys helping him; and
+then he hobbled home as fast as he could, not even saying thank you, or
+taking the least notice of them.
+
+Indeed, nobody took notice of them--nobody came to fetch them, and they
+might have staid sliding the whole afternoon. Only somehow they did not
+feel quite easy in their minds. And though the hole in the ice closed up
+immediately, and it seemed as firm as ever, still they did not like to
+slide upon it again.
+
+"I think we had better go home and tell mother every thing," said one of
+them. "Besides, we ought to see what has become of poor Gardener. He was
+very wet."
+
+"Yes, but oh, how funny he looked!" And they all burst out laughing at
+the recollection of the figure he cut, scrambling out through the ice
+with his trowsers dripping up to the knees, and the water running out of
+his boots, making a little pool, wherever he stepped.
+
+"And it freezes so hard, that by the time he gets home his clothes will
+be as stiff as a board. His wife will have to put him to the fire to
+thaw before he can get out of them."
+
+[Illustration: The ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.]
+
+Again the little people burst into shouts of laughter. Although they
+laughed, they were a little sorry for the poor old Gardener, and hoped
+no great harm had come to him, but that he had got safe home and been
+dried by his own warm fire.
+
+The frosty mist was beginning already to rise, and the sun, though still
+high up in the sky, looked like a ball of red-hot iron as the six
+children went homeward across the fields--merry enough still, but not
+quite so merry as they had been a few hours before.
+
+"Let's hope mother won't be vexed with us," said they, "but will let us
+come back again to-morrow. It wasn't our fault that Gardener tumbled
+in."
+
+As somebody said this, they all heard quite distinctly, "Ha, ha, ha!"
+and "Ho, ho, ho!" and a sound of little steps pattering behind.
+
+But whatever they thought, nobody ventured to say that it was the fault
+of the Brownie.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE SIXTH AND LAST
+
+BROWNIE AND THE CLOTHES
+
+
+TILL the next time; but when there is a Brownie in the house, no one can
+say that any of his tricks will be the last. For there's no stopping a
+Brownie, and no getting rid of him either. This one had followed the
+family from house to house, generation after generation--never any
+older, and sometimes seeming even to grow younger by the tricks he
+played. In fact, though he looked like an old man, he was a perpetual
+child.
+
+To the children he never did any harm, quite the contrary. And his chief
+misdoings were against those who vexed the children. But he gradually
+made friends with several of his grown up enemies. Cook, for instance,
+who had ceased to be lazy at night and late in the morning, found no
+more black footmarks on her white table cloth. And Brownie found his
+basin of milk waiting for him, night after night, behind the coal-cellar
+door.
+
+Bill, too, got on well enough with his pony, and Jess was taken no more
+night-rides. No ducks were lost; and Dolly gave her milk quite
+comfortably to whoever milked her. Alas! this was either Bill or the
+Gardener's wife now. After that adventure on the ice, poor Gardener very
+seldom appeared; when he did, it was on two crutches, for he had had
+rheumatism in his feet, and could not stir outside his cottage door.
+Bill, therefore, had double work; which was probably all the better for
+Bill.
+
+The garden had to take care of itself; but this being winter-time, it
+did not much signify. Besides, Brownie seldom went into the garden,
+except in summer; during the hard weather he preferred to stop in his
+coal-cellar. It might not have been a lively place, but it was warm, and
+he liked it.
+
+He had company there, too; for when the cat had more kittens--the kitten
+he used to tease being grown up now--they were all put in a hamper in
+the coal-cellar; and of cold nights Brownie used to jump in beside them,
+and be as warm and as cozy as a kitten himself. The little things never
+were heard to mew; so it may be supposed they liked his society. And the
+old mother-cat evidently bore him no malice for the whipping she had got
+by mistake; so Brownie must have found means of coaxing her over. One
+thing you may be sure of--all the while she and her kittens were in his
+coal-cellar, he took care never to turn himself into a mouse.
+
+He was spending the winter, on the whole, very comfortably, without much
+trouble either to himself or his neighbors, when one day, the
+coal-cellar being nearly empty, two men, and a great wagon-load of coals
+behind them, came to the door, Gardener's wife following.
+
+"My man says you're to give the cellar a good cleaning out before you
+put any more in," said she, in her sharp voice; "and don't be lazy about
+it. It'll not take you ten minutes, for it's nearly all coal-dust,
+except that one big lump in the corner--you might clear that out too."
+
+"Stop, it's the Brownie's lump! better not meddle with it," whispered
+the little scullery-maid.
+
+"Don't you meddle with matters that can't concern you," said the
+Gardener's wife, who had been thinking what a nice help it would be to
+her fire. To be sure, it was not her lump of coal, but she thought she
+might take it; the mistress would never miss it, or the Brownie either.
+He must be a very silly old Brownie to live under a lump of coal.
+
+So she argued with herself, and made the men lift it. "You must lift it,
+you see, if you are to sweep the coal-cellar out clean. And you may as
+well put it on the barrow, and I'll wheel it out of your way."
+
+This she said in quite a civil voice, lest they should tell of her, and
+stood by while it was being done. It was done without any thing
+happening, except that a large rat ran out of the coal-cellar door,
+bouncing against her feet, and frightening her so much that she nearly
+tumbled down.
+
+"See what nonsense it is to talk of Brownies living in a coal-cellar.
+Nothing lives there but rats, and I'll have them poisoned pretty soon,
+and get rid of them."
+
+But she was rather frightened all the same, for the rat had been such a
+very big rat, and had looked at her, as it darted past, with such wild,
+bright, mischievous eyes--brown eyes, of course--that she all but jumped
+with surprise.
+
+However, she had got her lump of coal, and was wheeling it quietly away,
+nobody seeing, to her cottage at the bottom of the garden. She was a
+hard-worked woman, and her husband's illness made things harder for her.
+Still, she was not quite easy at taking what did not belong to her.
+
+"I don't suppose any body will miss the coal," she repeated. "I dare say
+the mistress would have given it to me if I had asked her; and as for
+its being the Brownie's lump--fudge! Bless us! what's that?"
+
+For the barrow began to creak dreadfully, and every creak sounded like
+the cry of a child, just as if the wheel were going over its leg and
+crushing its poor little bones.
+
+"What a horrid noise! I must grease the barrow. If only I knew where
+they keep the grease-box. All goes wrong, now my old man's laid up. Oh,
+dear! oh dear!"
+
+For suddenly the barrow had tilted over, though there was not a single
+stone near, and the big coal was tumbled on to the ground, where it
+broke into a thousand pieces. Gathering it up again was hopeless, and it
+made such a mess on the gravel-walk, that the old woman was thankful her
+misfortune happened behind the privet hedge, where nobody was likely to
+come.
+
+"I'll take a broom and sweep it up to-morrow. Nobody goes near the
+orchard now, except me when I hang out the clothes; so I need say
+nothing about it to the old man or any body. But ah! deary me, what a
+beautiful lot of coal I've lost!"
+
+She stood and looked at it mournfully, and then went into her cottage,
+where she found two or three of the little children keeping Gardener
+company. They did not dislike to do this now; but he was so much kinder
+than he used to be--so quiet and patient, though he suffered very much.
+And he had never once reproached them for what they always
+remembered--how it was ever since he was on the ice with them that he
+had got the rheumatism.
+
+[Illustration: Suddenly the barrow had tilted over.]
+
+So, one or other of them made a point of going to see him every day, and
+telling him all the funny things they could think of--indeed, it was a
+contest among them who should first make Gardener laugh. They did not
+succeed in doing that exactly; but they managed to make him smile; and
+he was always gentle and grateful to them; so that they sometimes
+thought it was rather nice his being ill.
+
+But his wife was not pleasant; she grumbled all day long, and snapped at
+him and his visitors; being especially snappish this day, because she
+had lost her big coal.
+
+"I can't have you children come bothering here," said she, crossly. "I
+want to wring out my clothes, and hang them to dry. Be off with you!"
+
+"Let us stop a little--just to tell Gardener this one curious thing
+about Dolly and the pig--and then we'll help you to take your clothes to
+the orchard; we can carry your basket between us--we can, indeed."
+
+That was the last thing the woman wished; for she knew the that the
+children would be sure to see the mess on the gravel-walk--and they
+were such inquisitive children--they noticed every thing. They would
+want to know all about it, and how the bits of coal came there. It was
+very a awkward position. But people who take other people's property
+often do find themselves in awkward positions.
+
+"Thank you, young gentlemen," said she, quite politely; "but indeed the
+basket is too heavy for you. However, you may stop and gossip a little
+longer with my old man. He likes it."
+
+And, while they were shut up with Gardener in his bedroom, off she went,
+carrying the basket on her head, and hung her clothes carefully out--the
+big things on lines between the fruit trees, and the little things, such
+as stockings and pocket handkerchiefs, stuck on the gooseberry-bushes,
+or spread upon the clean green grass.
+
+"Such a fine day as it is! they'll dry directly," said she, cheerfully,
+to herself. "Plenty of sun, and not a breath of wind to blow them about.
+I'll leave them for an hour or two, and come and fetch them in before it
+grows dark. Then I shall get all my folding done by bedtime, and have a
+clear day for ironing to-morrow."
+
+But when she did fetch them in, having bundled them all together in the
+dusk of the evening, never was such a sight as those clothes! They were
+all twisted in the oddest way--the stockings turned inside out, with the
+heels and toes tucked into the legs; the sleeves of the shirts tied
+together in double knots, the pocket-handkerchiefs made into round
+balls, so tight that if you had pelted a person with them they would
+have given very hard blows indeed. And the whole looked as if, instead
+of lying quietly on the grass and bushes, they had been dragged through
+heaps of mud and then stamped upon, so that there was not a clean inch
+upon them from end to end.
+
+"What a horrid mess!" cried the Gardener's wife, who had been at first
+very angry, and then very frightened. "But I know what it is; that nasty
+Boxer has got loose again. It's he that has done it."
+
+"Boxer wouldn't tie shirt-sleeves in double knots, or make balls of
+pocket-handkerchiefs," Gardener was heard to answer, solemnly.
+
+"Then it's those horrid children; they are always up to some mischief or
+other--just let me catch them!"
+
+"You'd better not," said somebody in a voice exactly like Gardener's,
+though he himself declared he had not spoken a word. Indeed, he was fast
+asleep.
+
+"Well, it's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of," the
+Gardener's wife said, supposing she was talking to her husband all the
+time; but soon she held her tongue, for she found here and there among
+the clothes all sorts of queer marks--marks of fingers, and toes, and
+heels, not in mud at all, but in coal-dust, as black as black could be.
+
+Now, as the place where the big coal had tumbled out of the barrow was
+fully fifty yards from the orchard, and, as the coal could not come to
+the clothes, and the clothes could not go without hands, the only
+conclusion she could arrive at was--well, no particular conclusion at
+all!
+
+It was too late that night to begin washing again; besides, she was
+extremely tired, and her husband woke up rather worse than usual, so she
+just bundled the clothes up anyhow in a corner, put the kitchen to
+rights, and went mournfully to bed.
+
+Next morning she got up long before it was light, washed her clothes
+through all over again, and, it being impossible to dry them by the
+fire, went out with them once more, and began spreading them out in
+their usual corner, in a hopeless and melancholy manner. While she was
+at it, the little folks came trooping around her. She didn't scold them
+this time, she was too low-spirited.
+
+"No! my old man isn't any better, and I don't fancy he ever will be,"
+said she, in answer to their questions. "And every thing's going wrong
+with us--just listen!" And she told the trick which had been played her
+about the clothes.
+
+The little people tried not to laugh, but it was so funny; and even now,
+the minute she had done hanging them out, there was something so droll
+in the way the clothes blew about, without any wind; the shirts hanging
+with their necks downward, as if there was a man inside them; and the
+drawers standing stiffly astride on the gooseberry-bushes, for all the
+world as if they held a pair of legs still. As for Gardener's
+night-caps--long, white cotton, with a tassel at the top--they were
+alarming to look at; just like a head stuck on the top of a pole.
+
+The whole thing was so peculiar, and the old woman so comical in her
+despair, that the children, after trying hard to keep it in, at last
+broke into shouts of laughter. She turned furiously upon them.
+
+"It was you who did it!"
+
+"No, indeed it wasn't!" said they, jumping farther to escape her blows.
+For she had got one of her clothes-props, and was laying about her in
+the most reckless manner. However, she hurt nobody, and then she
+suddenly burst out, not laughing, but crying.
+
+"It's a cruel thing, whoever has done it, to play such tricks on a poor
+old body like me, with a sick husband that she works hard for, and not a
+child to help her. But I don't care. I'll wash my clothes again, if it's
+twenty times over, and I'll hang them out again in the very place, just
+to make you all ashamed of yourselves."
+
+Perhaps the little people were ashamed of themselves, though they really
+had not done the mischief. But they knew quite well who had done it, and
+more than once they were about to tell; only they were afraid, if they
+did so, they should vex the Brownie so much that he would never come and
+play with them any more.
+
+So they looked at one another without speaking, and when the Gardener's
+wife had emptied her basket and dried her eyes, they said to her, very
+kindly:
+
+"Perhaps no harm may come to your clothes this time. We'll sit and watch
+them till they are dry."
+
+"Just as you like; I don't care. Them that hides can find, and them that
+plays tricks knows how to stop 'em."
+
+It was not a civil speech, but then things were hard for the poor old
+woman. She had been awake nearly all night, and up washing at daybreak;
+her eyes were red with crying, and her steps weary and slow. The little
+children felt quite sorry for her, and, instead of going to play, sat
+watching the clothes as patiently as possible.
+
+Nothing came near them. Sometimes, as before, the things seemed to dance
+about without hands, and turn into odd shapes, as if there were people
+inside them; but not a creature was seen and not a sound was heard. And
+though there was neither wind nor sun, very soon all the linen was
+perfectly dry.
+
+"Fetch one of mother's baskets, and we'll fold it up as tidily as
+possible--that is, the girls can do it, it's their business--and we boys
+will carry it safe to Gardener's cottage."
+
+So said they, not liking to say that they could not trust it out of
+their sight for fear of Brownie, whom, indeed, they were expecting to
+see peer round from every bush. They began to have a secret fear that
+he was rather a naughty Brownie; but then, as the eldest little girl
+whispered, "He was only a Brownie, and knew no better." Now they were
+growing quite big children, who would be men and women some time; when
+they hoped they would never do any thing wrong. (Their parents hoped the
+same, but doubted it.)
+
+In a serious and careful manner they folded up the clothes, and laid
+them one by one in the basket without any mischief, until, just as the
+two biggest boys were lifting their burden to carry it away, they felt
+something tugging at it from underneath.
+
+"Halloo! Where are you taking all this rubbish? Better give it to me."
+
+"No, if you please," said they, very civilly, not to offend the little
+brown man. "We'll not trouble you, thanks! We'd rather do it ourselves;
+for poor Gardener is very ill, and his wife is very miserable, and we
+are extremely sorry for them both."
+
+"Extremely sorry!" cried Brownie, throwing up his cap in the air, and
+tumbling head over heels in an excited manner. "What in the world does
+extremely sorry mean?"
+
+The children could not explain, especially to a Brownie; but they
+thought they understood--anyhow, they felt it. And they looked so
+sorrowful that the Brownie could not tell what to make of it.
+
+He could not be said to be sorry, since, being a Brownie, and not a
+human being, knowing right from wrong, he never tried particularly to do
+right, and had no idea that he was doing wrong. But he seemed to have an
+idea that he was troubling the children, and he never liked to see them
+look unhappy.
+
+So he turned head over heels six times running, and then came back
+again.
+
+"The silly old woman! I washed her clothes for her last night in a way
+she didn't expect. I hadn't any soap, so I used a little mud and
+coal-dust, and very pretty they looked. Ha, ha, ha! Shall I wash them
+over again to-night?"
+
+"Oh, no, please don't!" implored the children.
+
+"Shall I starch and iron them? I'll do it beautifully. One--two--three,
+five--six--seven, Abracadabra, tum--tum--ti!" shouted he, jabbering all
+sorts of nonsense, as it seemed to the children, and playing such antics
+that they stood and stared in the utmost amazement, and quite forgot the
+clothes. When they looked round again, the basket was gone.
+
+      "Seek till you find, seek till you find,
+       Under the biggest gooseberry-bush, exactly to your mind."
+
+They heard him singing this remarkable rhyme, long after they had lost
+sight of him. And then they all set about searching; but it was a long
+while before they found, and still longer before they could decide,
+which was the biggest gooseberry-bush, each child having his or her
+opinion--sometimes a very strong one--on the matter. At last they agreed
+to settle it by pulling half-a-dozen little sticks, to see which stick
+was the longest, and the child that held it was to decide the
+gooseberry-bush.
+
+This done, underneath the branches what should they find but the
+identical basket of clothes! only, instead of being roughly dried, they
+were all starched and ironed in the most beautiful manner. As for the
+shirts, they really were a picture to behold, and the stockings were all
+folded up, and even darned in one or two places, as neatly as possible.
+And strange to tell, there was not a single black mark of feet or
+fingers on any one of them.
+
+"Kind little Brownie! clever little Brownie!" cried the children in
+chorus, and thought this was the most astonishing trick he had ever
+played.
+
+What the Gardener's wife said about it, whether they told her any thing,
+or allowed her to suppose that the clothes had been done in their own
+laundry instead of the Brownie's (wherever that establishment might be),
+is more than I can tell. Of one thing only I am certain--that the little
+people said nothing but what was true. Also, that the very minute they
+got home they told their mother every thing.
+
+But for a long time after that they were a good deal troubled. Gardener
+got better, and went hobbling about the place again, to his own and
+every body's great content, and his wife was less sharp-tongued and
+complaining than usual--indeed, she had nothing to complain of. All the
+family were very flourishing, except the little Brownie.
+
+Often there was heard a curious sound all over the house; it might have
+been rats squeaking behind the wainscot--the elders said it was--but the
+children were sure it was a sort of weeping and wailing.
+
+          "They've stolen my coal,
+           And I haven't a hole
+             To hide in;
+           Not even a house
+           One could ask a mouse
+             To bide in."
+
+A most forlorn tune it was, ending in a dreary minor key, and it lasted
+for months and months--at least the children said it did. And they were
+growing quite dull for want of a playfellow, when, by the greatest good
+luck in the world, there came to the house not only a new lot of
+kittens, but a new baby. And the new baby was everybody's pet, including
+the Brownie's.
+
+[Illustration: The new baby was everybody's pet.--Page 87]
+
+From that time, though he was not often seen, he was continually heard
+up and down the staircase, where he was frequently mistaken for Tiny or
+the cat, and sent sharply down again, which was wasting a great deal of
+wholesome anger upon Mr. Nobody. Or he lurked in odd corners of the
+nursery, whither the baby was seen crawling eagerly after nothing in
+particular, or sitting laughing with all her might at something--probably
+her own toes.
+
+But, as Brownie was never seen, he was never suspected. And since he did
+no mischief--neither pinched the baby nor broke the toys, left no soap
+in the bath and no footmarks about the room--but was always a
+well-conducted Brownie in every way, he was allowed to inhabit the
+nursery (or supposed to do so, since, as nobody saw him, nobody could
+prevent him), until the children were grown up into men and women.
+
+After that he retired into his coal-cellar, and, for all I know, he may
+live there still, and have gone through hundreds of adventures since;
+but as I never heard them, I can't tell them. Only I think, if I could
+be a little child again, I should exceedingly like a Brownie to play
+with me. Should not you?
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: Some Poems For Children
+
+By Miss Mulock]
+
+
+THE BLACKBIRD AND THE ROOKS.
+
+    A SLENDER young Blackbird built in a thorn-tree
+    A spruce little fellow as ever could be;
+    His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black,
+    So long was his tail, and so glossy his back,
+    That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her eggs,
+    And only just left them to stretch her poor legs,
+    And pick for a minute the worm she preferred,
+    Thought there never was seen such a beautiful bird.
+
+    And such a kind husband! how early and late
+    He would sit at the top of the old garden gate,
+    And sing, just as merry as if it were June,
+    Being ne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune.
+    "So unlike those Rooks, dear; from morning till night
+    They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight,
+    And wrangle and jangle, and plunder--while we
+    Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree."
+
+    Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook
+    Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook,
+    And seizing a stick from the nest--"Come, I say,
+    That will just suit me, neighbor"--flew with it away
+    The lady loud twittered--her husband soon heard:
+    Though peaceful, he was not a cowardly bird;
+    And with arguments angry enough to o'erwhelm
+    A whole Rookery--flew to the top of the elm.
+
+    "How dare you, you--" (thief he was going to say;
+    But a civiller sentiment came in the way:
+    For he knew 'tis no good, and it anyhow shames
+    A gentleman, calling strange gentlemen names:)
+    "Pray what is your motive, Sir Rook, for such tricks,
+    As building your mansion with other folks' sticks?
+    I request you'll restore them, in justice and law."
+    At which the whole colony set up a--caw!
+
+    But Blackbird, not silenced, then spoke out again;
+    "I've built my small nest with much labor and pain.
+    I'm a poor singing gentleman, Sirs, it is true,
+    Though cockneys do often mistake me for you;
+    But I keep Mrs. Blackbird, and four little eggs,
+    And neither e'er pilfers, or borrows, or begs.
+    Now have I not right on my side, do you see?"
+    But they flew at and pecked him all down the elm-tree.
+
+    Ah! wickedness prospers sometimes, I much fear;
+    And virtue's not always victorious, that's clear:
+    At least, not at first: for it must be confessed
+    Poor Blackbird lost many a stick from his nest;
+    And his unkind grand neighbors with scoffing caw-caws,
+    In his voice and his character found many flaws,
+    And jeered him and mocked him; but when they'd all done,
+    He flew to his tree and sang cheerily on.
+
+    At length May arrived with her garlands of leaves;
+    The swallows were building beneath the farm-eaves,
+    Wrens, linnets, and sparrows, on every hedge-side,
+    Were bringing their families out with great pride;
+    While far above all, on the tallest tree-top,
+    With a flutter and clamor that never did stop,
+    The haughty old Rooks held their heads up so high,
+    And dreamed not of trouble--until it drew nigh!
+
+    One morning at seven, as he came with delight
+    To his wife's pretty parlor of may-blossoms white,
+    Having fed all his family ere rise of sun,--
+    Mr. Blackbird perceived--a big man with a gun;
+    Who also perceived him: "See, Charlie, among
+    That may, sits the Blackbird we've heard for so long:
+    Most likely his nest's there--how frightened he looks!
+    Nay, Blackie, we're not come for you, but the Rooks."
+
+    I don't say 'twas cruel--I can't say 'twas kind--
+    On the subject I haven't quite made up my mind:
+    But those guns went pop-popping all morning, alas!
+    And young Rooks kept dropping among the long grass,
+    Till good Mr. Blackbird, who watched the whole thing,
+    For pity could scarcely a single note sing,
+    And in the May sunset he hardly could bear
+    To hear the returning Rooks' caw of despair.
+
+    "O, dear Mrs. Blackbird," at last warbled he,
+    "How happy we are in our humble thorn-tree;
+    How gaily we live, living honest and poor,
+    How sweet are the may-blossoms over our door."
+    "And then our dear children," the mother replied,
+    And she nested them close to her warm feathered side,
+    And with a soft twitter of drowsy content,
+    In the quiet May moonlight to sleep they all went.
+
+
+
+THE SHAKING OF THE PEAR-TREE
+
+          OF all days I remember,
+            In summers passed away,
+          Was "the shaking of the pear-tree,"
+            In grandma's orchard gay.
+
+          A large old-fashioned orchard,
+            With long grass under foot,
+          And blackberry-brambles crawling
+            In many a tangled shoot.
+
+          From cherry time, till damsons
+            Dropped from the branches sere,
+          That wonderful old orchard
+            Was full of fruit all year;
+
+          We pick'd it up in baskets,
+            Or pluck'd it from the wall;
+          But the shaking of the pear-tree
+            Was the grandest treat of all.
+
+                Long, long the days we counted
+                  Until that day drew nigh;
+                Then, how we watched the sun set,
+                  And criticised the sky!
+
+                    If rain--"'Twill clear at midnight;"
+                      If dawn broke chill and gray,
+                    "O many a cloudy morning
+                      Turns out a lovely day."
+
+          So off we started gaily,
+            Heedless of jolt or jar;
+          Through town and lane, and hamlet,
+            In old Llewellyn's car.
+
+                He's dead and gone--Llewellyn,
+                  These twenty years, I doubt:
+                If I put him in this poem,
+                  He'll never find it out,
+
+                    The patient, kind Llewellyn--
+                      Whose broad face smiled all o'er,
+                    As he lifted out us children
+                      At grandma's very door.
+
+          And there stood Grandma's Betty,
+            With cheeks like apples red;
+          And Dash, the spaniel, waddled
+            Out of his cosy bed.
+
+                With silky ears down dropping,
+                  And coat of chestnut pale;
+                He was so fat and lazy
+                  He scarce could wag his tail.
+
+                    Poor Dash is dead, and buried
+                      Under the lilac-tree;
+                    And Betty's old,--as, children,
+                      We all may one day be.
+
+          I hope no child will vex us,
+            As we vexed Betty then,
+          With winding up the draw-well,
+            Or hunting the old hen.
+
+                And teasing, teasing, teasing,
+                  Till afternoon wore round,
+                And shaken pears came tumbling
+                  In showers upon the ground.
+
+                    O how we jumped and shouted!
+                      O how we plunged amid
+                    The long grass, where the treasures,
+                      Dropped down and deftly hid;
+
+          Long, slender-shaped, red-russet,
+            Or yellow just like gold;
+          Ah! never pears have tasted
+            Like those sweet pears of old!
+
+                We ate--I'd best not mention
+                  How many: paused to fill
+                Big basket after basket;
+                  Working with right good-will;
+
+                    Then hunted round the orchard
+                      For half-ripe plums--in vain;
+                    So, back unto the pear-tree,
+                      To eat, and eat again.
+
+          I'm not on my confession,
+            And therefore need not say
+          How tired, and cross, and sleepy,
+            Some were ere close of day;
+
+                For pleasure has its ending,
+                  And eke its troubles too;
+                Which you'll find out, my children,
+                  As well as we could do.
+
+                    But yet this very minute,
+                      I seem to see it all--
+                    The pear-tree's empty branches
+                      The gray of evening-fall;
+
+          The children's homeward silence,
+            The furnace fires that glowed,
+          Each mile or so, out streaming
+            Across the lonely road;
+
+          And high, high set in heaven,
+            One large bright, beauteous star,
+          That shone between the curtains
+            Of old Llewellyn's car.
+
+
+THE WONDERFUL APPLE-TREE.[A]
+
+    COME here, my dear boys, and I'll tell you a fable,
+    Which you may believe as much as you're able;
+    It isn't all true, nor all false, I'll be bound--
+    Of the tree that bears apples all the year round.
+
+    There was a Dean Tucker of Gloster city,
+    Who may have been wise, or worthy, or witty;
+    But I know nothing of him, the more's the pity,
+    Save that he was Dean Tucker of Gloster city.
+
+    And walking one day with a musing air
+    In his Deanery garden, close by where
+    The great cathedral's west window's seen,--
+    "I'll plant an apple," said Tucker the Dean.
+
+    The apple was planted, the apple grew,
+    A stout young tree, full of leaves not few;
+    The apple was grafted, the apple bore
+    Of goodly apples, one, two, three, four.
+
+    The old Dean walked in his garden fair,
+    "I'm glad I planted that young tree there,
+    Though it was but a shoot, or some old tree's sucker;
+    I'll taste it to-morrow," said good Dean Tucker.
+
+    But lo, in the night when (they say) trees talk,
+    And some of the liveliest get up and walk,
+    With fairies abroad for watch and warden--
+    There was such a commotion in the Dean's garden!
+
+    "I will not be gathered," the apple-tree said,
+    "Was it for this I blossomed so red?
+    Hung out my fruit all the summer days,
+    Got so much sunshine, and pleasure and praise?"
+
+    "Ah!" interrupted a solemn red plum,
+    "This is the end to which all of us come;
+    Last month I was laden with hundreds--but now"--
+    And he sighed the last little plum off from his bough.
+
+    "Nay, friend, take it easy," the pear-tree replied
+    (A lady-like person against the wall-side).
+    "Man guards, nurtures, trains us from top down to root:
+    I think 'tis but fair we should give him our fruit."
+
+    "No, I'll not be gathered," the apple resumed,
+    And shook his young branches, and fluttered and fumed;
+    "And I'll not drop neither, as some of you drop,
+    Over-ripe: I'm determined to keep my whole crop.
+
+    "And I with"--O'er his branches just then _something_ flew;
+    It seemed like moth, large and grayish of hue.
+    But it was a Fairy. Her voice soft did sound,
+    "Be the tree that bears apples all the year round."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    The Dean to his apple-tree, came, full of hope,
+    But tough was the fruit-stalk as double-twist rope,
+    And when he had cut it with patience and pain,
+    He bit just one mouthful--and never again.
+
+    "An apple so tasteless, so juiceless, so hard,
+    Is, sure, good for nought but to bowl in the yard;
+    The choir-boys may have it." But choir-boys soon found
+    It was worthless--the tree that bore all the year round.
+
+    And Gloster lads climbing the Deanery wall
+    Were punished, as well might all young thieves appal,
+    For, clutching the booty for which they did sin,
+    They bit at the apples--and left their teeth in!
+
+    And thus all the year from October till May,
+    From May till October, the apples shone gay;
+    But 'twas just outside glitter, for no hand was found
+    To pluck at the fruit which hung all the year round.
+
+    And so till they rotted, those queer apples hung,
+    The bare boughs and blossoms and ripe fruit among
+    And in Gloster city it still may be found--
+    The tree that bears apples all the year round.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[A] This tree, known among gardeners by the name of "Winter-hanger" or
+"Forbidden Fruit," was planted by Dean Tucker in 1760. It, or an off
+shoot from it, still exists in the city of Gloucester.
+
+
+THE JEALOUS BOY
+
+          WHAT, my little foolish Ned,
+            Think you mother's eyes are blind,
+            That her heart has grown unkind,
+          And she will not turn her head,
+            Cannot see, for all her joy,
+            Her poor jealous little boy?
+
+          What though sister be the pet--
+            Laughs, and leaps, and clings, and loves,
+            With her eyes as soft as dove's--
+          Why should yours with tears be wet?
+            Why such angry tears let fall?
+            Mother's heart has room for all.
+
+          Mother's heart is very wide,
+            And its doors all open stand:
+            Lightest touch of tiniest hand
+          She will never put aside.
+            Why her happiness destroy,
+            Foolish, naughty, jealous boy?
+
+          Come within the circle bright,
+            Where we laugh, and dance, and sing,
+            Full of love to everything;
+          As God loves us, day and night,
+            And _forgives_ us. Come--with joy
+            Mother too forgives her boy.
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE BIRKENHEAD
+
+TOLD TO TWO CHILDREN
+
+          AND so you want a fairy tale,
+            My little maidens twain?
+          Well, sit beside the waterfall,
+            Noisy with last night's rain;
+
+          On couch of moss, with elfin spears
+            Bristling, all fierce to see,
+          When from the yet brown moor down drops
+            The lonely April bee.
+
+          All the wide valley blushes green,
+            While, in far depths below,
+          Wharfe flashes out a great bright eye,
+            Then hides his shining flow;--
+
+          Wharfe, busy, restless, rapid Wharfe,
+            The glory of our dale;
+          O I could of the River Wharfe
+            Tell such a fairy tale!
+
+          "The Boy of Egremond," you cry,--
+            "And all the 'bootless bene:'
+          We know that poem, every word,
+            And we the Strid have seen."
+
+          No, clever damsels: though the tale
+            Seems still to bear a part,
+          In every lave of Wharfe's bright wave,
+            The broken mother's heart--
+
+          Little you know of broken hearts,
+            My Kitty, blithe and wise,
+          Grave Mary, with the woman soul
+            Dawning through childish eyes.
+
+          And long, long distant may God keep
+            The day when each shall know
+          The entrance to His kingdom through
+            His baptism of woe!
+
+          But yet 'tis good to hear of grief
+            Which He permits to be;
+          Even as in our green inland home
+            We talk of wrecks at sea.
+
+          So on this lovely day, when spring
+            Wakes soft o'er moor and dale,
+          I'll tell--not quite your wish--but yet
+            A noble "fairy" tale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          'Twas six o'clock in the morning,
+            The sea like crystal lay,
+          When the good troop-ship Birkenhead
+            Set sail from Simon's Bay.
+
+          The Cape of Good Hope on her right
+            Gloomed at her through the noon:
+          Brief tropic twilight fled, and night
+            Fell suddenly and soon.
+
+          At eight o'clock in the evening
+            Dim grew the pleasant land;
+          O'er smoothest seas the southern heaven
+            Its starry arch out-spanned.
+
+          The soldiers on the bulwarks leaned,
+            Smoked, chatted; and below
+          The soldiers' wives sang babes to sleep,
+            While on the ship sailed slow.
+
+          Six hundred and thirty souls held she,
+            Good, bad, old, young, rich, poor;
+          Six hundred and thirty living souls--
+            God knew them all.--Secure
+
+          He counted them in His right hand,
+            That held the hungering seas;
+          And to four hundred came a voice--
+            "The Master hath need of these."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          On, onward, still the vessel went
+            Till, with a sudden shock,
+          Like one that's clutched by unseen Death,
+            She struck upon a rock.
+
+          She filled. Not hours, not minutes left;
+            Each second a life's gone:
+          Drowned in their berths, washed overboard,
+            Lost, swimming, one by one;
+
+          Till, o'er this chaos of despair
+            Rose, like celestial breath,
+          The law of order, discipline,
+            Obedience unto death.
+
+          The soldiers mustered upon deck,
+            As mute as on parade;
+          "Women and children to the boats!"
+            And not a man gainsayed.
+
+          Without a murmur or a moan
+            They stood, formed rank and file,
+          Between the dreadful crystal seas
+            And the sky's dreadful smile.
+
+          In face of death they did their work
+            As they in life would do,
+          Embarking at a quiet quay--
+            A quiet, silent crew.
+
+          "Now each man for himself. To the boats!"
+            Arose a passing cry.
+          The soldier-captain answered, "Swamp
+            The women and babes?--No, die!"
+
+          And so they died. Each in his place,
+            Obedient to command,
+          They went down with the sinking ship,
+            Went down in sight of land.
+
+          The great sea oped her mouth, and closed
+            O'er them. Awhile they trod
+          The valley of the shadow of death,
+            And then were safe with God.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          My little girlies--What! your tears
+            Are dropping on the grass,
+          Over my more than "fairy" tale,
+            A tale that "really was!"
+
+          Nay, dry them. If we could but see
+            The joy in angels' eyes
+          O'er good lives, or heroic deaths
+            Of pure self-sacrifice,--
+
+          We should not weep o'er these that sleep--
+            Their short, sharp struggle o'er--
+          Under the rolling waves that break
+            Upon the Afric shore.
+
+          God works not as man works, nor sees
+            As man sees: though we mark
+          Ofttimes the moving of His hands
+            Beneath the eternal Dark.
+
+          But yet we know that all is well
+            That He, who loved all these,
+          Loves children laughing on the moor,
+            Birds singing in the trees;
+
+          That He who made both life and death,
+            He knoweth which is best:
+          We live to Him, we die to Him,
+            And leave Him all the rest.
+
+
+BIRDS IN THE SNOW
+
+
+CHILD
+
+    I WISH I were a little bird
+      When the sun shines
+    And the wind whispers low,
+      Through the tall pines,
+    I'd rock in the elm tops,
+      Rifle the pear-tree,
+    Hide in the cherry boughs,
+      O such a rare tree!
+
+          I wish I were a little bird;
+            All summer long
+          I'd fly so merrily
+            Sing such a song!
+          Song that should never cease
+            While daylight lasted,
+          Wings that should never tire
+            Howe'er they hasted.
+
+
+MOTHER
+
+                 But if you were a little bird--
+                   My baby-blossom.
+                 Nestling so cosily
+                   In mother's bosom,--
+                 A bird, as we see them now,
+                   When the snows harden,
+                 And the wind's blighting breath
+                   Howls round the garden:
+
+    What would you do, poor bird,
+      In winter drear?
+    No nest to creep into,
+      No mother near:
+    Hungry and desolate,
+      Weary and woeful,
+    All the earth bound with frost,
+      All the sky snow-full?
+
+
+CHILD (_thoughtfully_).
+
+              That would be sad, and yet
+                Hear what I'd do--
+              Mother, in winter time
+                I'd come to you!
+              If you can like the birds
+                Spite of their thieving,
+              Give them your trees to build,
+                Garden to live in,
+
+                        I think if I were a bird
+                          When winter comes
+                        I'd trust you, mother dear,
+                          For a few crumbs,
+                        Whether I sang or not,
+                          Were lark, thrush, or starling.--
+
+
+MOTHER (_aside_).
+
+                          Then--Father--I trust _Thee_
+                            With this my darling.
+
+
+THE LITTLE COMFORTER
+
+    "WHAT is wrong with my big brother?"
+        Says the child;
+    For they two had got no mother
+    And she loved him like no other:
+                            If he smiled,
+                    All the world seemed bright and gay
+                    To this happy little May.
+
+    If to her he sharply spoke,
+          This big brother--
+    Then her tender heart nigh broke;
+    But the cruel pain that woke,
+                            She would smother--
+                    As a little woman can;--
+                    Was he not almost a man?
+
+    But when trouble or disgrace
+          Smote the boy,
+    She would lift her gentle face--
+    Surely 'twas her own right place.
+                            To bring joy?
+                      For she loved him--loved him so!
+                      Whether he was good or no
+
+            May be he will never feel
+                Half her love;
+            Wound her, and forget to heal:
+                Idle words are sharp as steel:
+                      But above,
+                I know what the angels say
+                Of this silent little May.
+
+
+DON'T BE AFRAID.
+
+    DON'T be afraid of the dark,
+      My daughter, dear as my soul!
+    You see but a part of the gloomy world,
+      But I--I have seen the whole,
+    And I know each step of the fearsome way,
+    Till the shadows brighten to open day.
+
+    Don't be afraid of pain,
+    My tender little child:
+      When its smart is worst there comes strength to bear,
+    And it seems as if angels smiled,--
+    As I smile, dear, when I hurt you now.
+    In binding up that wound on your brow.
+
+    Don't be afraid of grief,
+      'Twill come--as night follows day,
+    But the bleakest sky has tiny rifts
+    When the stars shine through--as to say
+    Wait, wait a little--till night is o'er
+    And beautiful day come back once more.
+
+    O child, be afraid of sin,
+      But have no other fear,
+    For God's in the dark, as well as the light;
+      And while we can feel Him near,
+    His hand that He gives, His love that He gave,
+      Lead safely, even to the dark of the grave.
+
+
+GIRL AND BOY
+
+          ALFRED is gentle as a girl,
+            But Judith longs to be a boy!
+          Would cut off every pretty curl
+            With eager joy!
+
+          Hates to be called "my dear"--or kissed:
+            For dollies does not care one fig:
+          Goes, sticking hands up to the wrist
+            In jackets big.
+
+          Would like to do whate'er boy can;
+            Play cricket--even to go school:
+          It is so grand to be a man!
+            A girl's a fool!
+
+          But Alfred smiles superior love
+            On all these innocent vagaries.
+          He'd hate a goose! but yet a dove
+            Ah, much more rare is!
+
+          She's anything but dove, good sooth!
+            But she's his dear and only sister:
+          And, had she been a boy, in truth
+            How he'd have missed her.
+
+          So, gradually her folly dies,
+            And she'll consent to be just human,
+          When there shines out of girlish eyes
+            The real Woman.
+
+
+AGNES AT PRAYER
+
+          "OUR Father which art in heaven,"
+              Little Agnes prays,
+          Though her kneeling is but show,
+          Though she is too young to know
+              All, or half she says.
+          God will hear her, Agnes mild,
+          God will love the innocent child.
+
+          "Our Father which art in heaven."
+              She has a father here,
+          Does she think of his kind eyes,
+          Tones that ne'er in anger rise--
+              "Yes, dear," or "No, dear."
+          They will haunt her whole life long
+          Like a sweet pathetic song.
+
+          "Our Father which art in heaven,"
+          Through thy peaceful prayer,
+          Think of the known father's face,
+          Of his bosom, happy place;
+                Safely sheltered there;
+          And so blessed--long may He bless!
+          Think too of the fatherless.
+
+
+GOING TO WORK
+
+    COME along for the work is ready--
+      Rough it may be, rough, tough and hard--
+    But--fourteen years old--stout, strong and steady,
+      Life's game's beginning, lad!--play your card--
+            Come along.
+
+    Mother stands at the door-step crying
+      Well but she has a brave heart too:
+    She'll try to be glad--there's nought like trying,
+      She's proud of having a son like you.
+            Come along.
+
+    Young as she is, her hair is whitening,
+      She has ploughed thro' years of sorrow deep,
+    She looks at her boy, and her eyes are brightening,
+      Shame if ever you make them weep!
+          Come along.
+
+    Bravo! See how the brown cheek flushes!
+      Ready to work as hard as you can?
+    I have always faith in a boy that blushes,
+      None will blush for him, when he's a man.
+          Come along.
+
+
+THREE COMPANIONS
+
+          WE go on our way together,
+            Baby, and dog, and I;
+          Three merry companions,
+            'Neath any sort of sky;
+          Blue as her pretty eyes are,
+            Or gray, like his dear old tail;
+          Be it windy, or cloudy, or stormy,
+            Our courage does never fail.
+
+          Sometimes the snow lies thickly,
+            Under the hedge-row bleak;
+          Then baby cries "Pretty, pretty,"
+            The only word she can speak.
+          Sometimes two rivers of water
+            Run down the muddy lane;
+          Then dog leaps backwards and forwards
+            Barking with might and main.
+
+          Baby's a little lady,
+            Dog is a gentleman brave:
+          If he had two legs as you have
+            He'd kneel to her like a slave;
+          As it is he loves and protects her,
+            As dog and gentleman can;
+          I'd rather be a kind doggie
+            I think, than a brute of a man.
+
+
+THE MOTHERLESS CHILD
+
+    SHE was going home down the lonely street,
+    A widow-woman with weary feet
+    And weary eyes that seldom smiled:
+    She had neither mother, sister, nor child.
+    She earned her bread with a patient heart,
+    And ate it quietly and apart,
+    In her silent home from day to day,
+    No one to say her "ay," or "nay."
+
+    She was going home without care to haste;
+    What should she haste for? On she paced
+    Through the snowy night so bleak and wild,
+    When she thought she heard the cry of a child,
+    A feeble cry, not of hunger or pain,
+    But just of sorrow. It came again.
+    She stopped--she listened--she almost smiled--
+    "That sounds like a wail of a motherless child."
+
+    A house stood open--no soul was there--
+    Her dull, tired feet grew light on the stair;
+    She mounted--entered. One bed on the floor,
+    And Something in it: and close by the door,
+    Watching the stark form, stretched out still,
+    Ignorant knowing not good nor ill,
+    But only a want and a misery wild,
+    Crouched the dead mother's motherless child.
+
+    What next? Come say what would you have done
+    Dear children playing about in the sun,
+    Or sitting by pleasant fireside warm,
+    Hearing outside the howling storm?
+    The widow went in and she shut the door,
+    She stayed by the dead an hour or more--
+    And when she went home through the night so wild,
+    She had in her arms a sleeping child.
+
+    Now she is old and feeble and dull,
+    But her empty heart is happy and full
+    If her crust be hard and her cottage poor
+    There's a young foot tripping across the floor,
+    Young hands to help her that never tire,
+    And a young voice singing beside the fire;
+    And her tired eyes look as if they smiled,--
+    Childless mother and motherless child.
+
+
+THE WREN'S NEST
+
+              I TOOK the wren's nest;--
+              Heaven forgive me!
+          Its merry architects so small
+          Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
+          That empty still and neat and fair
+          Hung idly in the summer air.
+          The mossy walls, the dainty door,
+          Where Love should enter and explore,
+          And Love sit caroling outside,
+          And Love within chirp multiplied;--
+              I took the wren's nest;--
+              Heaven forgive me!
+
+          How many hours of happy pains
+          Through early frosts and April rains,
+          How many songs at eve and morn
+          O'er springing grass and greening corn,
+          Before the pretty house was made!
+          One little minute, only one,
+          And she'll fly back, and find it--gone!
+              I took the wren's nest;--
+              Bird, forgive me!
+
+          Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,
+          Ye have before you all the year,
+          And every wood holds nooks for you,
+          In which to sing and build and woo
+          One piteous cry of birdish pain--
+          And ye'll begin your life again,
+          Forgetting quite the lost, lost home
+          In many a busy home to come--
+          But I?--Your wee house keep I must
+          Until it crumble into dust.
+              I took the wren's nest:
+              God forgive me!
+
+
+A CHILD'S SMILE
+
+    A CHILD'S smile--nothing more;
+    Quiet and soft and grave, and seldom seen,
+    Like summer lightning o'er,
+    Leaving the little face again serene.
+
+    I think, boy well-beloved,
+    Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far
+    Thy childhood is removed
+    From sports that dear to other children are,
+
+    On this pale cheek has thrown
+    The brightness of his countenance, and made
+    A beauty like his own--
+    That, while we see it, we are half afraid,
+
+    And marvel, will it stay?
+    Or, long ere manhood, will that angel fair,
+    Departing some sad day,
+    Steal the child-smile and leave the shadow care?
+
+    Nay, fear not. As is given
+    Unto this child the father watching o'er,
+    His angel up in heaven
+    Beholds Our Father's face for evermore.
+
+    And he will help him bear
+    His burthen, as his father helps him now;
+    So he may come to wear
+    That happy child-smile on an old man's brow.
+
+
+OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY
+
+          A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
+          'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
+          The level rows of houses tall,
+          The long low sun on the level wall
+          And all that the little bird did say
+          Was, "Over the hills and far away."
+
+          A little bird sang behind my chair,
+          From the level line of corn-fields fair,
+          The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
+          Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
+          And the level lawn where the sun all day
+          Burns:--"Over the hills and far away."
+
+          A little bird sings above my bed,
+          And I know if I could but lift my head
+          I would see the sun set, round and grand,
+          Upon level sea and level sand,
+          While beyond the misty distance gray
+          Is "Over the hills and far away."
+
+          I think that a little bird will sing
+          Over a grassy mound, next spring,
+          Where something that once was _me_, ye'll leave
+          In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
+          But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
+          Over the hills and far away.
+
+
+THE TWO RAINDROPS
+
+    SAID a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!
+    I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:
+    I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;
+    Swelling and filling and swelling again.
+
+    "All the little rain-drops unto me run,
+    I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:
+    All the pretty children stand and at me stare;
+    Pointing with their fingers--'That's the biggest drop there.'"
+
+    "Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;
+    "I don't myself see much cause for pride:
+    The bigger you swell up,--we know well, my friend,--
+    The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.
+
+    "For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,
+    Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;
+    Looking at the firelight and the children fair,--
+    Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."
+
+    "Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;
+    I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;
+    You'll run a race with me?--No?--Then 'tis plain
+    I am the largest drop in the whole pane."
+
+    Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:
+    Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:
+    Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,
+    Just reached the window-sill--one splash--and was o'er.
+
+
+THE YEAR'S END
+
+    SO grows the rising year, and so declines
+      By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end
+    Even as by slow and ever-varying signs
+      Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend
+      Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.
+
+    Great Father, who of every one takest care,
+      From him on whom full ninety years are piled
+    To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer
+      About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
+      Who children loves, being once himself a child,--
+
+    O make us day by day like Him to grow;
+      More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;
+    Because He loves those who obey Him so;
+      Because His love is the best thing to seek,
+      Because without His love, all loves are weak,--
+
+    All earthly joys are miserable and poor,
+      All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,
+    Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens--sure
+      That they will flourish--till in mid-day skies
+      The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.
+
+    O God, who art alone the life and light
+      Of this strange world to which as babes we come,
+    Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:
+      Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom
+      And at our year's end, Father, take us home.
+
+
+RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW
+
+          "WHY thus aside your playthings throw,
+          Over the wet lawn hurrying so?
+          Where are you going, I want to know?"
+            "I'm running after the rainbow."
+
+          "Little boy, with your bright brown eyes
+          Full of an innocent surprise,
+          Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,
+            What do you want with the rainbow?"
+
+          Arthur paused in his headlong race,
+          Turned to his mother his hot, young face,
+          "Mother, I want to reach the place
+            At either end of the rainbow.
+
+          "Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.
+          Such beautiful things may oft be found
+          Buried below, or scattered round,
+            If one can but catch the rainbow.
+
+          "O please don't hinder me, mother dear,
+          It will all be gone while I stay here;"
+          So with many a hope and not one fear,
+            The child ran after the rainbow.
+
+          Over the damp grass, ankle deep,
+          Clambering up the hilly steep,
+          And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,
+            But he couldn't catch the rainbow.
+
+          And when he came out at the wood's far side,
+          The sun was setting in golden pride,
+          There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,
+            But not a sign of the rainbow.
+
+          Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,
+          "I wish I had thought what mother meant;
+          I wish I had only been content,
+            And not ran after the rainbow."
+
+          And as he came sadly down the hill,
+          Stood mother scolding--but smiling still,
+          And hugged him up close, as mothers will:
+            So he quite forgot the rainbow.
+
+
+DICK AND I
+
+    WE'RE going to a party, my brother Dick and I:
+    The best, grandest party we ever did try:
+    And I'm very happy--but Dick is so shy!
+
+    I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,
+    And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:
+    Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!
+
+    There is to be music--a real soldier's band:
+    And _I_ mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,
+    Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.
+
+    But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:
+    Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try--
+    Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.
+
+    And I'm fond of my brother--this darling old Dick:
+    I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,
+    He's bad at a party--but at school he's a brick!
+
+    So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,
+    Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!
+    Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.
+
+    And his going to the party is just to please _me_,
+    Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!
+    But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."
+
+    That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.
+    Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;
+    I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.
+
+    And when he's a great man, a poet you see,
+    O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;
+    Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.
+
+
+GRANDPAPA
+
+    GRANDPAPA lives at the end of the lane,
+    His cottage is small and its furniture plain;
+    No pony to ride on, no equipage grand,--
+    A garden, and just half an acre of land;
+    No dainties to dine off, and very few toys,--
+    Yet is grandpapa's house the delight of the boys.
+
+    Grandpapa once lived in one little room,
+    Grandpapa worked all day long at his loom:
+    He speaks with queer accent, does dear grandpapa,
+    And not half so well as papa and mamma.
+    The girls think his clothes are a little rough,
+    But the boys all declare they can't love him enough.
+
+    A man of the people in manners and mind,
+    Yet so honest, so tender, so clever, so kind:
+    Makes the best of his lot still, where'er it be cast.
+    A sturdy old Englishman, game to the last.
+    Though simple and humble and unknown to fame,
+    It's good luck to the boys to bear grandpapa's name!
+
+
+MONSIEUR ET MADEMOISELLE.
+
+          DEUX petits enfants Francais,
+            Monsieur et Mademoiselle.
+          Of what can they be talking, child?
+            Indeed I cannot tell.
+          But of this I am very certain,
+            You would find naught to blame
+          In that sweet French politeness--
+            I wish we had the same.
+
+          Monsieur has got a melon,
+            And scoops it with his knife,
+          While Mademoiselle sits watching him:
+            No rudeness here--no strife:
+          Though could you listen only,
+            They're chattering like two pies--
+          French magpies, understand me--
+            So merry and so wise.
+
+          Their floor is bare of carpet,
+            Their curtains are so thin,
+          They dine on meagre _potage_, and
+            Put many an onion in!
+          Her snow-white caps she irons:
+            He blacks his shoes, he can;
+          Yet she's a little lady
+            And he's a gentleman.
+
+          O busy, happy children!
+            That light French heart of yours,
+          Would it might sometimes enter at
+            Our solemn English doors!
+          Would that we worked as gaily,
+            And played, yes, played as well,
+          And lived our lives as simply
+            As Monsieur et Mademoiselle.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+YOUNG DANDELION
+
+          YOUNG Dandelion
+            On a hedge-side,
+          Said young Dandelion,
+            "Who'll be my bride?
+
+          "I'm a bold fellow
+            As ever was seen,
+          With my shield of yellow,
+            In the grass green.
+
+          "You may uproot me,
+            From field and from lane,
+          Trample me, cut me,--
+            I spring up again.
+
+          "I never flinch, Sir,
+            Wherever I dwell;
+          Give me an inch, Sir.
+            I'll soon take an ell.
+
+          "Drive me from garden
+            In anger and pride,
+          I'll thrive and harden
+            By the road-side.
+
+          "Not a bit fearful,
+            Showing my face,
+          Always so cheerful
+            In every place."
+
+          Said young Dandelion,
+            With a sweet air,
+          "I have my eye on
+            Miss Daisy fair.
+
+          "Though we may tarry
+            Till past the cold,
+          Her I will marry
+            Ere I grow old.
+
+          "I will protect her
+            From all kinds of harm,
+          Feed her with nectar,
+            Shelter her warm.
+
+          "Whate'er the weather,
+            Let it go by;
+          We'll hold together,
+            Daisy and I.
+
+          "I'll ne'er give in,--no!
+            Nothing I fear:
+          All that I win, O!
+            I'll keep for my dear."
+
+          Said young Dandelion
+            On his hedge-side,
+          "Who'll me rely on?
+            Who'll be my bride?"
+
+
+A SEPTEMBER ROBIN
+
+    MY eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,
+          Amid these days so bright
+          Of ceaseless warmth and light;
+          Summer that will not die,
+          Autumn, without one sigh
+          O'er sweet hours passing by--
+          Cometh that tender note
+          Out of thy tiny throat,
+    Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,
+    O little plaintive bird!
+
+    No need of word
+    Well know I all your tale--forgotten bird!
+          Soon you and I together
+          Must face the winter weather,
+          Remembering how we sung
+          Our primrose fields among,
+          In days when life was young;
+          Now, all is growing old,
+          And the warm earth's a-cold,
+    Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,
+    Sing only. Not one word.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Text uses both tablecloth and table-cloth.
+
+Page 8, "tidiness,and" changed to "tidiness, and" (liked tidiness, and)
+
+Page 12, "agan" changed to "again" (to the table again)
+
+Page 25, "Gradener" changed to "Gardener" (cried the Gardener)
+
+Page 29, "shown" changed to "shone" (shone with dew)
+
+Page 32, "it" changed to "if" (as if the old)
+
+Page 36, "like" changed to "liked" (liked all young things)
+
+Page 35, "sate" changed to "state" (a pretty state of)
+
+Page 49, "it" changed to "if" (as if there was)
+
+Page 50, "f" changed to "if" (presently, if you)
+
+Page 57, "altogetherwas" changed to "altogether was" (altogether was
+such)
+
+Page 60, word "a" added to text (it was a bright)
+
+Page 68, "plaee" changed to "place" (place is bewitched)
+
+Page 71, illustration, "suddenl" changed to "suddenly" (ice suddenly
+broke)
+
+Page 78, "bakset" changed to "basket" (basket is too heavy)
+
+Page 78, "bolws" changed to "blows" (very hard blows)
+
+Page 79, "it" changed to "is" (is; that nasty)
+
+Page 80, "donwward" changed to "downward" (their necks downward)
+
+Page 97, "theives" changed to "thieves" (all young thieves)
+
+Page 99, "fairy a tale" changed to "a fairy tale" (you want a fairy
+tale)
+
+Page 113, "ma n" changed to "main" (with might and main)
+
+Page 116, "al" changed to "all" (you all the year)
+
+Page 116, "bui d" changed to "build" (build and woo)
+
+Page 116, "du t" changed to "dust" (crumble into dust)
+
+Page 116, "SMIL" changed to "SMILE" (A CHILD'S SMILE)
+
+Page 120, "hedgegrow's" changed to "hedgerow's" (hedgerow's level bound)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30494 ***
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+     table.five {width: 600px; text-align: center; background-image:
+     url("images/i022.jpg"); background-repeat: no-repeat;}
+     table.six {width: 600px; text-align: center; background-image:
+     url("images/i026.jpg"); background-repeat: no-repeat;}
+
+    .footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+    .footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
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+        bottom: 0.33em;
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+        text-decoration: none;}
+    .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;}
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+   .cap {text-align: justify;}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30494 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 452px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" />
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="435" height="600" alt="Frontispiece" title="" />
+</div><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;">
+<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="Title" title="" />
+</div><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1><span class="smcap">The Adventures of</span><br />
+
+<span class="smcap">A Brownie</span></h1>
+
+<h2>AS TOLD TO MY CHILD</h2>
+
+<h2>BY MISS MULOCK</h2>
+
+
+
+<h3>&middot;ILLUSTRATED&middot;</h3>
+
+<div class='center'>
+NEW YORK<br />
+McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS<br /></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class='copyright'>COPYRIGHTED&mdash;1908&mdash;BY McLOUGHLIN BROS.</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i004.png" width="500" height="156" alt="CONTENTS" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Adventure the First</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Cook</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Second</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Cherry-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Third</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie in the Farmyard</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Fourth</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie's Ride</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Fifth</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie on the Ice</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Sixth and Last</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Clothes</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Poems</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Blackbird and the Rooks</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Shaking of the Pear-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Wonderful Apple-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Jealous Boy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Story of the Birkenhead</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Birds in the Snow</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Little Comforter</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don't Be Afraid</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Girl and Boy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Agnes at Prayer</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Going to Work</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three Companions</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Motherless Child</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Wren's Nest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Child's Smile</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the Hills and Far Away</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Two Raindrops</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Year's End</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Running After the Rainbow</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dick and I</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Grandpapa</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Monsieur et Mademoiselle</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Young Dandelion</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A September Robin</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 232px;">
+<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="232" height="400" alt="Going home" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='center'><table class="one" summary="one">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>THE ADVENTURES OF A<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE<br /><br />
+ADVENTURE THE FIRST</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE COOK</div><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+<div class='cap'>THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived&mdash;where do you
+think he lived? in a coal-cellar.</div>
+
+<p>Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live
+in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature&mdash;a fairy, and yet not
+one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and
+dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to
+wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober,
+stay-at-home, household elf&mdash;nothing much to look at, even if you
+did see him, which you are not likely to do&mdash;only a little old man,
+about a foot high, all dressed in brown, with a brown face and hands,
+and a brown peaked cap, just the color of a brown mouse. And,
+like a mouse, he hides in corners&mdash;especially kitchen corners, and
+only comes out after dark when nobody is about, and so sometimes
+people call him Mr. Nobody.</p>
+
+<p>I said you were not likely to see him. I never did, certainly, and
+never knew any body that did; but still, if you were to go into Devonshire,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+you would hear many funny stories about Brownies in general,
+and so I may as well tell you the adventures of this particular Brownie,
+who belonged to a family there; which family he had followed from
+house to house, most faithfully, for years and years.</p>
+
+<p>A good many people had heard him&mdash;or supposed they had&mdash;when
+there were extraordinary noises about the house; noises which
+must have come from a mouse or a rat&mdash;or a Brownie. But nobody
+had ever seen him except the children&mdash;the three little boys and
+three little girls&mdash;who declared he often came to play with them when
+they were alone, and was the nicest companion in the world, though
+he was such an old man&mdash;hundreds of years old! He was full of fun
+and mischief, and up to all sorts of tricks, but he never did any body
+any harm unless they deserved it.</p>
+
+<p>Brownie was supposed to live under one particular coal, in the
+darkest corner of the cellar, which was never allowed to be disturbed.
+Why he had chosen it nobody knew, and how he lived there, nobody
+knew either, nor what he lived upon. Except that, ever since the
+family could remember, there had always been a bowl of milk put
+behind the coal-cellar door for the Brownie's supper. Perhaps he
+drank it&mdash;perhaps he didn't: anyhow, the bowl was always found
+empty next morning. The old Cook, who had lived all her life in
+the family, had never forgotten to give Brownie his supper; but at
+last she died, and a young cook came in her stead, who was very
+apt to forget every thing. She was also both careless and lazy, and
+disliked taking the trouble to put a bowl of milk in the same place
+every night for Mr. Nobody. "She didn't believe in Brownies,"
+she said; "she had never seen one, and seeing's believing." So she
+laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave, and put the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying much
+about it.</p>
+
+<p>But once, when Brownie woke up, at his usual hour for rising&mdash;ten
+o'clock at night, and looked round in search of his supper&mdash;which
+was, in fact, his breakfast&mdash;he found nothing there. At first
+he could not imagine such neglect, and went smelling and smelling
+about for his bowl of milk&mdash;it was not always placed in the same
+corner now&mdash;but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"This will never do," said he; and being extremely hungry, began
+running about the coal-cellar to see what he could find. His eyes
+were as useful in the dark as in the light&mdash;like a pussy-cat's; but
+there was nothing to be seen&mdash;not even a potato paring, or a dry
+crust, or a well-gnawed bone, such as Tiny the terrier sometimes
+brought into the coal-cellar and left on the floor&mdash;nothing, in short,
+but heaps of coals and coal-dust; and even a Brownie cannot eat
+that, you know.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't stand this; quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening
+his belt to make his poor little inside feel less empty. He had been
+asleep so long&mdash;about a week, I believe, as was his habit when there
+was nothing to do&mdash;that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his
+boots, or any thing. 'What's to be done? Since nobody brings
+my supper, I must go and fetch it.'</p>
+
+<p>He spoke quickly, for he always thought quickly, and made up
+his mind in a minute. To be sure it was a very little mind,
+like his little body; but he did the best he could with it, and
+was not a bad sort of old fellow, after all. In the house he had
+never done any harm, and often some good, for he frightened away
+all the rats, mice, and black-beetles. Not the crickets&mdash;he liked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+them, as the old Cook had done: she said they were such cheerful
+creatures, and always brought luck to the house. But the young
+Cook could not bear them, and used to pour boiling water down their
+holes, and set basins of beer for them with little wooden bridges up
+to the brim, that they might walk up, tumble in, and be drowned.</p>
+
+<p>So there was not even a cricket singing in the silent house when
+Brownie put his head out of his coal-cellar door, which, to his surprise,
+he found open. Old Cook used to lock it every night, but the
+young Cook had left that key, and the kitchen and pantry keys too,
+all dangling in the lock, so that any thief might have got in, and
+wandered all over the house without being found out.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the
+air, and bounding right through the scullery into the kitchen. It
+was quite empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out&mdash;just
+for its own amusement, and the remains of a capital supper spread
+on the table&mdash;enough for half a dozen people being left still.</p>
+
+<p>Would you like to know what there was? Devonshire cream, of
+course; and part of a large dish of junket, which is something like
+curds and whey. Lots of bread-and-butter and cheese, and half
+an apple-pudding. Also a great jug of cider and another of milk, and
+several half-full glasses, and no end of dirty plates, knives, and forks.
+All were scattered about the table in the most untidy fashion, just
+as the servants had risen from their supper, without thinking to put
+any thing away.</p>
+
+<p>Brownie screwed up his little old face and turned up his button
+of a nose, and gave a long whistle. You might not believe it, seeing
+he lived in a coal-cellar; but really he liked <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'tidiness,and'">tidiness, and</ins> always played
+his pranks upon disorderly or slovenly folk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 347px;">
+<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="347" height="500" alt="He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!&mdash;Page 11" title="" />
+<span class="caption">He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!&mdash;Page 11</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Whew!" said he; "here's a chance. What a supper I'll get
+now!"</p>
+
+<p>And he jumped on to a chair and thence to the table, but so quietly
+that the large black cat with four white paws, called Muff, because
+she was so fat and soft and her fur so long, who sat dozing in front
+of the fire, just opened one eye and went to sleep again. She had
+tried to get her nose into the milk-jug, but it was too small; and the
+junket-dish was too deep for her to reach, except with one paw. She
+didn't care much for bread and cheese and apple-pudding, and was
+very well fed besides; so, after just wandering round the table, she
+had jumped down from it again, and settled herself to sleep on the
+hearth.</p>
+
+<p>But Brownie had no notion of going to sleep. He wanted his
+supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat! first one thing and then
+another, and then trying every thing all over again. And oh! what
+a lot he drank&mdash;first milk and then cider, and then mixed the two
+together in a way that would have disagreed with any body except
+a Brownie. As it was, he was obliged to slacken his belt several
+times, and at last took it off altogether. But he must have had a most
+extraordinary capacity for eating and drinking&mdash;since, after he had
+nearly cleared the table, he was just as lively as if he had had no
+supper at all.</p>
+
+<p>Now his jumping was a little awkward, for there happened to be
+a clean white tablecloth: as this was only Monday, it had had no
+time to get dirty&mdash;untidy as the Cook was. And you know Brownie
+lived in a coal-cellar, and his feet were black with running about in
+coal dust. So wherever he trod, he left the impression behind, until
+at last the whole tablecloth was covered with black marks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Not that he minded this; in fact, he took great pains to make the
+cloth as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, "Ho, ho, ho!"
+leaped on to the hearth, and began teasing the cat; squeaking like a
+mouse, or chirping like a cricket, or buzzing like a fly; and altogether
+disturbing poor Pussy's mind so much, that she went and hid herself
+in the farthest corner, and left him the hearth all to himself, where
+he lay at ease till daybreak.</p>
+
+<p>Then, hearing a slight noise overhead, which might be the servants
+getting up, he jumped on to the table <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'agan'">again</ins>&mdash;gobbled up the
+few remaining crumbs for his breakfast, and scampered off to his
+coal-cellar; where he hid himself under his big coal, and fell asleep
+for the day.</p>
+
+<p>Well, the Cook came downstairs rather earlier than usual, for she
+remembered she had to clear off the remains of supper; but lo and
+behold, there was nothing left to clear. Every bit of food was eaten
+up&mdash;the cheese looked as if a dozen mice had been nibbling at it,
+and nibbled it down to the very rind; the milk and cider were all
+drunk&mdash;and mice don't care for milk and cider, you know. As for
+the apple-pudding, it had vanished altogether; and the dish was
+licked as clean as if Boxer, the yard-dog, had been at it in his hungriest
+mood.</p>
+
+<p>"And my white table-cloth&mdash;oh, my clean white table-cloth!
+What can have been done to it?" cried she, in amazement. For it
+was all over little black footmarks, just the size of a baby's foot&mdash;only
+babies don't wear shoes with nails in them, and don't run about
+and climb on kitchen tables after all the family have gone to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Cook was a little frightened; but her fright changed to anger when
+she saw the large black cat stretched comfortably on the hearth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+Poor Muff had crept there for a little snooze after Brownie went
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"You nasty cat! I see it all now; it's you that have eaten up all
+the supper; it's you that have been on my clean table-cloth with
+your dirty paws."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 182px;">
+<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="182" height="350" alt="Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>They were white paws, and as
+clean as possible; but the Cook
+never thought of that, any more
+than she did of the fact that cats
+don't usually drink cider or eat
+apple-pudding.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll teach you to come stealing
+food in this way; take that&mdash;and
+that&mdash;and that!"</p>
+
+<p>Cook got hold of a broom and
+beat poor Pussy till the creature
+ran mewing away. She couldn't
+speak, you know&mdash;unfortunate
+cat! and tell people that it was
+Brownie who had done it all.</p>
+
+<p>Next night Cook thought she
+would make all safe and sure; so,
+instead of letting the cat sleep by
+the fire, she shut her up in the chilly coal-cellar, locked the door,
+put the key in her pocket, and went off to bed&mdash;leaving the
+supper as before.</p>
+
+<p>When Brownie woke up and looked out of his hole, there was, as
+usual, no supper for him, and the cellar was close shut. He peered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+about, to try and find some cranny under the door to creep out at,
+but there was none. And he felt so hungry that he could almost
+have eaten the cat, who kept walking to and fro in a melancholy
+manner&mdash;only she was alive, and he couldn't well eat her alive:
+besides, he knew she was old, and had an idea she might be tough;
+so he merely said, politely, "How do you do, Mrs. Pussy?" to which
+she answered nothing&mdash;of course.</p>
+
+<p>Something must be done, and luckily Brownies can do things
+which nobody else can do. So he thought he would change himself
+into a mouse, and gnaw a hole through the door. But then he suddenly
+remembered the cat, who, though he had decided not to eat
+her, might take this opportunity of eating him. So he thought it
+advisable to wait till she was fast asleep, which did not happen for
+a good while. At length, quite tired with walking about, Pussy
+turned round on her tail six times, curled down in a corner, and fell
+fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately Brownie changed himself into the smallest mouse
+possible; and, taking care not to make the least noise, gnawed a
+hole in the door, and squeezed himself through, immediately turning
+into his proper shape again, for fear of accidents.</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen fire was at its last glimmer; but it showed a better
+supper than even last night, for the Cook had had friends with her&mdash;a
+brother and two cousins&mdash;and they had been exceedingly merry.
+The food they had left behind was enough for three Brownies at
+least, but this one managed to eat it all up. Only once, in trying to
+cut a great slice of beef, he let the carving-knife and fork fall with
+such a clatter, that Tiny the terrier, who was tied up at the foot of
+the stairs, began to bark furiously. However, he brought her her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+puppy, which had been left in a basket in a corner of the kitchen, and
+so succeeded in quieting her.</p>
+
+<p>After that he enjoyed himself amazingly, and made more marks
+than ever on the white table-cloth; for he began jumping about like
+a pea on a trencher, in order to make his particularly large supper
+agree with him.</p>
+
+<p>Then, in the absence of the cat, he teased the puppy for an hour or
+two, till hearing the clock strike five, he thought it as well to turn into
+a mouse again, and creep back cautiously into his cellar. He was
+only just in time, for Muff opened one eye, and was just going to
+pounce upon him, when he changed himself back into a Brownie.
+She was so startled that she bounded away, her tail growing into
+twice its natural size, and her eyes gleaming like round green globes.
+But Brownie only said, "Ha, ha, ho!" and walked deliberately into
+his hole.</p>
+
+<p>When Cook came downstairs and saw that the same thing had
+happened again&mdash;that the supper was all eaten, and the table-cloth
+blacker than ever with the extraordinary footmarks, she was greatly
+puzzled. Who could have done it all? Not the cat, who came mewing
+out of the coal-cellar the minute she unlocked the door. Possibly
+a rat&mdash;but then would a rat have come within reach of Tiny?</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been Tiny herself, or her puppy," which just came
+rolling out of its basket over Cook's feet. "You little wretch! You
+and your mother are the greatest nuisance imaginable. I'll punish
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>And, quite forgetting that Tiny had been safely tied up all night,
+and that her poor little puppy was so fat and helpless it could scarcely
+stand on its legs, to say nothing of jumping on chairs and tables,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+she gave them both such a thrashing that they ran howling together
+out of the kitchen door, where the kind little kitchen-maid took
+them up in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have beaten the Brownie, if you could catch him,"
+said she, in a whisper. "He will do it again and again, you'll see,
+for he can't bear an untidy kitchen. You'd better do as poor old
+Cook did, and clear the supper things away, and put the odds and
+ends safe in the larder; also," she added, mysteriously, "if I were
+you, I'd put a bowl of milk behind the coal-cellar door."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" answered the young Cook, and flounced away.
+But afterward she thought better of it, and did as she was advised,
+grumbling all the time, but doing it.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the milk was gone! Perhaps Brownie had drunk
+it up, anyhow nobody could say that he hadn't. As for the supper,
+Cook having safely laid it on the shelves of the larder, nobody touched
+it. And the table-cloth, which was wrapped up tidily and put in the
+dresser drawer, came out as clean as ever, with not a single black
+footmark upon it. No mischief being done, the cat and the dog
+both escaped beating, and Brownie played no more tricks with
+any body&mdash;till the next time.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/i009.png" width="250" height="154" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'><table class="two" summary="two">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE SECOND</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE CHERRY-TREE</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE "next time" was quick in
+coming, which was not wonderful,
+considering there was a Brownie in the house. Otherwise the
+house was like most other houses, and the family like most other
+families. The children also: they were sometimes good, sometimes
+naughty, like other children; but, on the whole, they deserved to
+have the pleasure of a Brownie to play with them, as they declared
+he did&mdash;many and many a time.</div>
+
+<p>A favorite play-place was the orchard, where grew the biggest
+cherry-tree you ever saw. They called it their "castle," because
+it rose up ten feet from the ground in one thick stem, and then branched
+out into a circle of boughs, with a flat place in the middle, where two
+or three children could sit at once. There they often did sit, turn
+by turn, or one at a time&mdash;sometimes with a book, reading; and the
+biggest boy made a sort of rope-ladder by which they could climb up
+and down&mdash;which they did all winter, and enjoyed their "castle"
+very much.</p>
+
+<p>But one day in spring they found their ladder cut away! The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+Gardener had done it, saying it injured the tree, which was just
+coming into blossom. Now this Gardener was a rather gruff man,
+with a growling voice. He did not mean to be unkind, but he disliked
+children; he said they bothered him. But when they complained
+to their mother about the ladder, she agreed with Gardener
+that the tree must not be injured, as it bore the biggest cherries in
+all the neighborhood&mdash;so big that the old saying of "taking two
+bites at a cherry," came really true.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till the cherries are ripe," said she; and so the little people
+waited, and watched it through its leafing and blossoming&mdash;such
+sheets of blossom, white as snow!&mdash;till the fruit began to show, and
+grew large and red on every bough.</p>
+
+<p>At last one morning the mother said, "Children, should you like
+to help gather the cherries to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!" they cried, "and not a day too soon; for we saw a
+flock of starlings in the next field&mdash;and if we don't clear the tree,
+they will."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; clear it, then. Only mind and fill my basket quite
+full, for preserving. What is over you may eat, if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, thank you!" and the children were eager to be off;
+but the mother stopped them till she could get the Gardener and
+his ladder.</p>
+
+<p>"For it is he must climb the tree, not you; and you must do exactly
+as he tells you; and he will stop with you all the time and see that
+you don't come to harm."</p>
+
+<p>This was no slight cloud on the children's happiness, and they
+begged hard to go alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, might we? We will be so good!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i011.jpg" width="500" height="259" alt="When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the cherry-tree" title="" />
+<span class="caption">When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the cherry-tree</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The mother shook her head. All the goodness in the world would
+not help them if they tumbled off the tree, or ate themselves sick with
+cherries. "You would not be safe, and I should be so unhappy!"</p>
+
+<p>To make mother "unhappy" was the worst rebuke possible to
+these children; so they choked down their disappointment, and
+followed the Gardener as he walked on ahead, carrying his ladder
+on his shoulder. He looked very cross, and as if he did not like the
+children's company at all.</p>
+
+<p>They were pretty good, on the whole, though they chattered
+a good deal; but Gardener said not a word to them all the way to
+the orchard. When they reached it, he just told them to "keep out
+of his way and not worrit him," which they politely promised, saying
+among themselves that they should not enjoy their cherry-gathering
+at all. But children who make the best of things, and
+try to be as good as they can, sometimes have fun unawares.</p>
+
+<p>When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk
+of the cherry-tree, there was suddenly heard the barking of a dog,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+and a very fierce dog, too. First it seemed close beside them, then
+in the flower-garden, then in the fowl-yard.</p>
+
+<p>Gardener dropped the ladder out of his hands. "It's that Boxer!
+He has got loose again! He will be running after my chickens,
+and dragging his broken chain all over my borders. And he is so
+fierce, and so delighted to get free. He'll bite any body who ties
+him up, except me."</p>
+
+<p>"Hadn't you better you go and see after him?"</p>
+
+<p>Gardener thought it was the eldest boy who spoke, and turned
+round angrily; but the little fellow had never opened his lips.</p>
+
+<p>Here there was heard a still louder bark, and from a quite different
+part of the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"There he is&mdash;I'm sure of it! jumping over my bedding-out
+plants, and breaking my cucumber frames. Abominable beast!&mdash;just
+let me catch him!" Off Gardener darted in a violent passion,
+throwing the ladder down upon the grass, and forgetting all about
+the cherries and the children.</p>
+
+<p>The instant he was gone, a shrill laugh, loud and merry, was heard
+close by, and a little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.</p>
+
+<p>"How d'ye do?&mdash;Boxer was me. Didn't I bark well? Now
+I'm come to play with you."</p>
+
+<p>The children clapped their hands; for they knew they were going
+to have some fun if Brownie was there&mdash;he was the best little playfellow
+in the world. And then they had him all to themselves.
+Nobody ever saw him except the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's,
+half like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 414px;">
+<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="A little brown old man&#39;s face peeped from behind the cherry-tree.&mdash;Page 20" title="" />
+<span class="caption">A little brown old man&#39;s face peeped from behind the cherry-tree.&mdash;Page 20</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the
+branches sprang, and besides, their mother had said they were not
+to climb. And the ladder lay flat upon the grass&mdash;far too heavy
+for little hands to move.</p>
+
+<p>"What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to
+lift the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you."</p>
+
+<p>Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the
+ladder than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite
+safely against the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"But we must not climb&mdash;mother told us not," said the boys,
+ruefully. "Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick
+up the cherries."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself."</p>
+
+<p>Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie darted up the
+ladder like a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.</p>
+
+<p>The children looked dismayed for a minute, till they saw a merry
+brown face peeping out from the green leaves at the very top of
+the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"Biggest fruit always grows highest," cried the Brownie. "Stand
+in a row, all you children. Little boys, hold out your caps: little
+girls, make a bag of your pinafores. Open your mouths and shut
+your eyes, and see what the queen will send you."</p>
+
+<p>They laughed and did as they were told; whereupon they were
+drowned in a shower of cherries&mdash;cherries falling like hailstones,
+hitting them on their heads, their cheeks, their noses&mdash;filling their
+caps and pinafores, and then rolling and tumbling on to the grass,
+till it was strewn thick as leaves in autumn with the rosy fruit.</p>
+
+<p>What a glorious scramble they had&mdash;these three little boys and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+three little girls! How they laughed and jumped and knocked
+their heads together in picking up the cherries, yet never quarreled&mdash;for
+there were such heaps, it would have been ridiculous to squabble
+over them; and besides, whenever they began to quarrel, Brownie
+always ran away. Now he was the merriest of the lot; ran up and
+down the tree like a cat, helped to pick up the cherries, and was
+first-rate at filling the large market-basket.</p>
+
+<p>"We were to eat as many as we liked, only we must first fill the
+basket," conscientiously said the eldest girl; upon which they all set
+to at once, and filled it to the brim.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll have a dinner-party," cried the Brownie; and squatted
+down like a Turk, crossed his queer little legs, and sticking his
+elbows upon his knees, in a way that nobody but a Brownie could manage.
+"Sit in a ring! sit in a ring! and we'll see who can eat fastest."</p>
+
+<p>The children obeyed. How many cherries they devoured, and
+how fast they did it, passes my capacity of telling. I only hope they
+were not ill next day, and that all the cherry-stones they swallowed
+by mistake did not disagree with them. But perhaps nothing does
+disagree with one when one dines with a Brownie. They ate so
+much, laughing in equal proportion, that they had quite forgotten
+the Gardener&mdash;when, all of a sudden, they heard him clicking angrily
+the orchard gate, and talking to himself as he walked through.</p>
+
+<p>"That nasty dog! It wasn't Boxer, after all. A nice joke! to
+find him quietly asleep in his kennel after having hunted him, as I
+thought, from one end of the garden to the other! Now for the
+cherries and the children&mdash;bless us, where are the children? And
+the cherries? Why, the tree is as bare as a blackthorn in February!
+The starlings have been at it, after all. Oh dear! oh dear!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" echoed a voice from behind the tree, followed
+by shouts of mocking laughter. Not from the children&mdash;they sat
+as demure as possible, all in a ring, with their hands before them,
+and in the centre the huge basket of cherries, piled as full as it could
+possibly hold. But the Brownie had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"You naughty brats, I'll have you punished!" cried the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Gradener'">Gardener</ins>,
+furious at the laughter, for he never laughed himself. But as there
+was nothing wrong; the cherries being gathered&mdash;a very large crop&mdash;and
+the ladder found safe in its place&mdash;it was difficult to say what
+had been the harm done and who had done it.</p>
+
+<p>So he went growling back to the house, carrying the cherries to
+the mistress, who coaxed him into good temper again, as she sometimes
+did; bidding also the children to behave well to him, since
+he was an old man, and not really bad&mdash;only cross. As for the
+little folks, she had not the slightest intention of punishing them;
+and, as for Brownie, it was impossible to catch him. So nobody
+was punished at all.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/i013.png" width="300" height="128" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'><table class="three" summary="three">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE THIRD</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE IN THE FARMYARD</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>WHICH was a place where he
+did not often go, for he
+preferred being warm and snug in the house. But when he felt
+himself ill-used, he would wander anywhere, in order to play tricks
+upon those whom he thought had done him harm; for, being only a
+Brownie, and not a man, he did not understand that the best way
+to revenge yourself upon your enemies is either to let them alone or
+to pay them back good for evil&mdash;it disappoints them so much, and
+makes them so exceedingly ashamed of themselves.</div>
+
+<p>One day Brownie overheard the Gardener advising the Cook to
+put sour milk into his bowl at night, instead of sweet.</p>
+
+<p>"He'd never find out the difference, no more than the pigs do.
+Indeed, it's my belief that a pig, or dog, or something, empties the bowl,
+and not a Brownie, at all. It's just clean waste&mdash;that's what I say."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you'd better hold your tongue, and mind your own business,"
+returned the Cook, who was of a sharp temper, and would
+not stand being meddled with. She began to abuse the Gardener
+soundly; but his wife, who was standing by, took his part, as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+always did when any third party scolded him. So they all squabbled
+together, till Brownie, hid under his coal, put his little hands over
+his little ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me, what a noise these mortals do make when they quarrel!
+They quite deafen me. I must teach them better manners."</p>
+
+<p>But when the Cook slammed the door to, and left Gardener and
+his wife alone, they too began to dispute between themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"You make such a fuss over your nasty pigs, and get all the scraps
+for them," said the wife. "It's of much more importance that I
+should have everything Cook can spare for my chickens. Never
+were such fine chickens as my last brood!"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought they were ducklings."</p>
+
+<p>"How you catch me up, you rude old man! They are ducklings,
+and beauties, too&mdash;even though they have never seen water. Where's
+the pond you promised to make for me, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rubbish, woman! If my cows do without a pond, your ducklings
+may. And why will you be so silly as to rear ducklings at all?
+Fine fat chickens are a deal better. You'll find out your mistake
+some day."</p>
+
+<p>"And so will you when that old Alderney runs dry. You'll wish
+you had taken my advice, and fattened and sold her."</p>
+
+<p>"Alderney cows won't sell for fattening, and women's advice is
+never worth twopence. Yours isn't worth even a half-penny. What
+are you laughing at?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't laughing," said the wife, angrily; and, in truth, it was
+not she, but little Brownie, running under the barrow which the
+Gardener was wheeling along, and very much amused that people
+should be so silly as to squabble about nothing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was still early morning; for, whatever this old couple's faults
+might be, laziness was not one of them. The wife rose with the
+dawn to feed her poultry and collect her eggs; the husband also got
+through as much work by breakfast-time as many an idle man
+does by noon. But Brownie had been beforehand with them this
+day.</p>
+
+<p>When all the fowls came running to be fed, the big Brahma hen
+who had watched the ducklings was seen wandering forlornly about,
+and clucking mournfully for her young brood&mdash;she could not find
+them anywhere. Had she been able to speak, she might have told
+how a large white Aylesbury duck had waddled into the farmyard,
+and waddled out again, coaxing them after her, no doubt in search
+of a pond. But missing they were, most certainly.</p>
+
+<p>"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" mourned the miserable hen-mother&mdash;and,
+"Oh, my ducklings, my ducklings!" cried the Gardener's wife&mdash;"Who
+can have carried off my beautiful ducklings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rats, maybe," said the Gardener, cruelly, as he walked away.
+And as he went he heard the squeak of a rat below his wheelbarrow.
+But he could not catch it, any more than his wife could catch the
+Aylesbury duck. Of course not. Both were&mdash;the Brownie!</p>
+
+<p>Just at this moment the six little people came running into the
+farmyard. When they had been particularly good, they were sometimes
+allowed to go with Gardener a-milking, each carrying his or
+her own mug for a drink of milk, warm from the cow. They scampered
+after him&mdash;a noisy tribe, begging to be taken down to the field,
+and holding out their six mugs entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"What! six cupfuls of milk, when I haven't a drop to spare, and
+Cook is always wanting more? Ridiculous nonsense! Get along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+with you; you may come to the field&mdash;I can't hinder that&mdash;but you'll
+get no milk to-day. Take your mugs back again to the kitchen."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i015.jpg" width="500" height="255" alt="A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The poor little folks made the best of a bad business, and obeyed;
+then followed Gardener down to the field, rather dolefully. But
+it was such a beautiful morning that they soon recovered their spirits.
+The grass <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'shown'">shone</ins> with dew, like a sheet of diamonds, the clover
+smelled so sweet, and two skylarks were singing at one another
+high up in the sky. Several rabbits darted past, to their great
+amusement, especially one very large rabbit&mdash;brown, not gray&mdash;which
+dodged them in and out, and once nearly threw Gardener
+down, pail and all, by running across his feet; which set them all
+laughing, till they came where Dolly, the cow, lay chewing the cud
+under a large oak-tree.</p>
+
+<p>It was great fun to stir her up, as usual, and lie down, one after
+the other, in the place where she had lain all night long, making
+the grass flat, and warm, and perfumy with her sweet breath. She
+let them do it, and then stood meekly by; for Dolly was the gentlest
+cow in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But this morning something strange seemed to possess her. She
+altogether refused to be milked&mdash;kicked, plunged, tossed over the
+pail, which was luckily empty.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless the cow! what's wrong with her? It's surely you children's
+fault. Stand off, the whole lot of you. Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!"</p>
+
+<p>But Dolly was any thing but good. She stood switching her tail,
+and looking as savage as so mild an animal possibly could look.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all your doing, you naughty children! You have been
+playing her some trick, I know," cried the Gardener, in great wrath.</p>
+
+<p>They assured him they had done nothing, and indeed, they looked
+as quiet as mice and as innocent as lambs. At length the biggest
+boy pointed out a large wasp which had settled in Dolly's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"That accounts for everything," said the Gardener.</p>
+
+<p>But it did not mend everything; for when he tried to drive it away
+it kept coming back and back again, and buzzing round his own
+head and the cow's with a voice that the children thought was less
+like a buzz of a wasp than the sound of a person laughing. At
+length it frightened Dolly to such an extent that, with one wild
+bound she darted right away, and galloped off to the farther end of
+the field.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get a rope and tie her legs together," cried the Gardener,
+fiercely. "She shall repent giving me all this trouble&mdash;that she
+shall!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed somebody. The Gardener thought it
+was the children, and gave one of them an angry cuff as he walked
+away. But they knew it was somebody else, and were not at all
+surprised when, the minute his back was turned, Dolly came walking
+quietly back, led by a little wee brown man who scarcely reached up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+to her knees. Yet she let him guide her, which he did as gently
+as possible, though the string he held her by was no thicker than a
+spider web, floating from one of her horns.</p>
+
+<p>"Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!" cried Brownie, mimicking the Gardener's
+voice. "Now we'll see what we can do. I want my breakfast
+badly&mdash;don't you, little folks?"</p>
+
+<p>Of course they did, for the morning air made them very hungry.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well&mdash;wait a bit, though. Old people should be served
+first, you know. Besides, I want to go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to bed in the daylight!" The children all laughed, and then
+looked quite shy and sorry, lest they might have seemed rude to
+the little Brownie. But he&mdash;he liked fun; and never took offence
+when none was meant.</p>
+
+<p>He placed himself on the milking-stool, which was so high that
+his little legs were dangling half-way down, and milked and milked&mdash;Dolly
+standing as still as possible&mdash;till he had filled the whole pail.
+Most astonishing cow! she gave as much as two cows; and such
+delicious milk as it was&mdash;all frothing and yellow&mdash;richer than even
+Dolly's milk had ever been before. The children's mouths watered
+for it, but not a word said they&mdash;even when, instead of giving it to
+them, Brownie put his own mouth to the pail, and drank and drank,
+till it seemed as if he were never going to stop. But it was decidedly
+a relief to them when he popped his head up again, and lo! the pail
+was as full as ever!</p>
+
+<p>"Now, little ones, now's your turn. Where are your mugs?"</p>
+
+<p>All answered mournfully, "We've got none. Gardener made us
+take them back again."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind&mdash;all right. Gather me half a dozen of the biggest
+buttercups you can find."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What nonsense!" thought the children; but they did it. Brownie
+laid the flowers in a row upon the eldest girl's lap&mdash;blew upon them
+one by one, and each turned into the most beautiful golden cup that
+ever was seen!</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, every one take his own mug, and I'll fill it."</p>
+
+<p>He milked away&mdash;each child got a drink, and then the cups were
+filled again. And all the while Dolly stood as quiet as possible&mdash;looking
+benignly round, as if she would be happy to supply milk to
+the whole parish, if the Brownie desired it.</p>
+
+<p>"Soh, Dolly! Thank you, Dolly!" said he, again, mimicking the
+Gardener's voice, half growling, half coaxing. And while he spoke,
+the real voice was heard behind the hedge. There was a sound
+as of a great wasp flying away, which made Dolly prick up her ears,
+and look as <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">if</ins> the old savageness was coming back upon her. The
+children snatched up their mugs, but there was no need, they had all
+turned into buttercups again.</p>
+
+<p>Gardener jumped over the stile, as cross as two sticks, with an old
+rope in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a bother I've had! Breakfast ready, and no milk yet&mdash;and
+such a row as they are making over those lost ducklings.
+Stand back, you children, and don't hinder me a minute. No use
+begging&mdash;not a drop of milk shall you get. Hillo, Dolly? Quiet
+old girl!"</p>
+
+<p>Quiet enough she was this time&mdash;but you might as well have milked
+a plaster cow in a London milking-shop. Not one ringing drop
+resounded against the empty pail; for, when they peeped in, the
+children saw, to their amazement, that it was empty.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 420px;">
+<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled again.&mdash;Page 32" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled again.&mdash;Page 32</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The creature's bewitched!" cried the Gardener, in a great fury.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+"Or else somebody has milked her dry already. Have you done it?
+or you?" he asked each of the children.</p>
+
+<p>They might have said No&mdash;which was the literal truth&mdash;but then
+it would not have been the whole truth, for they knew quite well that
+Dolly had been milked, and also who had done it. And their mother
+had always taught them that to make a person believe a lie is nearly
+as bad as telling him one. Yet still they did not like to betray the
+kind little Brownie. Greatly puzzled, they hung their heads and
+said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Look in your pail again," cried a voice from the other side of
+Dolly. And there at the bottom was just the usual quantity of milk&mdash;no
+more and no less.</p>
+
+<p>The Gardener was very much astonished. "It must be the
+Brownie!" muttered he, in a frightened tone; and, taking off his hat,
+"Thank you, sir," said he to Mr. Nobody&mdash;at which the children
+all burst out laughing. But they kept their own counsel, and he
+was afraid to ask them any more questions.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by his fright wore off a little. "I only hope the milk is
+good milk, and will poison nobody," said he, sulkily. "However,
+that's not my affair. You children had better tell your mother all
+about it. I left her in the farmyard in a pretty <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'sate'">state</ins> of mind about
+her ducklings."</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Brownie heard this, and was sorry, for he liked the children's
+mother, who had always been kind to him. Besides, he
+never did any body harm who did not deserve it; and though, being
+a Brownie, he could hardly be said to have a conscience, he had
+something which stood in the place of one&mdash;a liking to see people
+happy rather than miserable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So, instead of going to bed under his big coal for the day, when,
+after breakfast, the children and their mother came out to look at a
+new brood of chickens, he crept after them and hid behind the hencoop
+where the old mother-hen was put, with her young ones round
+her.</p>
+
+<p>There had been great difficulty in getting her in there, for she was
+a hen who hatched her brood on independent principles. Instead
+of sitting upon the nice nest that the Gardener made for her, she
+had twice gone into a little wood close by and made a nest for herself,
+which nobody could ever find; and where she hatched in secret,
+coming every second day to be fed, and then vanishing again, till at
+last she re-appeared in triumph, with her chickens running after her.
+The first brood there had been twelve, but of this there were fourteen&mdash;all
+from her own eggs, of course, and she was uncommonly proud
+of them. So was the Gardener, so was the mistress&mdash;who <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'like'">liked</ins> all
+young things. Such a picture as they were! fourteen soft, yellow,
+fluffy things, running about after their mother. It had been a most
+troublesome business to catch&mdash;first her, and then them, to put them
+under the coop. The old hen resisted, and pecked furiously at
+Gardener's legs, and the chickens ran about in frantic terror, chirping
+wildly in answer to her clucking.</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, the little family was safe in shelter, and the
+chickens counted over, to see that none had been lost in the scuffle.
+How funny they were! looking so innocent and yet so wise, as chickens
+do&mdash;peering out at the world from under their mother's wing, or
+hopping over her back, or snuggled all together under her breast,
+so that nothing was seen of them but a mass of yellow legs, like a
+great centiped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How happy the old hen is," said the children's mother, looking
+on, and then looking compassionately at that other forlorn old hen,
+who had hatched the ducklings, and kept wandering about the farmyard,
+clucking miserably, "Those poor ducklings, what can have
+become of them? If rats had killed them, we should have found
+feathers or something; and weasels would have sucked their brains
+and left them. They must have been stolen, or wandered away,
+and died of cold and hunger&mdash;my poor ducklings!"</p>
+
+<p>The mistress sighed, for she could not bear any living thing to
+suffer. And the children nearly cried at the thought of what might
+be happening to their pretty ducklings. That very minute a little
+wee brown face peered through a hole in the hencoop, making the
+old mother-hen fly furiously at it&mdash;as she did at the slightest shadow
+of an enemy to her little ones. However, no harm happened&mdash;only
+a guinea-fowl suddenly ran across the farmyard, screaming in its
+usual harsh voice. But it was not the usual sort of guinea-fowl,
+being larger and handsomer than any of theirs.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a beauty of a creature! how did it ever come into our
+farmyard," cried the delighted children; and started off after it, to
+catch it if possible.</p>
+
+<p>But they ran, and they ran&mdash;through the gate and out into the
+lane; and the guinea-fowl still ran on before them, until, turning
+round a corner, they lost sight of it, and immediately saw something
+else, equally curious. Sitting on the top of a big thistle&mdash;so big
+that he must have had to climb it just like a tree&mdash;was the Brownie.
+His legs were crossed, and his arms too, his little brown cap was stuck
+knowingly on one side, and he was laughing heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do? Here I am again. I thought I wouldn't go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+to bed after all. Shall I help you to find the ducklings? Very
+well! come along."</p>
+
+<p>They crossed the field, Brownie running beside them, and as fast
+as they could, though he looked such an old man; and sometimes
+turning over on legs and arms like a Catherine wheel&mdash;which they
+tried to imitate, but generally failed, and only bruised their fingers
+and noses.</p>
+
+<p>He lured them on and on till they came to the wood, and to a green
+path in it, which well as they knew the neighborhood, none of the
+children had ever seen before. It led to a most beautiful pond, as
+clear as crystal and as blue as the sky. Large trees grew round it,
+dipping their branches in the water, as if they were looking at themselves
+in a glass. And all about their roots were quantities of primroses&mdash;the
+biggest primroses the little girls had ever seen. Down
+they dropped on their fat knees, squashing more primroses than
+they gathered, though they tried to gather them all; and the smallest
+child even began to cry because her hands were so full that the
+flowers dropped through her fingers. But the boys, older and more
+practical, rather despised primroses.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought we had come to look for ducklings," said the eldest.
+"Mother is fretting dreadfully about her ducklings. Where can
+they be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shut your eyes, and you'll see," said the Brownie, at which they
+all laughed, but did it; and when they opened their eyes again, what
+should they behold but a whole fleet of ducklings sailing out from
+the roots of an old willow-tree, one after the other, looking as fat
+and content as possible, and swimming as naturally as if they had
+lived on a pond&mdash;and this particularly pond, all their days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Count them," said the Brownie, "the whole eight&mdash;quite correct.
+And then try and catch them&mdash;if you can."</p>
+
+<p>Easier said than done. The boys set to work with great satisfaction&mdash;boys
+do so enjoy hunting something. They coaxed them&mdash;they
+shouted at them&mdash;they threw little sticks at them; but as soon
+as they wanted them to go one way the fleet of ducklings immediately
+turned round and sailed another way, doing it so deliberately and
+majestically, that the children could not help laughing. As for little
+Brownie, he sat on a branch of the willow-tree, with his legs dangling
+down to the surface of the pond, kicking at the water-spiders, and
+grinning with all his might. At length, quite tired out, in spite of
+their fun, the children begged for his help, and he took compassion
+on them.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn round three times and see what you can find," shouted he.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately each little boy found in his arms, and each little girl
+in her pinafore, a fine fat duckling. And there being eight of them,
+the two elder children had each a couple. They were rather cold
+and damp, and slightly uncomfortable to cuddle, ducks not being
+used to cuddling. Poor things! they struggled hard to get away.
+But the children hugged them tight, and ran as fast as their legs could
+carry them through the wood, forgetting, in their joy, even to say
+"Thank you" to the little Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached their mother she was as glad as they, for she
+never thought to see her ducklings again; and to have them back
+alive and uninjured, and watch them running to the old hen, who
+received them with an ecstasy of delight, was so exciting, that nobody
+thought of asking a single question as to where they had been found.</p>
+
+<p>When the mother did ask, the children told her about Brownie's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+taking them to the beautiful pond&mdash;and what a wonderful pond it
+was; how green the trees were round it; and how large the primroses
+grew. They never tired of talking about it and seeking for it. But
+the odd thing was that, seek as they might, they never could find it
+again. Many a day did the little people roam about one by one, or
+all together, round the wood, often getting themselves sadly
+draggled with mud and torn with brambles&mdash;but the beautiful pond
+they never found again.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the ducklings, I suppose; for they wandered no more from
+the farmyard, to the old mother-hen's great content. They grew
+up into fat and respectable ducks&mdash;five white ones and three gray
+ones&mdash;waddling about, very content, though they never saw water,
+except the tank which was placed for them to paddle in. They
+lived a lazy, peaceful, pleasant life for a long time, and were at last
+killed and eaten with green peas, one after the other, to the family's
+great satisfaction, if not to their own.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 155px;">
+<img src="images/i017.png" width="155" height="150" alt="tree" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="four" summary="four">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE FOURTH</div>
+
+<div class='title'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE'S RIDE</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>FOR the little Brownie, though not
+given to horsemanship, did once
+take a ride, and a very remarkable one it was. Shall I tell you all
+about it?</div>
+
+<p>The six little children got a present of something they had longed
+for all their lives&mdash;a pony. Not a rocking-horse, but a real live pony&mdash;a
+Shetland pony, too, which had traveled all the way from the
+Shetland Isles to Devonshire&mdash;where every body wondered at it,
+for such a creature had not been seen in the neighborhood for years
+and years. She was no bigger than a donkey, and her coat, instead
+of being smooth like a horse's, was shaggy like a young bear's. She
+had a long tail, which had never been cut, and such a deal of hair
+in her mane and over her eyes that it gave her quite a fierce countenance.
+In fact, among the mild and tame Devonshire beasts, the
+little Shetland pony looked almost like a wild animal. But in reality
+she was the gentlest creature in the world. Before she had been
+many days with them, she began to know the children quite well;
+followed them about, ate corn out of the bowl they held out to her;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+nay, one day, when the eldest little girl offered her bread-and-butter,
+she stooped her head and took it from the child's hand, just like a
+young lady. Indeed, Jess&mdash;that was her name&mdash;was altogether so
+lady-like in her behavior, that more than once Cook allowed her to
+walk in at the back-door, when she stood politely warming her nose
+at the kitchen-fire for a minute or two, then turned round and as
+politely walked out again. But she never did any mischief; and was
+so quiet and gentle a creature that she bade fair soon to become as
+great a pet in the household as the dog, the cat, the kittens, the
+puppies, the fowls, the ducks, the cow, the pig, and all the other
+members of the family.</p>
+
+<p>The only one who disliked her, and grumbled at her, was the
+Gardener. This was odd; because, though cross to children, the
+old man was kind to dumb beasts. Even his pig knew his voice and
+grunted, and held out his nose to be scratched; and he always gave
+each successive pig a name, Jack or Dick, and called them by it,
+and was quite affectionate to them, one after the other, until the
+very day that they were killed. But they were English pigs&mdash;and
+the pony was Scotch&mdash;and the Devonshire Gardener hated every
+thing Scotch, he said; besides, he was not used to groom's work,
+and the pony required such a deal of grooming on account of her
+long hair. More than once Gardener threatened to clip it short,
+and turn her into a regular English pony, but the children were in
+such distress and mother forbade any such spoiling of Jessie's personal
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>At length, to keep things smooth, and to avoid the rough words
+and even blows which poor Jess sometimes got, they sought in the
+village for a boy to look after her, and found a great rough, shock-headed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+lad named Bill, who, for a few shillings a week, consented
+to come up every morning and learn the beginning of a groom's
+business; hoping to end, as his mother said he should, in sitting, like
+the squire's fat coachman, as broad as he was long, on the top of
+the hammer-cloth of a grand carriage, and do nothing all day but
+drive a pair of horses as stout as himself a few miles along the road
+and back again.</p>
+
+<p>Bill would have liked this very much, he thought, if he could have
+been a coachman all at once, for if there was one thing he disliked,
+it was work. He much preferred to lie in the sun all day and do
+nothing; and he only agreed to come and take care of Jess because
+she was such a very little pony, that looking after her seemed next
+door to doing nothing. But when he tried it, he found his mistake.
+True, Jess was a very gentle beast, so quiet that the old mother-hen
+with fourteen chicks used, instead of roosting with the rest of the
+fowls, to come regularly into the portion of the cow-shed which was
+partitioned off for a stable, and settle under a corner of Jess's manger
+for the night; and in the morning the chicks would be seen running
+about fearlessly among her feet and under her very nose.</p>
+
+<p>But, for all that, she required a little management, for she did not
+like her long hair to be roughly handled; it took a long time to clean
+her; and, though she did not scream out like some silly little children
+when her hair was combed, I am afraid she sometimes kicked and
+bounced about, giving Bill a deal of trouble&mdash;all the more trouble,
+the more impatient Bill was.</p>
+
+<p>And then he had to keep within call, for the children wanted their
+pony at all hours. She was their own especial property, and they
+insisted upon learning to ride&mdash;even before they got a saddle. Hard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+work it was to stick on Jess's bare back, but by degrees the boys did
+it, turn and turn about, and even gave their sisters a turn too&mdash;a very
+little one&mdash;just once round the field and back again, which was quite
+enough, they considered, for girls. But they were very kind to
+their little sisters, held them on so that they could not fall, and led
+Jess carefully and quietly: and altogether behaved as elder brothers
+should.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did they squabble very much among themselves, though sometimes
+it was rather difficult to keep their turns all fair, and remember
+accurately which was which. But they did their best, being, on the
+whole, extremely good children. And they were so happy to have
+their pony, that they would have been ashamed to quarrel over
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Also, one very curious thing kept them on their good behavior.
+Whenever they did begin to misconduct themselves&mdash;to want to ride
+out of their turns, or to domineer over one another, or the boys,
+joining together, tried to domineer over the girls, as I grieve to say
+boys not seldom do&mdash;they used to hear in the air, right over their
+heads, the crack of an unseen whip. It was none of theirs, for they
+had not got a whip; that was a felicity which their father had promised
+when they could all ride like a young gentleman and ladies; but there
+was no mistaking the sound&mdash;indeed, it always startled Jess so that
+she set off galloping, and could not be caught again for many minutes.</p>
+
+<p>This happened several times, until one of them said, "Perhaps
+it's the Brownie." Whether it was or not, it made them behave better
+for a good while; till one unfortunate day the two eldest began contending
+which should ride foremost and which hindmost on Jess's
+back, when "Crick&mdash;crack!" went the whip in the air, frightening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+the pony so much that she kicked up her heels, tossed both the boys
+over her head, and scampered off, followed by a loud "Ha, ha, ha!"</p>
+
+<p>It certainly did not come from the two boys, who had fallen&mdash;quite
+safely, but rather unpleasantly&mdash;into a large nettle-bed; whence
+they crawled out, rubbing their arms and legs, and looking too much
+ashamed to complain. But they were rather frightened and a little
+cross, for Jess took a skittish fit, and refused to be caught and mounted
+again, till the bell rang for school&mdash;when she grew as meek as possible.
+Too late&mdash;for the children were obliged to run indoors, and got no
+more rides for the whole day.</p>
+
+<p>Jess was from this incident supposed to be on the same friendly
+terms with Brownie as were the rest of the household. Indeed, when
+she came, the children had taken care to lead her up to the coal-cellar
+door and introduce her properly&mdash;for they knew Brownie was very
+jealous of strangers, and often played them tricks. But after that
+piece of civility he would be sure, they thought, to take her under
+his protection. And sometimes, when the little Shetlander was
+restless and pricked up her ears, looking preternaturally wise under
+those shaggy brows of hers, the children used to say to one another,
+"Perhaps she sees the Brownie."</p>
+
+<p>Whether she did or not, Jess sometimes seemed to see a good deal
+that others did not see, and was apparently a favorite with the Brownie,
+for she grew and thrived so much that she soon became the pride
+and delight of the children and of the whole family. You would
+hardly have known her for the rough, shaggy, half-starved little
+beast that had arrived a few weeks before. Her coat was so silky,
+her limbs so graceful, and her head so full of intelligence, that every
+body admired her. Then even Gardener began to admire her too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I think I'll get upon her back; it will save me walking down to
+the village," said he, one day. And she actually carried him&mdash;though,
+as his feet nearly touched the ground, it looked as if the man
+were carrying the pony, and not the pony the man. And the children
+laughed so immoderately, that he never tried it afterward.</p>
+
+<p>Nor Bill neither, though he had once thought he should like a ride,
+and got astride on Jess; but she quickly ducked her head down, and
+he tumbled over it. Evidently she had her own tastes as to her
+riders, and much preferred little people to big ones.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty Jess! when cantering round the paddock with the young folk
+she really was quite a picture. And when at last she got a saddle&mdash;a
+new, beautiful saddle, with a pommel to take off and on, so as to
+suit both boys and girls&mdash;how proud they all were, Jess included!
+That day they were allowed to take her into the market-town&mdash;Gardener
+leading her, as Bill could not be trusted&mdash;and every body,
+even the blacksmith, who hoped by-and-by to have the pleasure of
+shoeing her, said, what a beautiful pony she was!</p>
+
+<p>After this, Gardener treated Jess a great deal better, and showed
+Bill how to groom her, and kept him close at it too, which Bill did
+not like at all. He was a very lazy lad, and whenever he could shirk
+work he did it; and many a time when the children wanted Jess, either
+there was nobody to saddle her, or she had not been properly groomed,
+or Bill was away at his dinner, and they had to wait till he came back
+and could put her in order to be taken out for a ride like a genteel
+animal&mdash;which I am afraid neither pony nor children enjoyed half
+so much as the old ways before Bill came.</p>
+
+<p>Still, they were gradually becoming excellent little horsemen and
+horsewomen&mdash;even the youngest, only four years old, whom all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+rest were very tender over, and who was often held on Jess's back
+and given a ride out of her turn because she was a good little girl,
+and never cried for it. And seldomer and seldomer was heard the
+mysterious sound of the whip in the air, which warned them of
+quarreling&mdash;Brownie hated quarreling.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i019.jpg" width="500" height="254" alt="Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over it." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over it.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>In fact, their only trouble was Bill, who never came to his work
+in time, and never did things when wanted, and was ill-natured, lazy,
+and cross to the children, so that they disliked him very much.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish the Brownie would punish you," said one of the boys;
+"you'd behave better then."</p>
+
+<p>"The Brownie!" cried Bill, contemptuously; "if I caught him,
+I'd kick him up in the air like this!"</p>
+
+<p>And he kicked up his cap&mdash;his only cap, it was&mdash;which, strange
+to relate, flew right up, ever so high, and lodged at the very top of a
+tree which overhung the stable, where it dangled for weeks and weeks,
+during which time poor Bill had to go bareheaded.</p>
+
+<p>He was very much vexed, and revenged himself by vexing the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+children in all sorts of ways. They would have told their mother,
+and asked her to send Bill away, only she had a great many anxieties
+just then, for their old grandmother was very ill, and they did not
+like to make a fuss about any thing that would trouble her.</p>
+
+<p>So Bill staid on, and nobody found out what a bad, ill-natured,
+lazy boy he was.</p>
+
+<p>But one day the mother was sent for suddenly, not knowing when
+she should be able to come home again. She was very sad, and so
+were the children, for they loved their grandmother&mdash;and as the
+carriage drove off they all stood crying round the front-door for ever
+so long.</p>
+
+<p>The servants even cried too&mdash;all but Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said he. "What a
+jolly time I shall have! I'll do nothing all day long. Those troublesome
+children sha'n't have Jess to ride; I'll keep her in the stable,
+and then she won't get dirty, and I shall have no trouble in cleaning
+her. Hurrah! what fun!"</p>
+
+<p>He put his hands in his pockets, and sat whistling the best part of
+the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>The children had been so unhappy, that for that day they quite
+forgot Jess; but next morning, after lessons were over, they came
+begging for a ride.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't get one. The stable-door's locked and I've lost the
+key." (He had it in his pocket all the time.)</p>
+
+<p>"How is poor Jess to get her dinner?" cried a thoughtful little
+girl. "Oh, how hungry she will be!"</p>
+
+<p>And the child was quite in distress, as were the two other girls.
+But the boys were more angry than sorry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It was very stupid of you, Bill, to lose the key. Look about and
+find it, or else break open the door."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't," said Bill; "I dare say the key will turn up before night,
+and if it doesn't, who cares? You get riding enough and too much.
+I'll not bother myself about it, or Jess either."</p>
+
+<p>And Bill sauntered away. He was a big fellow, and the little lads
+were rather afraid of him. But as he walked, he could not keep
+his hand out of his trowsers-pocket, where the key felt growing heavier
+and heavier, till he expected it every minute to tumble through and
+come out at his boots&mdash;convicting him before all the children of having
+told a lie.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody was in the habit of telling lies to them, so they never suspected
+him, but went innocently searching about for the key&mdash;Bill
+all the while clutching it fast. But every time he touched it, he felt
+his fingers pinched, as <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">if</ins> there was a cockroach in his pocket&mdash;or
+little lobster&mdash;or something, anyhow, that had claws. At last, fairly
+frightened, he made an excuse to go into the cow-shed, took the key
+out of his pocket and looked at it, and finally hid it in a corner of the
+manger, among the hay.</p>
+
+<p>As he did so, he heard a most extraordinary laugh, which was
+certainly not from Dolly the cow, and, as he went out of the shed,
+he felt the same sort of pinch at his ankles, which made him so angry
+that he kept striking with his whip in all directions, but hit nobody
+for nobody was there.</p>
+
+<p>But Jess&mdash;who, as soon as she heard the children's voices, set
+up a most melancholy whinnying behind the locked stable-door&mdash;began
+to neigh energetically. And Boxer barked, and the hens
+cackled, and the guinea-fowls cried "Come back, come back!" in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+their usual insane fashion&mdash;indeed, the whole farmyard seemed in
+such an excited state, that the children got frightened lest Gardener
+should scold them, and ran away, leaving Bill master of the field.</p>
+
+<p>What an idle day he had! How he sat on the wall with his hands
+in his pockets, and lounged upon the fence, and sauntered around
+the garden! At length, absolutely tired of doing nothing, he went
+and talked with the Gardener's wife while she was hanging out her
+clothes. Gardener had gone down to the lower field, with all the
+little folks after him, so that he knew nothing of Bill's idling, or it
+might have come to an end.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by Bill thought it was time to go home to his supper.
+"But first I'll give Jess her corn," said he, "double quantity, and
+then I need not come back to give her her breakfast so early in the
+morning. Soh! you greedy beast! I'll be at you presently, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'f'">if</ins> you
+don't stop that noise."</p>
+
+<p>For Jess, at sound of his footsteps, was heard to whinny in the
+most imploring manner, enough to have melted a heart of stone.</p>
+
+<p>"The key&mdash;where on earth did I put the key?" cried Bill, whose
+constant habit it was to lay things out of his hand and then forget
+where he had put them, causing himself endless loss of time in
+searching for them&mdash;as now. At last he suddenly remembered the
+corner of the cow's manger, where he felt sure he had left it. But
+the key was not there.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't have eaten it, you silly old cow," said he, striking
+Dolly on the nose as she rubbed herself against him&mdash;she was an
+affectionate beast. "Nor you, you stupid old hen!" kicking the
+mother of the brood, who, with her fourteen chicks, being shut out
+of their usual roosting-place&mdash;Jess's stable&mdash;kept pecking about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+under Dolly's legs. "It can't have gone without hands&mdash;of
+course it can't." But most certainly the key was gone.</p>
+
+<p>What in the world should Bill do? Jess kept on making a pitiful
+complaining. No wonder, as she had not tasted food since morning.
+It would have made any kind-hearted person quite sad to hear her,
+thinking how exceedingly hungry the poor pony must be.</p>
+
+<p>Little did Bill care for that, or for anything, except that he should
+be sure to get into trouble as soon as he was found out. When he
+heard Gardener coming into the farmyard, with the children after
+him, Bill bolted over the wall like a flash of lightning, and ran away
+home, leaving poor Jess to her fate.</p>
+
+<p>All the way he seemed to hear at his heels a little dog yelping, and
+then a swarm of gnats buzzing round his head, and altogether was
+so perplexed and bewildered, that when he got into his mother's
+cottage he escaped into bed, and pulled the blanket over his ears
+to shut out the noise of the dog and the gnats, which at last turned into
+a sound like somebody laughing. It was not his mother, she didn't
+often laugh, poor soul!&mdash;Bill bothered her quite too much for that,
+and he knew it. Dreadfully frightened, he hid his head under the
+bedclothes, determined to go to sleep and think about nothing till
+next day.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Gardener returned, with all the little people trooping
+after him. He had been rather kinder to them than usual this day,
+because he knew their mother had gone away in trouble, and now
+he let them help him to roll the gravel, and fetch up Dolly to be
+milked, and watch him milk her in the cow-shed&mdash;where, it being
+nearly winter, she always spent the night now. They were so well
+amused that they forgot all about their disappointment as to the ride,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+and Jess did not remind them of it by her whinnying. For as soon
+as Bill was gone she grew silent.</p>
+
+<p>At last one little girl, the one who had cried over Jess's being
+left hungry, remembered the poor pony, and, peeping through a crevice
+in the cow-shed, saw her stand contentedly munching at a large bowlful
+of corn.</p>
+
+<p>"So Bill did find the key. I'm very glad," thought the kind
+little maiden, and to make sure looked again, when&mdash;what do you
+think she beheld squatting on the manger? Something brown&mdash;either
+a large brown rat, or a small brown man. But she held her
+tongue, since, being a very little girl, people sometimes laughed at
+her for the strange things she saw. She was quite certain she did
+see them, for all that.</p>
+
+<p>So she and the rest of the children went indoors and to bed. When
+they were fast asleep, something happened. Something so curious,
+that the youngest boy, who, thinking he heard Jess neighing, got up
+to look out, was afraid to tell, lest he too should be laughed at, and
+went back to bed immediately.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the night, a little old brown man carrying a lantern,
+or at least having a light in his hand that looked like a lantern&mdash;went
+and unlocked Jess's stable, and patted her pretty head. At first she
+started, but soon she grew quiet and pleased, and let him do what
+he chose with her. He began rubbing her down, making the same
+funny hissing with his mouth that Bill did, and all grooms do&mdash;I never
+could find out why. But Jess evidently liked it, and stood as good
+as possible.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 414px;">
+<img src="images/i020.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.&mdash;Page 55" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.&mdash;Page 55</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Isn't it nice to be clean?" said the wee man, talking to her as if
+she were a human being, or a Brownie. "And I dare say your poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+little legs ache with standing so long. Shall we have a run together?
+the moon shines bright in the clear, cold night. Dear me! I'm
+talking poetry."</p>
+
+<p>But Brownies are not poetical fairies, quite commonplace, and up
+to all sorts of work. So, while he talked, he was saddling and bridling
+Jess, she not objecting in the least. Finally, he jumped on her
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"'Off, said the stranger&mdash;off, off, and away!'" sang Brownie
+mimicking a song of the Cook's. People in that house often heard
+their songs repeated in the oddest way, from room to room, everybody
+fancying it was somebody else that did it. But it was only
+the Brownie. "Now, 'A southerly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim
+a hunting morning!'"</p>
+
+<p>Or night&mdash;for it was the middle of the night, though bright as
+day&mdash;and Jess galloped and the Brownie sat on her back as merrily
+as if they had gone hunting together all their days.</p>
+
+<p>Such a steeple-chase it was! They cleared the farmyard at a
+single bound, and went flying down the road, and across the ploughed
+field, and into the wood. Then out into the open country, and by-and-by
+into a dark, muddy lane&mdash;and oh! how muddy Devonshire
+lanes can be sometimes!</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go into the water to wash ourselves," said Brownie, and
+coaxed Jess into a deep stream, which she swam as bravely as possible&mdash;she
+had not had such a frolic since she left her native Shetland
+Isles. Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping as if she
+had been a water-dog instead of a pony. Brownie, too, shook himself
+like a rat or a beaver, throwing a shower round him in all directions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Never mind; at it again, my lass!" and he urged Jess into the
+water once more. Out she came, wetter and brisker than ever,
+and went back home again through the lane, and the wood, and the
+ploughed field, galloping like the wind, and tossing back her ears
+and mane and tail, perfectly frantic with enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>But when she reached her stable, the plight she was in would have
+driven any respectable groom frantic too. Her sides were white with
+foam, and the mud was sticking all over her like a plaster. As for
+her beautiful long hair, it was all caked together in a tangle, as if
+all the combs in the world would never make it smooth again. Her
+mane especially was plaited into knots, which people in Devonshire
+call elf-locks, and say, when they find them on their horses, that it
+is because the fairies have been riding them.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly, poor Jess had been pretty well ridden that night. When
+just as the dawn began to break, Gardener got up and looked into
+the farmyard, his sharp eye caught sight of the stable-door wide open.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, Bill," shouted he, "up early at last. One hour
+before breakfast is worth three after."</p>
+
+<p>But no Bill was there; only Jess, trembling and shaking, all in a
+foam, and muddy from head to foot, but looking perfectly cheerful
+in her mind. And out from under her fore legs ran a small creature
+which Gardener mistook for Tiny, only Tiny was gray, and this
+dog was brown, of course!</p>
+
+<p>I should not like to tell you all that was said to Bill when, an hour
+after breakfast-time, he came skulking up to the farm. In fact, words
+failing, Gardener took a good stick and laid it about Bill's shoulders,
+saying he would either do this, or tell the mistress of him, and how
+he had left the stable-door open all night, and some bad fellow had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+stolen Jess, and galloped her all across the country, till, if she hadn't
+been the cleverest pony in the world, she never could have got back
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Bill durst not contradict this explanation of the story, especially
+as the key was found hanging up in its proper place by the kitchen
+door. And when he went to fetch it, he heard the most extraordinary
+sound in the coal-cellar close by&mdash;like somebody snoring
+or laughing. Bill took to his heels, and did not come back for a
+whole hour.</p>
+
+<p>But when he did come back, he made himself as busy as possible.
+He cleaned Jess, which was half a day's work at least. Then he
+took the little people a ride, and afterward put his stable in the most
+beautiful order, and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'altogetherwas'">altogether was</ins> such a changed Bill, that Gardener
+told him he must have left himself at home and brought back somebody
+else: whether or not, the boy certainly improved, so that there
+was less occasion to find fault with him afterward.</p>
+
+<p>Jess lived to be quite an old pony, and carried a great many people&mdash;little
+people always, for she herself never grew any bigger. But
+I don't think she ever carried a Brownie again.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/i021.png" width="200" height="76" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="five" summary="five">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE FIFTH</div>
+
+<div class='title'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE ON THE ICE</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>WINTER was a grand time with the six little children
+especially when they had frost and snow. This happened
+seldom enough for it to be the greatest possible treat when it did
+happen; and it never lasted very long, for the winters are warm in
+Devonshire.</div>
+
+<p>There was a little lake three fields off, which made the most splendid
+sliding-place imaginable. No skaters went near it&mdash;it was not
+large enough; and besides, there was nobody to skate, the neighborhood
+being lonely. The lake itself looked the loneliest place imaginable.
+It was not very deep&mdash;not deep enough to drown a man&mdash;but
+it had a gravelly bottom, and was always very clear. Also, the
+trees round it grew so thick that they sheltered it completely from
+the wind, so, when it did freeze, it generally froze as smooth as a sheet
+of glass.</p>
+
+<p>"The lake bears!" was such a grand event, and so rare, that when
+it did occur, the news came at once to the farm, and the children
+carried it as quickly to their mother. For she had promised them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+that, if such a thing did happen this year&mdash;it did not happen every
+year&mdash;lessons should be stopped entirely, and they should all go
+down to the lake and slide, if they liked, all day long.</p>
+
+<p>So one morning, just before Christmas, the eldest boy ran in with
+a countenance of great delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother, the lake bears!" (It was rather a compliment
+to call it a lake, it being only about twenty yards across and forty
+long.) "The lake really bears!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who says so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bill. Bill has been on it for an hour this morning, and has made
+us two such beautiful slides, he says&mdash;an upslide and a down-slide.
+May we go directly?"</p>
+
+<p>The mother hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"You promised, you know," pleaded the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then; only be careful."</p>
+
+<p>"And may we slide all day long, and never come home for dinner
+or any thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if you like. Only Gardener must go with you, and stay
+all day."</p>
+
+<p>This they did not like at all; nor, when Gardener was spoken to,
+did he.</p>
+
+<p>"You bothering children! I wish you may all get a good ducking
+in the lake! Serve you right for making me lose a day's work, just
+to look after you little monkeys. I've a great mind to tell your
+mother I won't do it."</p>
+
+<p>But he did not, being fond of his mistress. He was also fond of
+his work, but he had no notion of play. I think the saying of, "All
+work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," must have been applied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+to him, for Gardener, whatever he had been as a boy, was certainly
+a dull and melancholy man. The children used to say that if he and
+idle Bill could have been kneaded into one, and baked in the oven&mdash;a
+very warm oven&mdash;they would have come out rather a pleasant
+person.</p>
+
+<p>As it was, Gardener was any thing but a pleasant person; above
+all, to spend a long day with, and on the ice, where one needs all
+one's cheerfulness and good-humor to bear pinched fingers and
+numbed toes, and trips and tumbles, and various uncomfortablenesses.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll growl at us all day long&mdash;he'll be a regular spoil-sport!"
+lamented the children. "Oh! mother, mightn't we go alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said the mother; and her "No" meant no, though she was
+always very kind. They argued the point no more, but started off,
+rather downhearted. But soon they regained their spirits, for it
+was <ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word not present in the original">a</ins> bright, clear, frosty day&mdash;the sun shining, though not enough
+to melt the ice, and just sufficient to lie like a thin sprinkling over
+the grass, and turn the brown branches into white ones. The little
+people danced along to keep themselves warm, carrying between
+them a basket which held their lunch. A very harmless lunch it
+was&mdash;just a large brown loaf and a lump of cheese, and a knife to
+cut it with. Tossing the basket about in their fun, they managed
+to tumble the knife out, and were having a search for it in the long
+grass, when Gardener came up, grumpily enough.</p>
+
+<p>"To think of trusting you children with one of the table-knives
+and a basket! what a fool Cook must be! I'll tell her so; and if
+they're lost she'll blame me: give me the things."</p>
+
+<p>He put the knife angrily in one pocket. "Perhaps it will cut a hole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+in it," said one of the children, in rather a pleased tone than otherwise;
+then he turned the lunch all out on the grass and crammed it
+in the other pocket, hiding the basket behind a hedge.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I'll not be at the trouble of carrying it," said he, when
+the children cried out at this; "and you shan't carry it either, for you'll
+knock it about and spoil it. And as for your lunch getting warm in
+my pocket, why, so much the better this cold day."</p>
+
+<p>It was not a lively joke, and they knew the pocket was very dirty;
+indeed, the little girls had seen him stuff a dead rat into it only the
+day before. They looked ready to cry; but there was no help
+for them, except going back and complaining to their mother, and
+they did not like to do that. Besides, they knew that, though Gardener
+was cross, he was trustworthy, and she would never let them
+go down to the lake without him.</p>
+
+<p>So they followed him, trying to be as good as they could&mdash;though
+it was difficult work. One of them proposed pelting him with snowballs,
+as they pelted each other. But at the first&mdash;which fell in his
+neck&mdash;he turned round so furiously, that they never sent a second,
+but walked behind him as meek as mice.</p>
+
+<p>As they went, they heard little steps pattering after them.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is the Brownie to play with us&mdash;I wish he would,"
+whispered the youngest girl to the eldest boy, whose hand she generally
+held; and then the little pattering steps sounded again, traveling
+through the snow, but they saw nobody&mdash;so they said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The children would have liked to go straight to the ice; but Gardener
+insisted on taking them a mile round, to look at an extraordinary
+animal which a farmer there had just got&mdash;sent by his
+brother in Australia. The two old men stood gossiping so long that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+the children wearied extremely. Every minute seemed an hour till
+they got on the ice.</p>
+
+<p>At last one of them pulled Gardener's coat-tails, and whispered
+that they were quite ready to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm not," and he waited ever so much longer, and got a
+drink of hot cider, which made him quite lively for a little while.</p>
+
+<p>But by the time they reached the lake, he was as cross as ever.
+He struck the ice with his stick, but made no attempt to see if it really
+did bear&mdash;though he would not allow the children to go one step
+upon it till he had tried.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it doesn't bear, and you'll just have to go home again&mdash;a
+good thing too&mdash;saves me from losing a day's work."</p>
+
+<p>"Try, only try; Bill said it bore," implored the boys, and looked
+wistfully at the two beautiful slides&mdash;just as Bill said, one up and
+one down&mdash;stretching all across the lake; "of course it bears, or Bill
+could not have made these slides."</p>
+
+<p>"Bill's an ass!" said the Gardener, and put his heavy foot cautiously
+on the ice. Just then there was seen jumping across it a creature
+which certainly had never been seen on ice before. It made the
+most extraordinary bounds on its long hind legs, with its little fore
+legs tucked up in front of it as if it wanted to carry a muff; and its
+long, stiff tail sticking out straight behind, to balance it itself with
+apparently. The children at first started with surprise, and then
+burst out laughing, for it was the funniest creature, and had the
+funniest way of getting along, that they had ever seen in their lives.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the kangaroo!" said Gardener, in great excitement. "It
+has got loose&mdash;and it's sure to be lost&mdash;and what a way Mr. Giles
+will be in! I must go and tell him. Or stop, I'll try and catch it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But in vain&mdash;it darted once or twice across the ice, dodging him,
+as it were; and once coming so close that he nearly caught it by the
+tail&mdash;to the children's great delight&mdash;then it vanished entirely.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go and tell Mr. Giles directly," said Gardener, and then
+stopped. For he had promised not to leave the children; and it was
+such a wild-goose chase, after an escaped kangaroo. But he might
+get half a crown as a reward, and he was sure of another glass of cider.</p>
+
+<p>"You just stop quiet here, and I'll be back in five minutes," said
+he to the children. "You may go a little way on the ice&mdash;I think it's
+sound enough; only mind you don't tumble in, for there'll be nobody
+to pull you out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no," said the children, clapping their hands. They did not
+care for tumbling in, and were quite glad there was nobody there
+to pull them out. They hoped Gardener would stop a very long
+time away&mdash;only, as some one suggested when he was seen hurrying
+across the snowy field, he had taken away their lunch in his pocket,
+too.</p>
+
+<p>Off they darted, the three elder boys, with a good run; the biggest
+of the girls followed after them; and soon the whole four were skimming
+one after the other, as fast as a railway train, across the slippery
+ice. And, like a railway train, they had a collision, and all came
+tumbling one over the other, with great screaming and laughing, to
+the high bank on the other side. The two younger ones stood mournfully
+watching the others from the opposite bank&mdash;when there stood
+beside them a small brown man.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho-ho! little people," said he, coming between them and taking
+hold of a hand of each. His was so warm and theirs so cold, that it
+was quite comfortable. And then, somehow, they found in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+mouths a nice lozenge&mdash;I think it was peppermint, but am not sure;
+which comforted them still more.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you want me to play with you?" cried the Brownie; "then
+here I am. What shall we do? Have a turn on the ice together?"</p>
+
+<p>No sooner said than done. The two children felt themselves
+floating along&mdash;it was more like floating than running&mdash;with Brownie
+between them; up the lake, and down the lake, and across the lake,
+not at all interfering with the sliders&mdash;indeed, it was a great deal
+better than sliding. Rosy and breathless, their toes so nice and
+warm, and their hands feeling like mince-pies just taken out of the
+oven&mdash;the little ones came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>The elder ones stopped their sliding, and looked toward Brownie
+with entreating eyes. He swung himself up to a willow bough, and
+then turned head over heels on to the ice.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloo! you don't mean to say you big ones want a race too!
+Well, come along&mdash;if the two eldest will give a slide to the little ones."</p>
+
+<p>He watched them take a tiny sister between them, and slide her
+up one slide and down another, screaming with delight. Then he
+took the two middle children in either hand.</p>
+
+<p>"One, two, three, and away!" Off they started&mdash;scudding along
+as light as feathers and as fast as steam-engines, over the smooth,
+black ice, so clear that they could see the bits of stick and water-grasses
+frozen in it, and even the little fishes swimming far down below&mdash;if
+they had only looked long enough.</p>
+
+<p>When all had had their fair turns, they began to be frightfully
+hungry.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 427px;">
+<img src="images/i023.jpg" width="427" height="600" alt="The two little children felt themselves floating along&mdash;with Brownie between them&mdash;Page 64" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The two little children felt themselves floating along&mdash;with Brownie between them&mdash;Page 64</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Catch a fish for dinner, and I'll lend you a hook," said Brownie.
+At which they all laughed, and then looked rather grave. Pulling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+a cold, raw live fish from under the ice and eating it was not a pleasant
+idea of dinner. "Well, what would you like to have? Let the little
+one choose."</p>
+
+<p>She said, after thinking a minute, that she should like a currant-cake.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'd give all you a bit of it&mdash;a very large bit&mdash;I would indeed!"
+added she, almost with the tears in her eyes&mdash;she was so very
+hungry.</p>
+
+<p>"Do it, then!" said the Brownie, in his little squeaking voice.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately the stone that the little girl was sitting on&mdash;a round,
+hard stone, and so cold!&mdash;turned into a nice hot cake&mdash;so hot that
+she jumped up directly. As soon as she saw what it was, she clapped
+her hands for joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful cake! only we haven't got a
+knife to cut it."</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt in all their pockets, but somehow their knives never
+were there when they were wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Look! you've got one in your hand!" said Brownie to the little
+one; and that minute a bit of stick she held turned into a bread-knife&mdash;silver,
+with an ivory handle&mdash;big enough and sharp enough,
+without being too sharp. For the youngest girl was not allowed to use
+sharp knives, though she liked cutting things excessively, especially
+cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"That will do. Sit you down and carve the dinner. Fair shares
+and don't let any body eat too much. Now begin, ma'am," said
+the Brownie, quite politely, as if she had been ever so old.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how proud the little girl was. How bravely she set to work,
+and cut five of the biggest slices you ever saw, and gave them to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+brothers and sisters, and was just going to take the sixth slice for
+herself, when she remembered the Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said she, as politely as he, though she was
+such a very little girl, and turned round to the wee brown man. But
+he was nowhere to be seen. The slices of cake in the children's
+hands remained cake, and uncommonly good it was, and such substantial
+eating that it did nearly the same as dinner; but the cake
+itself turned suddenly to a stone again, and the knife into a bit of
+stick.</p>
+
+<p>For there was the Gardener coming clumping along by the bank
+of the lake, and growling as he went.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got the kangaroo?" shouted the children, determined
+to be civil, if possible.</p>
+
+<p>"This <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'plaee'">place</ins> is bewitched, I think," said he, "The kangaroo was
+fast asleep in the cow-shed. What! how dare you laugh at me?"</p>
+
+<p>But they hadn't laughed at all. And they found it no laughing
+matter, poor children, when Gardener came on the ice, and began to
+scold them and order them about. He was perfectly savage with
+crossness; for the people at Giles's Farm had laughed at him very
+much, and he did not like to be laughed at&mdash;and at the top of the
+field he had by chance met his mistress, and she asked him severely
+how he could think of leaving the children alone.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether, his conscience pricked him a good deal, and when
+people's consciences prick them, sometimes they get angry with
+other people, which is very silly, and only makes matters worse.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing all this time?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"All this five minutes?" said the oldest boy, mischievously; for
+Gardener was only to be away five minutes, and he had staid a full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+hour. Also, when he fumbled in his pocket for the children's lunch&mdash;to
+stop their tongues, perhaps&mdash;he found it was not there.</p>
+
+<p>They set up a great outcry; for, in spite of the cake, they could
+have eaten a little more. Indeed, the frost had such an effect upon
+all their appetites, that they felt not unlike that celebrated gentleman
+of whom it is told that</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"He ate a cow, and ate a calf,<br />
+He ate an ox, and ate a half;<br />
+He ate a church, he ate the steeple,<br />
+He ate the priest, and all the people,<br />
+And said he hadn't had enough then."<br />
+</div>
+
+<p>"We're so hungry, so very hungry! Couldn't you go back again
+and fetch us some dinner?" cried they, entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not I, indeed. You may go back to dinner yourselves. You
+shall, indeed, for I want my dinner too. Two hours is plenty long
+enough to stop on the ice."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't two hours&mdash;it's only one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, one will do better than more. You're all right now&mdash;and
+you might soon tumble in, or break your legs on the slide. So come
+away home."</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't kind of Gardener, and I don't wonder the children felt
+it hard; indeed, the eldest boy resisted stoutly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother said we might stop all day, and we will stop all day.
+You may go home if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't, and you shall!" said Gardener, smacking a whip that
+he carried in his hand. "Stop till I catch you, and I'll give you this
+about your back, my fine gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>And he tried to follow, but the little fellow darted across the ice,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+objecting to be either caught or whipped. It may have been rather
+naughty, but I am afraid it was great fun dodging the Gardener up
+and down; he being too timid to go on the slippery ice, and sometimes
+getting so close that the whip nearly touched the lad.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless us! there's the kangaroo again!" said he, starting. Just
+as he had caught the boy, and lifted the whip, the creature was seen
+hop-hopping from bank to bank. "I can't surely be mistaken this
+time; I must catch it."</p>
+
+<p>Which seemed quite easy, for it limped as if it was lame, or as if
+the frost had bitten its toes, poor beast! Gardener went after it,
+walking cautiously on the slippery, crackling ice, and never minding
+whether or not he walked on the slides, though they called out to him
+that his nailed boots would spoil them.</p>
+
+<p>But whether it was that ice which bears a boy will not bear a man,
+or whether at each lame step of the kangaroo there came a great crack,
+is more than I can tell. However, just as Gardener reached the
+middle of the lake, the ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.&mdash;The
+kangaroo too, apparently, for it was not seen afterward.</p>
+
+<p>What a hullaballoo the poor man made! Not that he was drowning&mdash;the
+lake was too shallow to drown any body, but he got terribly
+wet, and the water was very cold. He soon scrambled out, the boys
+helping him; and then he hobbled home as fast as he could, not even
+saying thank you, or taking the least notice of them.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, nobody took notice of them&mdash;nobody came to fetch them,
+and they might have staid sliding the whole afternoon. Only somehow
+they did not feel quite easy in their minds. And though the
+hole in the ice closed up immediately, and it seemed as firm as ever,
+still they did not like to slide upon it again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/i024.jpg" width="229" height="450" alt="The ice suddenly broke, and in he popped." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The ice <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'suddenl'">suddenly</ins> broke, and in he popped.</span>
+</div>
+<p>"I think we had better go home and tell mother every thing,"
+said one of them. "Besides, we ought to see what has become of
+poor Gardener. He was very wet."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but oh, how funny he
+looked!" And they all burst out
+laughing at the recollection of the
+figure he cut, scrambling out
+through the ice with his trowsers
+dripping up to the knees, and the
+water running out of his boots,
+making a little pool, wherever he
+stepped.</p>
+
+<p>"And it freezes so hard, that by
+the time he gets home his clothes
+will be as stiff as a board. His
+wife will have to put him to the
+fire to thaw before he can get out
+of them."</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Again the little people burst into
+shouts of laughter. Although
+they laughed, they were a little
+sorry for the poor old Gardener,
+and hoped no great harm had come to him, but that he had got safe
+home and been dried by his own warm fire.</p>
+
+<p>The frosty mist was beginning already to rise, and the sun, though
+still high up in the sky, looked like a ball of red-hot iron as the six
+children went homeward across the fields&mdash;merry enough still, but
+not quite so merry as they had been a few hours before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Let's hope mother won't be vexed with us," said they, "but will
+let us come back again to-morrow. It wasn't our fault that Gardener
+tumbled in."</p>
+
+<p>As somebody said this, they all heard quite distinctly, "Ha, ha,
+ha!" and "Ho, ho, ho!" and a sound of little steps pattering behind.</p>
+
+<p>But whatever they thought, nobody ventured to say that it was the
+fault of the Brownie.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 102px;">
+<img src="images/i025.png" width="102" height="300" alt="Roses" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="six" summary="six">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE SIXTH<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;AND LAST</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE CLOTHES</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>TILL the next time; but when there
+is a Brownie in the house, no
+one can say that any of his tricks will be the last. For there's no
+stopping a Brownie, and no getting rid of him either. This one had
+followed the family from house to house, generation after generation&mdash;never
+any older, and sometimes seeming even to grow younger by
+the tricks he played. In fact, though he looked like an old man, he
+was a perpetual child.</div>
+
+<p>To the children he never did any harm, quite the contrary. And
+his chief misdoings were against those who vexed the children. But
+he gradually made friends with several of his grown up enemies.
+Cook, for instance, who had ceased to be lazy at night and late in
+the morning, found no more black footmarks on her white table cloth.
+And Brownie found his basin of milk waiting for him, night after
+night, behind the coal-cellar door.</p>
+
+<p>Bill, too, got on well enough with his pony, and Jess was taken
+no more night-rides. No ducks were lost; and Dolly gave her milk
+quite comfortably to whoever milked her. Alas! this was either<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+Bill or the Gardener's wife now. After that adventure on the ice,
+poor Gardener very seldom appeared; when he did, it was on two
+crutches, for he had had rheumatism in his feet, and could not stir
+outside his cottage door. Bill, therefore, had double work; which
+was probably all the better for Bill.</p>
+
+<p>The garden had to take care of itself; but this being winter-time, it
+did not much signify. Besides, Brownie seldom went into the
+garden, except in summer; during the hard weather he preferred
+to stop in his coal-cellar. It might not have been a lively place,
+but it was warm, and he liked it.</p>
+
+<p>He had company there, too; for when the cat had more kittens&mdash;the
+kitten he used to tease being grown up now&mdash;they were all put
+in a hamper in the coal-cellar; and of cold nights Brownie used to
+jump in beside them, and be as warm and as cozy as a kitten himself.
+The little things never were heard to mew; so it may be supposed
+they liked his society. And the old mother-cat evidently bore him
+no malice for the whipping she had got by mistake; so Brownie must
+have found means of coaxing her over. One thing you may be
+sure of&mdash;all the while she and her kittens were in his coal-cellar, he
+took care never to turn himself into a mouse.</p>
+
+<p>He was spending the winter, on the whole, very comfortably,
+without much trouble either to himself or his neighbors, when one
+day, the coal-cellar being nearly empty, two men, and a great wagon-load
+of coals behind them, came to the door, Gardener's wife following.</p>
+
+<p>"My man says you're to give the cellar a good cleaning out before
+you put any more in," said she, in her sharp voice; "and don't be
+lazy about it. It'll not take you ten minutes, for it's nearly all coal-dust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+except that one big lump in the corner&mdash;you might clear that
+out too."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, it's the Brownie's lump! better not meddle with it," whispered
+the little scullery-maid.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you meddle with matters that can't concern you," said
+the Gardener's wife, who had been thinking what a nice help it would
+be to her fire. To be sure, it was not her lump of coal, but she
+thought she might take it; the mistress would never miss it, or the
+Brownie either. He must be a very silly old Brownie to live under
+a lump of coal.</p>
+
+<p>So she argued with herself, and made the men lift it. "You must
+lift it, you see, if you are to sweep the coal-cellar out clean. And
+you may as well put it on the barrow, and I'll wheel it out of your
+way."</p>
+
+<p>This she said in quite a civil voice, lest they should tell of her, and
+stood by while it was being done. It was done without any thing
+happening, except that a large rat ran out of the coal-cellar door,
+bouncing against her feet, and frightening her so much that she
+nearly tumbled down.</p>
+
+<p>"See what nonsense it is to talk of Brownies living in a coal-cellar.
+Nothing lives there but rats, and I'll have them poisoned pretty soon,
+and get rid of them."</p>
+
+<p>But she was rather frightened all the same, for the rat had been
+such a very big rat, and had looked at her, as it darted past, with
+such wild, bright, mischievous eyes&mdash;brown eyes, of course&mdash;that
+she all but jumped with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>However, she had got her lump of coal, and was wheeling it quietly
+away, nobody seeing, to her cottage at the bottom of the garden. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+was a hard-worked woman, and her husband's illness made things
+harder for her. Still, she was not quite easy at taking what did not
+belong to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose any body will miss the coal," she repeated.
+"I dare say the mistress would have given it to me if I had asked her;
+and as for its being the Brownie's lump&mdash;fudge! Bless us! what's
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>For the barrow began to creak dreadfully, and every creak sounded
+like the cry of a child, just as if the wheel were going over its leg
+and crushing its poor little bones.</p>
+
+<p>"What a horrid noise! I must grease the barrow. If only I
+knew where they keep the grease-box. All goes wrong, now my old
+man's laid up. Oh, dear! oh dear!"</p>
+
+<p>For suddenly the barrow had tilted over, though there was not a
+single stone near, and the big coal was tumbled on to the ground,
+where it broke into a thousand pieces. Gathering it up again was
+hopeless, and it made such a mess on the gravel-walk, that the old
+woman was thankful her misfortune happened behind the privet
+hedge, where nobody was likely to come.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take a broom and sweep it up to-morrow. Nobody goes near
+the orchard now, except me when I hang out the clothes; so I need
+say nothing about it to the old man or any body. But ah! deary me,
+what a beautiful lot of coal I've lost!"</p>
+
+<p>She stood and looked at it mournfully, and then went into her cottage,
+where she found two or three of the little children keeping Gardener
+company. They did not dislike to do this now; but he was so much
+kinder than he used to be&mdash;so quiet and patient, though he suffered
+very much. And he had never once reproached them for what they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+always remembered&mdash;how it was ever since he was on the ice with
+them that he had got the rheumatism.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 226px;">
+<img src="images/i027.jpg" width="226" height="450" alt="Suddenly the barrow had tilted over." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Suddenly the barrow had tilted over.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So, one or other of them made a point of going to see him every
+day, and telling him all the funny
+things they could think of&mdash;indeed,
+it was a contest among them who
+should first make Gardener laugh.
+They did not succeed in doing
+that exactly; but they managed to
+make him smile; and he was always
+gentle and grateful to them;
+so that they sometimes thought
+it was rather nice his being ill.</p>
+
+<p>But his wife was not pleasant;
+she grumbled all day long, and
+snapped at him and his visitors;
+being especially snappish this day,
+because she had lost her big coal.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't have you children come
+bothering here," said she, crossly.
+"I want to wring out my clothes,
+and hang them to dry. Be off with
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Let us stop a little&mdash;just to tell Gardener this one curious thing
+about Dolly and the pig&mdash;and then we'll help you to take your clothes
+to the orchard; we can carry your basket between us&mdash;we can, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>That was the last thing the woman wished; for she knew the
+that the children would be sure to see the mess on the gravel-walk&mdash;and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+they were such inquisitive children&mdash;they noticed every thing.
+They would want to know all about it, and how the bits of coal came
+there. It was very a awkward position. But people who take other
+people's property often do find themselves in awkward positions.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, young gentlemen," said she, quite politely; "but
+indeed the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bakset'">basket</ins> is too heavy for you. However, you may stop
+and gossip a little longer with my old man. He likes it."</p>
+
+<p>And, while they were shut up with Gardener in his bedroom, off
+she went, carrying the basket on her head, and hung her clothes
+carefully out&mdash;the big things on lines between the fruit trees, and the
+little things, such as stockings and pocket handkerchiefs, stuck on
+the gooseberry-bushes, or spread upon the clean green grass.</p>
+
+<p>"Such a fine day as it is! they'll dry directly," said she, cheerfully,
+to herself. "Plenty of sun, and not a breath of wind to blow them
+about. I'll leave them for an hour or two, and come and fetch them
+in before it grows dark. Then I shall get all my folding done by
+bedtime, and have a clear day for ironing to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>But when she did fetch them in, having bundled them all together
+in the dusk of the evening, never was such a sight as those clothes!
+They were all twisted in the oddest way&mdash;the stockings turned inside
+out, with the heels and toes tucked into the legs; the sleeves of the
+shirts tied together in double knots, the pocket-handkerchiefs made
+into round balls, so tight that if you had pelted a person with them
+they would have given very hard <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bolws'">blows</ins> indeed. And the whole
+looked as if, instead of lying quietly on the grass and bushes, they had
+been dragged through heaps of mud and then stamped upon, so that
+there was not a clean inch upon them from end to end.</p>
+
+<p>"What a horrid mess!" cried the Gardener's wife, who had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+at first very angry, and then very frightened. "But I know what it
+<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">is</ins>; that nasty Boxer has got loose again. It's he that has done it."</p>
+
+<p>"Boxer wouldn't tie shirt-sleeves in double knots, or make balls
+of pocket-handkerchiefs," Gardener was heard to answer, solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it's those horrid children; they are always up to some
+mischief or other&mdash;just let me catch them!"</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better not," said somebody in a voice exactly like Gardener's,
+though he himself declared he had not spoken a word. Indeed,
+he was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of," the
+Gardener's wife said, supposing she was talking to her husband all the
+time; but soon she held her tongue, for she found here and there
+among the clothes all sorts of queer marks&mdash;marks of fingers, and
+toes, and heels, not in mud at all, but in coal-dust, as black as black
+could be.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as the place where the big coal had tumbled out of the
+barrow was fully fifty yards from the orchard, and, as the coal could
+not come to the clothes, and the clothes could not go without hands,
+the only conclusion she could arrive at was&mdash;well, no particular
+conclusion at all!</p>
+
+<p>It was too late that night to begin washing again; besides, she was
+extremely tired, and her husband woke up rather worse than usual,
+so she just bundled the clothes up anyhow in a corner, put the kitchen
+to rights, and went mournfully to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning she got up long before it was light, washed her
+clothes through all over again, and, it being impossible to dry them
+by the fire, went out with them once more, and began spreading
+them out in their usual corner, in a hopeless and melancholy manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+While she was at it, the little folks came trooping around her. She
+didn't scold them this time, she was too low-spirited.</p>
+
+<p>"No! my old man isn't any better, and I don't fancy he ever will
+be," said she, in answer to their questions. "And every thing's
+going wrong with us&mdash;just listen!" And she told the trick which
+had been played her about the clothes.</p>
+
+<p>The little people tried not to laugh, but it was so funny; and even
+now, the minute she had done hanging them out, there was something
+so droll in the way the clothes blew about, without any wind;
+the shirts hanging with their necks <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'donwward'">downward</ins>, as if there was a man
+inside them; and the drawers standing stiffly astride on the gooseberry-bushes,
+for all the world as if they held a pair of legs still. As
+for Gardener's night-caps&mdash;long, white cotton, with a tassel at the
+top&mdash;they were alarming to look at; just like a head stuck on the top
+of a pole.</p>
+
+<p>The whole thing was so peculiar, and the old woman so comical
+in her despair, that the children, after trying hard to keep it in, at
+last broke into shouts of laughter. She turned furiously upon them.</p>
+
+<p>"It was you who did it!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed it wasn't!" said they, jumping farther to escape
+her blows. For she had got one of her clothes-props, and was laying
+about her in the most reckless manner. However, she hurt nobody,
+and then she suddenly burst out, not laughing, but crying.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a cruel thing, whoever has done it, to play such tricks on a
+poor old body like me, with a sick husband that she works hard for,
+and not a child to help her. But I don't care. I'll wash my clothes
+again, if it's twenty times over, and I'll hang them out again in the
+very place, just to make you all ashamed of yourselves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the little people were ashamed of themselves, though
+they really had not done the mischief. But they knew quite well
+who had done it, and more than once they were about to tell; only
+they were afraid, if they did so, they should vex the Brownie so much
+that he would never come and play with them any more.</p>
+
+<p>So they looked at one another without speaking, and when the Gardener's
+wife had emptied her basket and dried her eyes, they said
+to her, very kindly:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps no harm may come to your clothes this time. We'll
+sit and watch them till they are dry."</p>
+
+<p>"Just as you like; I don't care. Them that hides can find, and
+them that plays tricks knows how to stop 'em."</p>
+
+<p>It was not a civil speech, but then things were hard for the poor old
+woman. She had been awake nearly all night, and up washing at
+daybreak; her eyes were red with crying, and her steps weary and
+slow. The little children felt quite sorry for her, and, instead of
+going to play, sat watching the clothes as patiently as possible.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing came near them. Sometimes, as before, the things seemed
+to dance about without hands, and turn into odd shapes, as if there
+were people inside them; but not a creature was seen and not a sound
+was heard. And though there was neither wind nor sun, very soon
+all the linen was perfectly dry.</p>
+
+<p>"Fetch one of mother's baskets, and we'll fold it up as tidily as
+possible&mdash;that is, the girls can do it, it's their business&mdash;and we boys
+will carry it safe to Gardener's cottage."</p>
+
+<p>So said they, not liking to say that they could not trust it out of
+their sight for fear of Brownie, whom, indeed, they were expecting
+to see peer round from every bush. They began to have a secret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+fear that he was rather a naughty Brownie; but then, as the eldest
+little girl whispered, "He was only a Brownie, and knew no better."
+Now they were growing quite big children, who would be men and
+women some time; when they hoped they would never do any thing
+wrong. (Their parents hoped the same, but doubted it.)</p>
+
+<p>In a serious and careful manner they folded up the clothes, and
+laid them one by one in the basket without any mischief, until, just
+as the two biggest boys were lifting their burden to carry it away,
+they felt something tugging at it from underneath.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloo! Where are you taking all this rubbish? Better give
+it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, if you please," said they, very civilly, not to offend the little
+brown man. "We'll not trouble you, thanks! We'd rather do it
+ourselves; for poor Gardener is very ill, and his wife is very miserable,
+and we are extremely sorry for them both."</p>
+
+<p>"Extremely sorry!" cried Brownie, throwing up his cap in the
+air, and tumbling head over heels in an excited manner. "What
+in the world does extremely sorry mean?"</p>
+
+<p>The children could not explain, especially to a Brownie; but they
+thought they understood&mdash;anyhow, they felt it. And they looked so
+sorrowful that the Brownie could not tell what to make of it.</p>
+
+<p>He could not be said to be sorry, since, being a Brownie, and not
+a human being, knowing right from wrong, he never tried particularly
+to do right, and had no idea that he was doing wrong. But he seemed
+to have an idea that he was troubling the children, and he never liked
+to see them look unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>So he turned head over heels six times running, and then came
+back again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The silly old woman! I washed her clothes for her last night
+in a way she didn't expect. I hadn't any soap, so I used a little
+mud and coal-dust, and very pretty they looked. Ha, ha, ha! Shall
+I wash them over again to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, please don't!" implored the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I starch and iron them? I'll do it beautifully. One&mdash;two&mdash;three,
+five&mdash;six&mdash;seven, Abracadabra, tum&mdash;tum&mdash;ti!" shouted
+he, jabbering all sorts of nonsense, as it seemed to the children, and
+playing such antics that they stood and stared in the utmost amazement,
+and quite forgot the clothes. When they looked round again,
+the basket was gone.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"Seek till you find, seek till you find,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Under the biggest gooseberry-bush, exactly to your mind."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>They heard him singing this remarkable rhyme, long after they
+had lost sight of him. And then they all set about searching; but it
+was a long while before they found, and still longer before they could
+decide, which was the biggest gooseberry-bush, each child having
+his or her opinion&mdash;sometimes a very strong one&mdash;on the matter.
+At last they agreed to settle it by pulling half-a-dozen little sticks,
+to see which stick was the longest, and the child that held it was to
+decide the gooseberry-bush.</p>
+
+<p>This done, underneath the branches what should they find but
+the identical basket of clothes! only, instead of being roughly dried,
+they were all starched and ironed in the most beautiful manner. As
+for the shirts, they really were a picture to behold, and the stockings
+were all folded up, and even darned in one or two places, as neatly
+as possible. And strange to tell, there was not a single black mark
+of feet or fingers on any one of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Kind little Brownie! clever little Brownie!" cried the children
+in chorus, and thought this was the most astonishing trick he had
+ever played.</p>
+
+<p>What the Gardener's wife said about it, whether they told her any
+thing, or allowed her to suppose that the clothes had been done in
+their own laundry instead of the Brownie's (wherever that establishment
+might be), is more than I can tell. Of one thing only I am
+certain&mdash;that the little people said nothing but what was true. Also,
+that the very minute they got home they told their mother every thing.</p>
+
+<p>But for a long time after that they were a good deal troubled.
+Gardener got better, and went hobbling about the place again, to
+his own and every body's great content, and his wife was less sharp-tongued
+and complaining than usual&mdash;indeed, she had nothing to
+complain of. All the family were very flourishing, except the little
+Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>Often there was heard a curious sound all over the house; it might
+have been rats squeaking behind the wainscot&mdash;the elders said it
+was&mdash;but the children were sure it was a sort of weeping and wailing.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"They've stolen my coal,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And I haven't a hole</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To hide in;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Not even a house</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">One could ask a mouse</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To bide in."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>A most forlorn tune it was, ending in a dreary minor key, and it
+lasted for months and months&mdash;at least the children said it did.
+And they were growing quite dull for want of a playfellow, when,
+by the greatest good luck in the world, there came to the house not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+only a new lot of kittens, but a new baby. And the new baby was
+everybody's pet, including the Brownie's.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 424px;">
+<img src="images/i028.jpg" width="424" height="600" alt="The new baby was everybody&#39;s pet.&mdash;Page 87" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The new baby was everybody&#39;s pet.&mdash;Page 87</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>From that time, though he was not often seen, he was continually
+heard up and down the staircase, where he was frequently mistaken
+for Tiny or the cat, and sent sharply down again, which was wasting
+a great deal of wholesome anger upon Mr. Nobody. Or he lurked
+in odd corners of the nursery, whither the baby was seen crawling
+eagerly after nothing in particular, or sitting laughing with all her
+might at something&mdash;probably her own toes.</p>
+
+<p>But, as Brownie was never seen, he was never suspected. And
+since he did no mischief&mdash;neither pinched the baby nor broke the
+toys, left no soap in the bath and no footmarks about the room&mdash;but
+was always a well-conducted Brownie in every way, he was
+allowed to inhabit the nursery (or supposed to do so, since, as nobody
+saw him, nobody could prevent him), until the children were grown
+up into men and women.</p>
+
+<p>After that he retired into his coal-cellar, and, for all I know, he
+may live there still, and have gone through hundreds of adventures
+since; but as I never heard them, I can't tell them. Only I think,
+if I could be a little child again, I should exceedingly like a Brownie
+to play with me. Should not you?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/i029.png" width="150" height="83" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/i030.png" width="600" height="120" alt="Some Poems For Children By Miss Mulock" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h3>THE BLACKBIRD AND THE ROOKS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">A slender</span> young Blackbird built in a thorn-tree<br />
+A spruce little fellow as ever could be;<br />
+His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black,<br />
+So long was his tail, and so glossy his back,<br />
+That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her eggs,<br />
+And only just left them to stretch her poor legs,<br />
+And pick for a minute the worm she preferred,<br />
+Thought there never was seen such a beautiful bird.<br />
+<br />
+And such a kind husband! how early and late<br />
+He would sit at the top of the old garden gate,<br />
+And sing, just as merry as if it were June,<br />
+Being ne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune.<br />
+"So unlike those Rooks, dear; from morning till night<br />
+They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight,<br />
+And wrangle and jangle, and plunder&mdash;while we<br />
+Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree."<br />
+<br />
+Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook<br />
+Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook,<br />
+And seizing a stick from the nest&mdash;"Come, I say,<br />
+That will just suit me, neighbor"&mdash;flew with it away<br />
+The lady loud twittered&mdash;her husband soon heard:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>Though peaceful, he was not a cowardly bird;<br />
+And with arguments angry enough to o'erwhelm<br />
+A whole Rookery&mdash;flew to the top of the elm.<br />
+<br />
+"How dare you, you&mdash;" (thief he was going to say;<br />
+But a civiller sentiment came in the way:<br />
+For he knew 'tis no good, and it anyhow shames<br />
+A gentleman, calling strange gentlemen names:)<br />
+"Pray what is your motive, Sir Rook, for such tricks,<br />
+As building your mansion with other folks' sticks?<br />
+I request you'll restore them, in justice and law."<br />
+At which the whole colony set up a&mdash;caw!<br />
+<br />
+But Blackbird, not silenced, then spoke out again;<br />
+"I've built my small nest with much labor and pain.<br />
+I'm a poor singing gentleman, Sirs, it is true,<br />
+Though cockneys do often mistake me for you;<br />
+But I keep Mrs. Blackbird, and four little eggs,<br />
+And neither e'er pilfers, or borrows, or begs.<br />
+Now have I not right on my side, do you see?"<br />
+But they flew at and pecked him all down the elm-tree.<br />
+<br />
+Ah! wickedness prospers sometimes, I much fear;<br />
+And virtue's not always victorious, that's clear:<br />
+At least, not at first: for it must be confessed<br />
+Poor Blackbird lost many a stick from his nest;<br />
+And his unkind grand neighbors with scoffing caw-caws,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>In his voice and his character found many flaws,<br />
+And jeered him and mocked him; but when they'd all done,<br />
+He flew to his tree and sang cheerily on.<br />
+<br />
+At length May arrived with her garlands of leaves;<br />
+The swallows were building beneath the farm-eaves,<br />
+Wrens, linnets, and sparrows, on every hedge-side,<br />
+Were bringing their families out with great pride;<br />
+While far above all, on the tallest tree-top,<br />
+With a flutter and clamor that never did stop,<br />
+The haughty old Rooks held their heads up so high,<br />
+And dreamed not of trouble&mdash;until it drew nigh!<br />
+<br />
+One morning at seven, as he came with delight<br />
+To his wife's pretty parlor of may-blossoms white,<br />
+Having fed all his family ere rise of sun,&mdash;<br />
+Mr. Blackbird perceived&mdash;a big man with a gun;<br />
+Who also perceived him: "See, Charlie, among<br />
+That may, sits the Blackbird we've heard for so long:<br />
+Most likely his nest's there&mdash;how frightened he looks!<br />
+Nay, Blackie, we're not come for you, but the Rooks."<br />
+<br />
+I don't say 'twas cruel&mdash;I can't say 'twas kind&mdash;<br />
+On the subject I haven't quite made up my mind:<br />
+But those guns went pop-popping all morning, alas!<br />
+And young Rooks kept dropping among the long grass,<br />
+Till good Mr. Blackbird, who watched the whole thing,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>For pity could scarcely a single note sing,<br />
+And in the May sunset he hardly could bear<br />
+To hear the returning Rooks' caw of despair.<br />
+<br />
+"O, dear Mrs. Blackbird," at last warbled he,<br />
+"How happy we are in our humble thorn-tree;<br />
+How gaily we live, living honest and poor,<br />
+How sweet are the may-blossoms over our door."<br />
+"And then our dear children," the mother replied,<br />
+And she nested them close to her warm feathered side,<br />
+And with a soft twitter of drowsy content,<br />
+In the quiet May moonlight to sleep they all went.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3><br />THE SHAKING OF THE PEAR-TREE</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Of</span> all days I remember,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In summers passed away,</span><br />
+Was "the shaking of the pear-tree,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In grandma's orchard gay.</span><br />
+<br />
+A large old-fashioned orchard,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With long grass under foot,</span><br />
+And blackberry-brambles crawling<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In many a tangled shoot.</span><br />
+<br />
+From cherry time, till damsons<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dropped from the branches sere,</span><br />
+That wonderful old orchard<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was full of fruit all year;</span><br />
+<br />
+We pick'd it up in baskets,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or pluck'd it from the wall;</span><br />
+But the shaking of the pear-tree<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was the grandest treat of all.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Long, long the days we counted</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Until that day drew nigh;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Then, how we watched the sun set,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And criticised the sky!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">If rain&mdash;"'Twill clear at midnight;"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">If dawn broke chill and gray,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"O many a cloudy morning</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Turns out a lovely day."</span><br />
+<br />
+So off we started gaily,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heedless of jolt or jar;</span><br />
+Through town and lane, and hamlet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In old Llewellyn's car.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He's dead and gone&mdash;Llewellyn,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">These twenty years, I doubt:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If I put him in this poem,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He'll never find it out,</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The patient, kind Llewellyn&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Whose broad face smiled all o'er,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">As he lifted out us children</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">At grandma's very door.</span><br />
+<br />
+And there stood Grandma's Betty,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With cheeks like apples red;</span><br />
+And Dash, the spaniel, waddled<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Out of his cosy bed.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With silky ears down dropping,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And coat of chestnut pale;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He was so fat and lazy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He scarce could wag his tail.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Poor Dash is dead, and buried</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Under the lilac-tree;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And Betty's old,&mdash;as, children,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We all may one day be.</span><br />
+<br />
+I hope no child will vex us,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As we vexed Betty then,</span><br />
+With winding up the draw-well,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or hunting the old hen.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And teasing, teasing, teasing,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Till afternoon wore round,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And shaken pears came tumbling</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">In showers upon the ground.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">O how we jumped and shouted!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">O how we plunged amid</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The long grass, where the treasures,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Dropped down and deftly hid;</span><br />
+<br />
+Long, slender-shaped, red-russet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or yellow just like gold;</span><br />
+Ah! never pears have tasted<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like those sweet pears of old!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">We ate&mdash;I'd best not mention</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">How many: paused to fill</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Big basket after basket;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Working with right good-will;</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then hunted round the orchard</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">For half-ripe plums&mdash;in vain;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">So, back unto the pear-tree,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">To eat, and eat again.</span><br />
+<br />
+I'm not on my confession,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And therefore need not say</span><br />
+How tired, and cross, and sleepy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some were ere close of day;</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For pleasure has its ending,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And eke its troubles too;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Which you'll find out, my children,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">As well as we could do.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But yet this very minute,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I seem to see it all&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The pear-tree's empty branches</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">The gray of evening-fall;</span><br />
+<br />
+The children's homeward silence,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The furnace fires that glowed,</span><br />
+Each mile or so, out streaming<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Across the lonely road;</span><br />
+<br />
+And high, high set in heaven,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One large bright, beauteous star,</span><br />
+That shone between the curtains<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of old Llewellyn's car.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE WONDERFUL APPLE-TREE.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">Come</span> here, my dear boys, and I'll tell you a fable,<br />
+Which you may believe as much as you're able;<br />
+It isn't all true, nor all false, I'll be bound&mdash;<br />
+Of the tree that bears apples all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+There was a Dean Tucker of Gloster city,<br />
+Who may have been wise, or worthy, or witty;<br />
+But I know nothing of him, the more's the pity,<br />
+Save that he was Dean Tucker of Gloster city.<br />
+<br />
+And walking one day with a musing air<br />
+In his Deanery garden, close by where<br />
+The great cathedral's west window's seen,&mdash;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>"I'll plant an apple," said Tucker the Dean.<br />
+<br />
+The apple was planted, the apple grew,<br />
+A stout young tree, full of leaves not few;<br />
+The apple was grafted, the apple bore<br />
+Of goodly apples, one, two, three, four.<br />
+<br />
+The old Dean walked in his garden fair,<br />
+"I'm glad I planted that young tree there,<br />
+Though it was but a shoot, or some old tree's sucker;<br />
+I'll taste it to-morrow," said good Dean Tucker.<br />
+<br />
+But lo, in the night when (they say) trees talk,<br />
+And some of the liveliest get up and walk,<br />
+With fairies abroad for watch and warden&mdash;<br />
+There was such a commotion in the Dean's garden!<br />
+<br />
+"I will not be gathered," the apple-tree said,<br />
+"Was it for this I blossomed so red?<br />
+Hung out my fruit all the summer days,<br />
+Got so much sunshine, and pleasure and praise?"<br />
+<br />
+"Ah!" interrupted a solemn red plum,<br />
+"This is the end to which all of us come;<br />
+Last month I was laden with hundreds&mdash;but now"&mdash;<br />
+And he sighed the last little plum off from his bough.<br />
+<br />
+"Nay, friend, take it easy," the pear-tree replied<br />
+(A lady-like person against the wall-side).<br />
+"Man guards, nurtures, trains us from top down to root:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>I think 'tis but fair we should give him our fruit."<br />
+<br />
+"No, I'll not be gathered," the apple resumed,<br />
+And shook his young branches, and fluttered and fumed;<br />
+"And I'll not drop neither, as some of you drop,<br />
+Over-ripe: I'm determined to keep my whole crop.<br />
+<br />
+"And I with"&mdash;O'er his branches just then <i>something</i> flew;<br />
+It seemed like moth, large and grayish of hue.<br />
+But it was a Fairy. Her voice soft did sound,<br />
+"Be the tree that bears apples all the year round."<br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+The Dean to his apple-tree, came, full of hope,<br />
+But tough was the fruit-stalk as double-twist rope,<br />
+And when he had cut it with patience and pain,<br />
+He bit just one mouthful&mdash;and never again.<br />
+<br />
+"An apple so tasteless, so juiceless, so hard,<br />
+Is, sure, good for nought but to bowl in the yard;<br />
+The choir-boys may have it." But choir-boys soon found<br />
+It was worthless&mdash;the tree that bore all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+And Gloster lads climbing the Deanery wall<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>Were punished, as well might all young <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'theives'">thieves</ins> appal,<br />
+For, clutching the booty for which they did sin,<br />
+They bit at the apples&mdash;and left their teeth in!<br />
+<br />
+And thus all the year from October till May,<br />
+From May till October, the apples shone gay;<br />
+But 'twas just outside glitter, for no hand was found<br />
+To pluck at the fruit which hung all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+And so till they rotted, those queer apples hung,<br />
+The bare boughs and blossoms and ripe fruit among<br />
+And in Gloster city it still may be found&mdash;<br />
+The tree that bears apples all the year round.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This tree, known among gardeners by the name of "Winter-hanger" or "Forbidden Fruit," was
+planted by Dean Tucker in 1760. It, or an off shoot from it, still exists in the city of Gloucester.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3><br />THE JEALOUS BOY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">What</span>, my little foolish Ned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Think you mother's eyes are blind,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That her heart has grown unkind,</span><br />
+And she will not turn her head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cannot see, for all her joy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her poor jealous little boy?</span><br />
+<br />
+What though sister be the pet&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Laughs, and leaps, and clings, and loves,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With her eyes as soft as dove's&mdash;</span><br />
+Why should yours with tears be wet?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why such angry tears let fall?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother's heart has room for all.</span><br />
+<br />
+Mother's heart is very wide,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And its doors all open stand:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lightest touch of tiniest hand</span><br />
+She will never put aside.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why her happiness destroy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Foolish, naughty, jealous boy?</span><br />
+<br />
+Come within the circle bright,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where we laugh, and dance, and sing,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Full of love to everything;</span><br />
+As God loves us, day and night,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And <i>forgives</i> us. Come&mdash;with joy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother too forgives her boy.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE STORY OF THE BIRKENHEAD</h3>
+
+<h4>TOLD TO TWO CHILDREN</h4>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">And</span> so you want <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'fairy a'">a fairy</ins> tale,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My little maidens twain?</span><br />
+Well, sit beside the waterfall,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Noisy with last night's rain;</span><br />
+<br />
+On couch of moss, with elfin spears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bristling, all fierce to see,</span><br />
+When from the yet brown moor down drops<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lonely April bee.</span><br />
+<br />
+All the wide valley blushes green,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While, in far depths below,</span><br />
+Wharfe flashes out a great bright eye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then hides his shining flow;&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Wharfe, busy, restless, rapid Wharfe,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The glory of our dale;</span><br />
+O I could of the River Wharfe<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tell such a fairy tale!</span><br />
+<br />
+"The Boy of Egremond," you cry,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"And all the 'bootless bene:'</span><br />
+We know that poem, every word,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And we the Strid have seen."</span><br />
+<br />
+No, clever damsels: though the tale<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seems still to bear a part,</span><br />
+In every lave of Wharfe's bright wave,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The broken mother's heart&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Little you know of broken hearts,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My Kitty, blithe and wise,</span><br />
+Grave Mary, with the woman soul<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dawning through childish eyes.</span><br />
+<br />
+And long, long distant may God keep<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The day when each shall know</span><br />
+The entrance to His kingdom through<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His baptism of woe!</span><br />
+<br />
+But yet 'tis good to hear of grief<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which He permits to be;</span><br />
+Even as in our green inland home<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We talk of wrecks at sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+So on this lovely day, when spring<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wakes soft o'er moor and dale,</span><br />
+I'll tell&mdash;not quite your wish&mdash;but yet<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A noble "fairy" tale.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+'Twas six o'clock in the morning,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sea like crystal lay,</span><br />
+When the good troop-ship Birkenhead<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Set sail from Simon's Bay.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Cape of Good Hope on her right<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gloomed at her through the noon:</span><br />
+Brief tropic twilight fled, and night<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fell suddenly and soon.</span><br />
+<br />
+At eight o'clock in the evening<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dim grew the pleasant land;</span><br />
+O'er smoothest seas the southern heaven<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its starry arch out-spanned.</span><br />
+<br />
+The soldiers on the bulwarks leaned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Smoked, chatted; and below</span><br />
+The soldiers' wives sang babes to sleep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While on the ship sailed slow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Six hundred and thirty souls held she,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good, bad, old, young, rich, poor;</span><br />
+Six hundred and thirty living souls&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">God knew them all.&mdash;Secure</span><br />
+<br />
+He counted them in His right hand,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That held the hungering seas;</span><br />
+And to four hundred came a voice&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The Master hath need of these."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+On, onward, still the vessel went<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till, with a sudden shock,</span><br />
+Like one that's clutched by unseen Death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She struck upon a rock.</span><br />
+<br />
+She filled. Not hours, not minutes left;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each second a life's gone:</span><br />
+Drowned in their berths, washed overboard,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lost, swimming, one by one;</span><br />
+<br />
+Till, o'er this chaos of despair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rose, like celestial breath,</span><br />
+The law of order, discipline,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Obedience unto death.</span><br />
+<br />
+The soldiers mustered upon deck,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As mute as on parade;</span><br />
+"Women and children to the boats!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And not a man gainsayed.</span><br />
+<br />
+Without a murmur or a moan<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They stood, formed rank and file,</span><br />
+Between the dreadful crystal seas<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the sky's dreadful smile.</span><br />
+<br />
+In face of death they did their work<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As they in life would do,</span><br />
+Embarking at a quiet quay&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A quiet, silent crew.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Now each man for himself. To the boats!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arose a passing cry.</span><br />
+The soldier-captain answered, "Swamp<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The women and babes?&mdash;No, die!"</span><br />
+<br />
+And so they died. Each in his place,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Obedient to command,</span><br />
+They went down with the sinking ship,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went down in sight of land.</span><br />
+<br />
+The great sea oped her mouth, and closed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O'er them. Awhile they trod</span><br />
+The valley of the shadow of death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And then were safe with God.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+My little girlies&mdash;What! your tears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are dropping on the grass,</span><br />
+Over my more than "fairy" tale,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A tale that "really was!"</span><br />
+<br />
+Nay, dry them. If we could but see<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The joy in angels' eyes</span><br />
+O'er good lives, or heroic deaths<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of pure self-sacrifice,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+We should not weep o'er these that sleep&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their short, sharp struggle o'er&mdash;</span><br />
+Under the rolling waves that break<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon the Afric shore.</span><br />
+<br />
+God works not as man works, nor sees<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As man sees: though we mark</span><br />
+Ofttimes the moving of His hands<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath the eternal Dark.</span><br />
+<br />
+But yet we know that all is well<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That He, who loved all these,</span><br />
+Loves children laughing on the moor,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birds singing in the trees;</span><br />
+<br />
+That He who made both life and death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He knoweth which is best:</span><br />
+We live to Him, we die to Him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And leave Him all the rest.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />BIRDS IN THE SNOW</h3>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Birds in the Snow">
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">CHILD</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">I wish</span> I were a little bird</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the sun shines</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>And the wind whispers low,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through the tall pines,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>I'd rock in the elm tops,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rifle the pear-tree,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hide in the cherry boughs,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">O such a rare tree!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">I wish I were a little bird;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">All summer long</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'd fly so merrily</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sing such a song!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Song that should never cease</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">While daylight lasted,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Wings that should never tire</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Howe'er they hasted.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><br />MOTHER</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">But if you were a little bird&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">My baby-blossom.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Nestling so cosily</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">In mother's bosom,&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">A bird, as we see them now,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">When the snows harden,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">And the wind's blighting breath</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Howls round the garden:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br />What would you do, poor bird,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In winter drear?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>No nest to creep into,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No mother near:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hungry and desolate,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Weary and woeful,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>All the earth bound with frost,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All the sky snow-full?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><br />CHILD (<i>thoughtfully</i>).</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">That would be sad, and yet</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hear what I'd do&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Mother, in winter time</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'd come to you!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">If you can like the birds</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Spite of their thieving,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Give them your trees to build,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Garden to live in,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 10em;">I think if I were a bird</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">When winter comes</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10em;">I'd trust you, mother dear,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">For a few crumbs,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10em;">Whether I sang or not,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">Were lark, thrush, or starling.&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 13em;">MOTHER (<i>aside</i>).</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">Then&mdash;Father&mdash;I trust <i>Thee</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 12em;">With this my darling.</span></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE LITTLE COMFORTER</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">What</span> is wrong with my big brother?"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Says the child;</span><br />
+For they two had got no mother<br />
+And she loved him like no other:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">If he smiled,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">All the world seemed bright and gay</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">To this happy little May.</span><br />
+<br />
+If to her he sharply spoke,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">This big brother&mdash;</span><br />
+Then her tender heart nigh broke;<br />
+But the cruel pain that woke,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">She would smother&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">As a little woman can;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Was he not almost a man?</span><br />
+<br />
+But when trouble or disgrace<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Smote the boy,</span><br />
+She would lift her gentle face&mdash;<br />
+Surely 'twas her own right place.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">To bring joy?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">For she loved him&mdash;loved him so!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Whether he was good or no</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">May be he will never feel</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Half her love;</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Wound her, and forget to heal:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Idle words are sharp as steel:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">But above,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I know what the angels say</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Of this silent little May.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />DON'T BE AFRAID.</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Don't</span> be afraid of the dark,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My daughter, dear as my soul!</span><br />
+You see but a part of the gloomy world,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But I&mdash;I have seen the whole,</span><br />
+And I know each step of the fearsome way,<br />
+Till the shadows brighten to open day.<br />
+<br />
+Don't be afraid of pain,<br />
+My tender little child:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When its smart is worst there comes strength to bear,</span><br />
+And it seems as if angels smiled,&mdash;<br />
+As I smile, dear, when I hurt you now.<br />
+In binding up that wound on your brow.<br />
+<br />
+Don't be afraid of grief,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Twill come&mdash;as night follows day,</span><br />
+But the bleakest sky has tiny rifts<br />
+When the stars shine through&mdash;as to say<br />
+Wait, wait a little&mdash;till night is o'er<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>And beautiful day come back once more.<br />
+<br />
+O child, be afraid of sin,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But have no other fear,</span><br />
+For God's in the dark, as well as the light;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And while we can feel Him near,</span><br />
+His hand that He gives, His love that He gave,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lead safely, even to the dark of the grave.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GIRL AND BOY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Alfred</span> is gentle as a girl,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But Judith longs to be a boy!</span><br />
+Would cut off every pretty curl<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With eager joy!</span><br />
+<br />
+Hates to be called "my dear"&mdash;or kissed:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For dollies does not care one fig:</span><br />
+Goes, sticking hands up to the wrist<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In jackets big.</span><br />
+<br />
+Would like to do whate'er boy can;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Play cricket&mdash;even to go school:</span><br />
+It is so grand to be a man!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A girl's a fool!</span><br />
+<br />
+But Alfred smiles superior love<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">On all these innocent vagaries.</span><br />
+He'd hate a goose! but yet a dove<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ah, much more rare is!</span><br />
+<br />
+She's anything but dove, good sooth!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But she's his dear and only sister:</span><br />
+And, had she been a boy, in truth<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How he'd have missed her.</span><br />
+<br />
+So, gradually her folly dies,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And she'll consent to be just human,</span><br />
+When there shines out of girlish eyes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The real Woman.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />AGNES AT PRAYER</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">Our</span> Father which art in heaven,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Little Agnes prays,</span><br />
+Though her kneeling is but show,<br />
+Though she is too young to know<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All, or half she says.</span><br />
+God will hear her, Agnes mild,<br />
+God will love the innocent child.<br />
+<br />
+"Our Father which art in heaven."<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She has a father here,</span><br />
+Does she think of his kind eyes,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>Tones that ne'er in anger rise&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Yes, dear," or "No, dear."</span><br />
+They will haunt her whole life long<br />
+Like a sweet pathetic song.<br />
+<br />
+"Our Father which art in heaven,"<br />
+Through thy peaceful prayer,<br />
+Think of the known father's face,<br />
+Of his bosom, happy place;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Safely sheltered there;</span><br />
+And so blessed&mdash;long may He bless!<br />
+Think too of the fatherless.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GOING TO WORK</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Come</span> along for the work is ready&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rough it may be, rough, tough and hard&mdash;</span><br />
+But&mdash;fourteen years old&mdash;stout, strong and steady,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life's game's beginning, lad!&mdash;play your card&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Mother stands at the door-step crying<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Well but she has a brave heart too:</span><br />
+She'll try to be glad&mdash;there's nought like trying,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She's proud of having a son like you.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Young as she is, her hair is whitening,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She has ploughed thro' years of sorrow deep,</span><br />
+She looks at her boy, and her eyes are brightening,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shame if ever you make them weep!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Bravo! See how the brown cheek flushes!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ready to work as hard as you can?</span><br />
+I have always faith in a boy that blushes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">None will blush for him, when he's a man.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come along.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THREE COMPANIONS</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">We</span> go on our way together,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby, and dog, and I;</span><br />
+Three merry companions,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Neath any sort of sky;</span><br />
+Blue as her pretty eyes are,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or gray, like his dear old tail;</span><br />
+Be it windy, or cloudy, or stormy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our courage does never fail.</span><br />
+<br />
+Sometimes the snow lies thickly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Under the hedge-row bleak;</span><br />
+Then baby cries "Pretty, pretty,"<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The only word she can speak.</span><br />
+Sometimes two rivers of water<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Run down the muddy lane;</span><br />
+Then dog leaps backwards and forwards<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Barking with might and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'ma n'">main</ins>.</span><br />
+<br />
+Baby's a little lady,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dog is a gentleman brave:</span><br />
+If he had two legs as you have<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He'd kneel to her like a slave;</span><br />
+As it is he loves and protects her,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As dog and gentleman can;</span><br />
+I'd rather be a kind doggie<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I think, than a brute of a man.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE MOTHERLESS CHILD</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">She</span> was going home down the lonely street,<br />
+A widow-woman with weary feet<br />
+And weary eyes that seldom smiled:<br />
+She had neither mother, sister, nor child.<br />
+She earned her bread with a patient heart,<br />
+And ate it quietly and apart,<br />
+In her silent home from day to day,<br />
+No one to say her "ay," or "nay."<br />
+<br />
+She was going home without care to haste;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>What should she haste for? On she paced<br />
+Through the snowy night so bleak and wild,<br />
+When she thought she heard the cry of a child,<br />
+A feeble cry, not of hunger or pain,<br />
+But just of sorrow. It came again.<br />
+She stopped&mdash;she listened&mdash;she almost smiled&mdash;<br />
+"That sounds like a wail of a motherless child."<br />
+<br />
+A house stood open&mdash;no soul was there&mdash;<br />
+Her dull, tired feet grew light on the stair;<br />
+She mounted&mdash;entered. One bed on the floor,<br />
+And Something in it: and close by the door,<br />
+Watching the stark form, stretched out still,<br />
+Ignorant knowing not good nor ill,<br />
+But only a want and a misery wild,<br />
+Crouched the dead mother's motherless child.<br />
+<br />
+What next? Come say what would you have done<br />
+Dear children playing about in the sun,<br />
+Or sitting by pleasant fireside warm,<br />
+Hearing outside the howling storm?<br />
+The widow went in and she shut the door,<br />
+She stayed by the dead an hour or more&mdash;<br />
+And when she went home through the night so wild,<br />
+She had in her arms a sleeping child.<br />
+<br />
+Now she is old and feeble and dull,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>But her empty heart is happy and full<br />
+If her crust be hard and her cottage poor<br />
+There's a young foot tripping across the floor,<br />
+Young hands to help her that never tire,<br />
+And a young voice singing beside the fire;<br />
+And her tired eyes look as if they smiled,&mdash;<br />
+Childless mother and motherless child.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE WREN'S NEST</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">I took</span> the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heaven forgive me!</span><br />
+Its merry architects so small<br />
+Had scarcely finished their wee hall,<br />
+That empty still and neat and fair<br />
+Hung idly in the summer air.<br />
+The mossy walls, the dainty door,<br />
+Where Love should enter and explore,<br />
+And Love sit caroling outside,<br />
+And Love within chirp multiplied;&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heaven forgive me!</span><br />
+<br />
+How many hours of happy pains<br />
+Through early frosts and April rains,<br />
+How many songs at eve and morn<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>O'er springing grass and greening corn,<br />
+Before the pretty house was made!<br />
+One little minute, only one,<br />
+And she'll fly back, and find it&mdash;gone!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bird, forgive me!</span><br />
+<br />
+Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,<br />
+Ye have before you <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'al'">all</ins> the year,<br />
+And every wood holds nooks for you,<br />
+In which to sing and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bui d'">build</ins> and woo<br />
+One piteous cry of birdish pain&mdash;<br />
+And ye'll begin your life again,<br />
+Forgetting quite the lost, lost home<br />
+In many a busy home to come&mdash;<br />
+But I?&mdash;Your wee house keep I must<br />
+Until it crumble into <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'du t'">dust</ins>.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">God forgive me!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />A CHILD'S <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'SMIL'">SMILE</ins></h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">A child's</span> smile&mdash;nothing more;<br />
+Quiet and soft and grave, and seldom seen,<br />
+Like summer lightning o'er,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>Leaving the little face again serene.<br />
+<br />
+I think, boy well-beloved,<br />
+Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far<br />
+Thy childhood is removed<br />
+From sports that dear to other children are,<br />
+<br />
+On this pale cheek has thrown<br />
+The brightness of his countenance, and made<br />
+A beauty like his own&mdash;<br />
+That, while we see it, we are half afraid,<br />
+<br />
+And marvel, will it stay?<br />
+Or, long ere manhood, will that angel fair,<br />
+Departing some sad day,<br />
+Steal the child-smile and leave the shadow care?<br />
+<br />
+Nay, fear not. As is given<br />
+Unto this child the father watching o'er,<br />
+His angel up in heaven<br />
+Beholds Our Father's face for evermore.<br />
+<br />
+And he will help him bear<br />
+His burthen, as his father helps him now;<br />
+So he may come to wear<br />
+That happy child-smile on an old man's brow.<br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">A little</span> bird flew my window by,<br />
+'Twixt the level street and the level sky,<br />
+The level rows of houses tall,<br />
+The long low sun on the level wall<br />
+And all that the little bird did say<br />
+Was, "Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+A little bird sang behind my chair,<br />
+From the level line of corn-fields fair,<br />
+The smooth green <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'hedgegrow's'">hedgerow's</ins> level bound<br />
+Not a furlong off&mdash;the horizon's bound,<br />
+And the level lawn where the sun all day<br />
+Burns:&mdash;"Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+A little bird sings above my bed,<br />
+And I know if I could but lift my head<br />
+I would see the sun set, round and grand,<br />
+Upon level sea and level sand,<br />
+While beyond the misty distance gray<br />
+Is "Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+I think that a little bird will sing<br />
+Over a grassy mound, next spring,<br />
+Where something that once was <i>me</i>, ye'll leave<br />
+In the level sunshine, morn and eve:<br />
+But I shall be gone, past night, past day,<br />
+Over the hills and far away.<br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE TWO RAINDROPS</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Said</span> a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!<br />
+I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:<br />
+I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;<br />
+Swelling and filling and swelling again.<br />
+<br />
+"All the little rain-drops unto me run,<br />
+I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:<br />
+All the pretty children stand and at me stare;<br />
+Pointing with their fingers&mdash;'That's the biggest drop there.'"<br />
+<br />
+"Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;<br />
+"I don't myself see much cause for pride:<br />
+The bigger you swell up,&mdash;we know well, my friend,&mdash;<br />
+The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.<br />
+<br />
+"For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,<br />
+Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;<br />
+Looking at the firelight and the children fair,&mdash;<br />
+Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."<br />
+<br />
+"Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;<br />
+I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;<br />
+You'll run a race with me?&mdash;No?&mdash;Then 'tis plain<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>I am the largest drop in the whole pane."<br />
+<br />
+Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:<br />
+Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:<br />
+Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,<br />
+Just reached the window-sill&mdash;one splash&mdash;and was o'er.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE YEAR'S END</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">So</span> grows the rising year, and so declines<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end</span><br />
+Even as by slow and ever-varying signs<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.</span><br />
+<br />
+Great Father, who of every one takest care,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From him on whom full ninety years are piled</span><br />
+To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who children loves, being once himself a child,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+O make us day by day like Him to grow;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;</span><br />
+Because He loves those who obey Him so;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because His love is the best thing to seek,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because without His love, all loves are weak,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+All earthly joys are miserable and poor,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,</span><br />
+Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens&mdash;sure<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That they will flourish&mdash;till in mid-day skies</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.</span><br />
+<br />
+O God, who art alone the life and light<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of this strange world to which as babes we come,</span><br />
+Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And at our year's end, Father, take us home.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+"<span class="smcap">Why</span> thus aside your playthings throw,<br />
+Over the wet lawn hurrying so?<br />
+Where are you going, I want to know?"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"I'm running after the rainbow."</span><br />
+<br />
+"Little boy, with your bright brown eyes<br />
+Full of an innocent surprise,<br />
+Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What do you want with the rainbow?"</span><br />
+<br />
+Arthur paused in his headlong race,<br />
+Turned to his mother his hot, young face,<br />
+"Mother, I want to reach the place<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">At either end of the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.<br />
+Such beautiful things may oft be found<br />
+Buried below, or scattered round,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If one can but catch the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+"O please don't hinder me, mother dear,<br />
+It will all be gone while I stay here;"<br />
+So with many a hope and not one fear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The child ran after the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Over the damp grass, ankle deep,<br />
+Clambering up the hilly steep,<br />
+And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But he couldn't catch the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+And when he came out at the wood's far side,<br />
+The sun was setting in golden pride,<br />
+There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But not a sign of the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,<br />
+"I wish I had thought what mother meant;<br />
+I wish I had only been content,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And not ran after the rainbow."</span><br />
+<br />
+And as he came sadly down the hill,<br />
+Stood mother scolding&mdash;but smiling still,<br />
+And hugged him up close, as mothers will:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So he quite forgot the rainbow.</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />DICK AND I</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">We're</span> going to a party, my brother Dick and I:<br />
+The best, grandest party we ever did try:<br />
+And I'm very happy&mdash;but Dick is so shy!<br />
+<br />
+I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,<br />
+And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:<br />
+Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!<br />
+<br />
+There is to be music&mdash;a real soldier's band:<br />
+And <i>I</i> mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,<br />
+Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.<br />
+<br />
+But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:<br />
+Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try&mdash;<br />
+Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.<br />
+<br />
+And I'm fond of my brother&mdash;this darling old Dick:<br />
+I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,<br />
+He's bad at a party&mdash;but at school he's a brick!<br />
+<br />
+So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,<br />
+Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.<br />
+<br />
+And his going to the party is just to please <i>me</i>,<br />
+Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!<br />
+But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."<br />
+<br />
+That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.<br />
+Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;<br />
+I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.<br />
+<br />
+And when he's a great man, a poet you see,<br />
+O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;<br />
+Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GRANDPAPA</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">Grandpapa</span> lives at the end of the lane,<br />
+His cottage is small and its furniture plain;<br />
+No pony to ride on, no equipage grand,&mdash;<br />
+A garden, and just half an acre of land;<br />
+No dainties to dine off, and very few toys,&mdash;<br />
+Yet is grandpapa's house the delight of the boys.<br />
+<br />
+Grandpapa once lived in one little room,<br />
+Grandpapa worked all day long at his loom:<br />
+He speaks with queer accent, does dear grandpapa,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>And not half so well as papa and mamma.<br />
+The girls think his clothes are a little rough,<br />
+But the boys all declare they can't love him enough.<br />
+<br />
+A man of the people in manners and mind,<br />
+Yet so honest, so tender, so clever, so kind:<br />
+Makes the best of his lot still, where'er it be cast.<br />
+A sturdy old Englishman, game to the last.<br />
+Though simple and humble and unknown to fame,<br />
+It's good luck to the boys to bear grandpapa's name!<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />MONSIEUR ET MADEMOISELLE.</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Deux</span> petits enfants Francais,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Monsieur et Mademoiselle.</span><br />
+Of what can they be talking, child?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed I cannot tell.</span><br />
+But of this I am very certain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You would find naught to blame</span><br />
+In that sweet French politeness&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wish we had the same.</span><br />
+<br />
+Monsieur has got a melon,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And scoops it with his knife,</span><br />
+While Mademoiselle sits watching him:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No rudeness here&mdash;no strife:</span><br />
+Though could you listen only,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They're chattering like two pies&mdash;</span><br />
+French magpies, understand me&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So merry and so wise.</span><br />
+<br />
+Their floor is bare of carpet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their curtains are so thin,</span><br />
+They dine on meagre <i>potage</i>, and<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Put many an onion in!</span><br />
+Her snow-white caps she irons:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He blacks his shoes, he can;</span><br />
+Yet she's a little lady<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he's a gentleman.</span><br />
+<br />
+O busy, happy children!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That light French heart of yours,</span><br />
+Would it might sometimes enter at<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our solemn English doors!</span><br />
+Would that we worked as gaily,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And played, yes, played as well,</span><br />
+And lived our lives as simply<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As Monsieur et Mademoiselle.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/i031.png" width="150" height="85" alt="decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />YOUNG DANDELION</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Young</span> Dandelion<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On a hedge-side,</span><br />
+Said young Dandelion,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Who'll be my bride?</span><br />
+<br />
+"I'm a bold fellow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As ever was seen,</span><br />
+With my shield of yellow,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the grass green.</span><br />
+<br />
+"You may uproot me,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From field and from lane,</span><br />
+Trample me, cut me,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I spring up again.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I never flinch, Sir,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherever I dwell;</span><br />
+Give me an inch, Sir.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll soon take an ell.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Drive me from garden<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In anger and pride,</span><br />
+I'll thrive and harden<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By the road-side.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Not a bit fearful,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Showing my face,</span><br />
+Always so cheerful<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In every place."</span><br />
+<br />
+Said young Dandelion,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a sweet air,</span><br />
+"I have my eye on<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Miss Daisy fair.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Though we may tarry<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till past the cold,</span><br />
+Her I will marry<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ere I grow old.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I will protect her<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From all kinds of harm,</span><br />
+Feed her with nectar,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shelter her warm.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Whate'er the weather,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let it go by;</span><br />
+We'll hold together,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Daisy and I.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I'll ne'er give in,&mdash;no!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nothing I fear:</span><br />
+All that I win, O!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll keep for my dear."</span><br />
+<br />
+Said young Dandelion<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On his hedge-side,</span><br />
+"Who'll me rely on?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who'll be my bride?"</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />A SEPTEMBER ROBIN</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">My</span> eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Amid these days so bright</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Of ceaseless warmth and light;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Summer that will not die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Autumn, without one sigh</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">O'er sweet hours passing by&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Cometh that tender note</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Out of thy tiny throat,</span><br />
+Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,<br />
+O little plaintive bird!<br />
+<br />
+No need of word<br />
+Well know I all your tale&mdash;forgotten bird!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Soon you and I together</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Must face the winter weather,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Remembering how we sung</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Our primrose fields among,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In days when life was young;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Now, all is growing old,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And the warm earth's a-cold,</span><br />
+Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,<br />
+Sing only. Not one word.<br />
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p>
+<p>Text uses both tablecloth and table-cloth.</p>
+<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30494 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #30494 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30494)
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Adventures of a Brownie, by Miss Mulock.
+    </title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Adventures of A Brownie
+       As Told to My Child by Miss Mulock
+
+Author: Miss Mulock
+
+Release Date: November 17, 2009 [EBook #30494]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 452px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" />
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="435" height="600" alt="Frontispiece" title="" />
+</div><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;">
+<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="Title" title="" />
+</div><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1><span class="smcap">The Adventures of</span><br />
+
+<span class="smcap">A Brownie</span></h1>
+
+<h2>AS TOLD TO MY CHILD</h2>
+
+<h2>BY MISS MULOCK</h2>
+
+
+
+<h3>&middot;ILLUSTRATED&middot;</h3>
+
+<div class='center'>
+NEW YORK<br />
+McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS<br /></div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class='copyright'>COPYRIGHTED&mdash;1908&mdash;BY McLOUGHLIN BROS.</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i004.png" width="500" height="156" alt="CONTENTS" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Adventure the First</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Cook</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Second</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Cherry-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Third</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie in the Farmyard</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Fourth</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie's Ride</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Fifth</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie on the Ice</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Adventure the Sixth and Last</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brownie and the Clothes</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span class="smcap">Poems</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Blackbird and the Rooks</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Shaking of the Pear-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Wonderful Apple-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Jealous Boy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Story of the Birkenhead</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Birds in the Snow</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Little Comforter</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Don't Be Afraid</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Girl and Boy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Agnes at Prayer</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Going to Work</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three Companions</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Motherless Child</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Wren's Nest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Child's Smile</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the Hills and Far Away</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Two Raindrops</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The Year's End</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Running After the Rainbow</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dick and I</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Grandpapa</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Monsieur et Mademoiselle</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Young Dandelion</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A September Robin</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 232px;">
+<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="232" height="400" alt="Going home" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='center'><table class="one" summary="one">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>THE ADVENTURES OF A<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE<br /><br />
+ADVENTURE THE FIRST</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE COOK</div><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+<div class='cap'>THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived&mdash;where do you
+think he lived? in a coal-cellar.</div>
+
+<p>Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live
+in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature&mdash;a fairy, and yet not
+one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and
+dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to
+wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober,
+stay-at-home, household elf&mdash;nothing much to look at, even if you
+did see him, which you are not likely to do&mdash;only a little old man,
+about a foot high, all dressed in brown, with a brown face and hands,
+and a brown peaked cap, just the color of a brown mouse. And,
+like a mouse, he hides in corners&mdash;especially kitchen corners, and
+only comes out after dark when nobody is about, and so sometimes
+people call him Mr. Nobody.</p>
+
+<p>I said you were not likely to see him. I never did, certainly, and
+never knew any body that did; but still, if you were to go into Devonshire,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+you would hear many funny stories about Brownies in general,
+and so I may as well tell you the adventures of this particular Brownie,
+who belonged to a family there; which family he had followed from
+house to house, most faithfully, for years and years.</p>
+
+<p>A good many people had heard him&mdash;or supposed they had&mdash;when
+there were extraordinary noises about the house; noises which
+must have come from a mouse or a rat&mdash;or a Brownie. But nobody
+had ever seen him except the children&mdash;the three little boys and
+three little girls&mdash;who declared he often came to play with them when
+they were alone, and was the nicest companion in the world, though
+he was such an old man&mdash;hundreds of years old! He was full of fun
+and mischief, and up to all sorts of tricks, but he never did any body
+any harm unless they deserved it.</p>
+
+<p>Brownie was supposed to live under one particular coal, in the
+darkest corner of the cellar, which was never allowed to be disturbed.
+Why he had chosen it nobody knew, and how he lived there, nobody
+knew either, nor what he lived upon. Except that, ever since the
+family could remember, there had always been a bowl of milk put
+behind the coal-cellar door for the Brownie's supper. Perhaps he
+drank it&mdash;perhaps he didn't: anyhow, the bowl was always found
+empty next morning. The old Cook, who had lived all her life in
+the family, had never forgotten to give Brownie his supper; but at
+last she died, and a young cook came in her stead, who was very
+apt to forget every thing. She was also both careless and lazy, and
+disliked taking the trouble to put a bowl of milk in the same place
+every night for Mr. Nobody. "She didn't believe in Brownies,"
+she said; "she had never seen one, and seeing's believing." So she
+laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave, and put the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying much
+about it.</p>
+
+<p>But once, when Brownie woke up, at his usual hour for rising&mdash;ten
+o'clock at night, and looked round in search of his supper&mdash;which
+was, in fact, his breakfast&mdash;he found nothing there. At first
+he could not imagine such neglect, and went smelling and smelling
+about for his bowl of milk&mdash;it was not always placed in the same
+corner now&mdash;but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"This will never do," said he; and being extremely hungry, began
+running about the coal-cellar to see what he could find. His eyes
+were as useful in the dark as in the light&mdash;like a pussy-cat's; but
+there was nothing to be seen&mdash;not even a potato paring, or a dry
+crust, or a well-gnawed bone, such as Tiny the terrier sometimes
+brought into the coal-cellar and left on the floor&mdash;nothing, in short,
+but heaps of coals and coal-dust; and even a Brownie cannot eat
+that, you know.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't stand this; quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening
+his belt to make his poor little inside feel less empty. He had been
+asleep so long&mdash;about a week, I believe, as was his habit when there
+was nothing to do&mdash;that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his
+boots, or any thing. 'What's to be done? Since nobody brings
+my supper, I must go and fetch it.'</p>
+
+<p>He spoke quickly, for he always thought quickly, and made up
+his mind in a minute. To be sure it was a very little mind,
+like his little body; but he did the best he could with it, and
+was not a bad sort of old fellow, after all. In the house he had
+never done any harm, and often some good, for he frightened away
+all the rats, mice, and black-beetles. Not the crickets&mdash;he liked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+them, as the old Cook had done: she said they were such cheerful
+creatures, and always brought luck to the house. But the young
+Cook could not bear them, and used to pour boiling water down their
+holes, and set basins of beer for them with little wooden bridges up
+to the brim, that they might walk up, tumble in, and be drowned.</p>
+
+<p>So there was not even a cricket singing in the silent house when
+Brownie put his head out of his coal-cellar door, which, to his surprise,
+he found open. Old Cook used to lock it every night, but the
+young Cook had left that key, and the kitchen and pantry keys too,
+all dangling in the lock, so that any thief might have got in, and
+wandered all over the house without being found out.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the
+air, and bounding right through the scullery into the kitchen. It
+was quite empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out&mdash;just
+for its own amusement, and the remains of a capital supper spread
+on the table&mdash;enough for half a dozen people being left still.</p>
+
+<p>Would you like to know what there was? Devonshire cream, of
+course; and part of a large dish of junket, which is something like
+curds and whey. Lots of bread-and-butter and cheese, and half
+an apple-pudding. Also a great jug of cider and another of milk, and
+several half-full glasses, and no end of dirty plates, knives, and forks.
+All were scattered about the table in the most untidy fashion, just
+as the servants had risen from their supper, without thinking to put
+any thing away.</p>
+
+<p>Brownie screwed up his little old face and turned up his button
+of a nose, and gave a long whistle. You might not believe it, seeing
+he lived in a coal-cellar; but really he liked <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'tidiness,and'">tidiness, and</ins> always played
+his pranks upon disorderly or slovenly folk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 347px;">
+<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="347" height="500" alt="He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!&mdash;Page 11" title="" />
+<span class="caption">He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!&mdash;Page 11</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Whew!" said he; "here's a chance. What a supper I'll get
+now!"</p>
+
+<p>And he jumped on to a chair and thence to the table, but so quietly
+that the large black cat with four white paws, called Muff, because
+she was so fat and soft and her fur so long, who sat dozing in front
+of the fire, just opened one eye and went to sleep again. She had
+tried to get her nose into the milk-jug, but it was too small; and the
+junket-dish was too deep for her to reach, except with one paw. She
+didn't care much for bread and cheese and apple-pudding, and was
+very well fed besides; so, after just wandering round the table, she
+had jumped down from it again, and settled herself to sleep on the
+hearth.</p>
+
+<p>But Brownie had no notion of going to sleep. He wanted his
+supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat! first one thing and then
+another, and then trying every thing all over again. And oh! what
+a lot he drank&mdash;first milk and then cider, and then mixed the two
+together in a way that would have disagreed with any body except
+a Brownie. As it was, he was obliged to slacken his belt several
+times, and at last took it off altogether. But he must have had a most
+extraordinary capacity for eating and drinking&mdash;since, after he had
+nearly cleared the table, he was just as lively as if he had had no
+supper at all.</p>
+
+<p>Now his jumping was a little awkward, for there happened to be
+a clean white tablecloth: as this was only Monday, it had had no
+time to get dirty&mdash;untidy as the Cook was. And you know Brownie
+lived in a coal-cellar, and his feet were black with running about in
+coal dust. So wherever he trod, he left the impression behind, until
+at last the whole tablecloth was covered with black marks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Not that he minded this; in fact, he took great pains to make the
+cloth as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, "Ho, ho, ho!"
+leaped on to the hearth, and began teasing the cat; squeaking like a
+mouse, or chirping like a cricket, or buzzing like a fly; and altogether
+disturbing poor Pussy's mind so much, that she went and hid herself
+in the farthest corner, and left him the hearth all to himself, where
+he lay at ease till daybreak.</p>
+
+<p>Then, hearing a slight noise overhead, which might be the servants
+getting up, he jumped on to the table <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'agan'">again</ins>&mdash;gobbled up the
+few remaining crumbs for his breakfast, and scampered off to his
+coal-cellar; where he hid himself under his big coal, and fell asleep
+for the day.</p>
+
+<p>Well, the Cook came downstairs rather earlier than usual, for she
+remembered she had to clear off the remains of supper; but lo and
+behold, there was nothing left to clear. Every bit of food was eaten
+up&mdash;the cheese looked as if a dozen mice had been nibbling at it,
+and nibbled it down to the very rind; the milk and cider were all
+drunk&mdash;and mice don't care for milk and cider, you know. As for
+the apple-pudding, it had vanished altogether; and the dish was
+licked as clean as if Boxer, the yard-dog, had been at it in his hungriest
+mood.</p>
+
+<p>"And my white table-cloth&mdash;oh, my clean white table-cloth!
+What can have been done to it?" cried she, in amazement. For it
+was all over little black footmarks, just the size of a baby's foot&mdash;only
+babies don't wear shoes with nails in them, and don't run about
+and climb on kitchen tables after all the family have gone to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Cook was a little frightened; but her fright changed to anger when
+she saw the large black cat stretched comfortably on the hearth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+Poor Muff had crept there for a little snooze after Brownie went
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"You nasty cat! I see it all now; it's you that have eaten up all
+the supper; it's you that have been on my clean table-cloth with
+your dirty paws."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 182px;">
+<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="182" height="350" alt="Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>They were white paws, and as
+clean as possible; but the Cook
+never thought of that, any more
+than she did of the fact that cats
+don't usually drink cider or eat
+apple-pudding.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll teach you to come stealing
+food in this way; take that&mdash;and
+that&mdash;and that!"</p>
+
+<p>Cook got hold of a broom and
+beat poor Pussy till the creature
+ran mewing away. She couldn't
+speak, you know&mdash;unfortunate
+cat! and tell people that it was
+Brownie who had done it all.</p>
+
+<p>Next night Cook thought she
+would make all safe and sure; so,
+instead of letting the cat sleep by
+the fire, she shut her up in the chilly coal-cellar, locked the door,
+put the key in her pocket, and went off to bed&mdash;leaving the
+supper as before.</p>
+
+<p>When Brownie woke up and looked out of his hole, there was, as
+usual, no supper for him, and the cellar was close shut. He peered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+about, to try and find some cranny under the door to creep out at,
+but there was none. And he felt so hungry that he could almost
+have eaten the cat, who kept walking to and fro in a melancholy
+manner&mdash;only she was alive, and he couldn't well eat her alive:
+besides, he knew she was old, and had an idea she might be tough;
+so he merely said, politely, "How do you do, Mrs. Pussy?" to which
+she answered nothing&mdash;of course.</p>
+
+<p>Something must be done, and luckily Brownies can do things
+which nobody else can do. So he thought he would change himself
+into a mouse, and gnaw a hole through the door. But then he suddenly
+remembered the cat, who, though he had decided not to eat
+her, might take this opportunity of eating him. So he thought it
+advisable to wait till she was fast asleep, which did not happen for
+a good while. At length, quite tired with walking about, Pussy
+turned round on her tail six times, curled down in a corner, and fell
+fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately Brownie changed himself into the smallest mouse
+possible; and, taking care not to make the least noise, gnawed a
+hole in the door, and squeezed himself through, immediately turning
+into his proper shape again, for fear of accidents.</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen fire was at its last glimmer; but it showed a better
+supper than even last night, for the Cook had had friends with her&mdash;a
+brother and two cousins&mdash;and they had been exceedingly merry.
+The food they had left behind was enough for three Brownies at
+least, but this one managed to eat it all up. Only once, in trying to
+cut a great slice of beef, he let the carving-knife and fork fall with
+such a clatter, that Tiny the terrier, who was tied up at the foot of
+the stairs, began to bark furiously. However, he brought her her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+puppy, which had been left in a basket in a corner of the kitchen, and
+so succeeded in quieting her.</p>
+
+<p>After that he enjoyed himself amazingly, and made more marks
+than ever on the white table-cloth; for he began jumping about like
+a pea on a trencher, in order to make his particularly large supper
+agree with him.</p>
+
+<p>Then, in the absence of the cat, he teased the puppy for an hour or
+two, till hearing the clock strike five, he thought it as well to turn into
+a mouse again, and creep back cautiously into his cellar. He was
+only just in time, for Muff opened one eye, and was just going to
+pounce upon him, when he changed himself back into a Brownie.
+She was so startled that she bounded away, her tail growing into
+twice its natural size, and her eyes gleaming like round green globes.
+But Brownie only said, "Ha, ha, ho!" and walked deliberately into
+his hole.</p>
+
+<p>When Cook came downstairs and saw that the same thing had
+happened again&mdash;that the supper was all eaten, and the table-cloth
+blacker than ever with the extraordinary footmarks, she was greatly
+puzzled. Who could have done it all? Not the cat, who came mewing
+out of the coal-cellar the minute she unlocked the door. Possibly
+a rat&mdash;but then would a rat have come within reach of Tiny?</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been Tiny herself, or her puppy," which just came
+rolling out of its basket over Cook's feet. "You little wretch! You
+and your mother are the greatest nuisance imaginable. I'll punish
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>And, quite forgetting that Tiny had been safely tied up all night,
+and that her poor little puppy was so fat and helpless it could scarcely
+stand on its legs, to say nothing of jumping on chairs and tables,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+she gave them both such a thrashing that they ran howling together
+out of the kitchen door, where the kind little kitchen-maid took
+them up in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to have beaten the Brownie, if you could catch him,"
+said she, in a whisper. "He will do it again and again, you'll see,
+for he can't bear an untidy kitchen. You'd better do as poor old
+Cook did, and clear the supper things away, and put the odds and
+ends safe in the larder; also," she added, mysteriously, "if I were
+you, I'd put a bowl of milk behind the coal-cellar door."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" answered the young Cook, and flounced away.
+But afterward she thought better of it, and did as she was advised,
+grumbling all the time, but doing it.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the milk was gone! Perhaps Brownie had drunk
+it up, anyhow nobody could say that he hadn't. As for the supper,
+Cook having safely laid it on the shelves of the larder, nobody touched
+it. And the table-cloth, which was wrapped up tidily and put in the
+dresser drawer, came out as clean as ever, with not a single black
+footmark upon it. No mischief being done, the cat and the dog
+both escaped beating, and Brownie played no more tricks with
+any body&mdash;till the next time.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/i009.png" width="250" height="154" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'><table class="two" summary="two">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE SECOND</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE CHERRY-TREE</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>THE "next time" was quick in
+coming, which was not wonderful,
+considering there was a Brownie in the house. Otherwise the
+house was like most other houses, and the family like most other
+families. The children also: they were sometimes good, sometimes
+naughty, like other children; but, on the whole, they deserved to
+have the pleasure of a Brownie to play with them, as they declared
+he did&mdash;many and many a time.</div>
+
+<p>A favorite play-place was the orchard, where grew the biggest
+cherry-tree you ever saw. They called it their "castle," because
+it rose up ten feet from the ground in one thick stem, and then branched
+out into a circle of boughs, with a flat place in the middle, where two
+or three children could sit at once. There they often did sit, turn
+by turn, or one at a time&mdash;sometimes with a book, reading; and the
+biggest boy made a sort of rope-ladder by which they could climb up
+and down&mdash;which they did all winter, and enjoyed their "castle"
+very much.</p>
+
+<p>But one day in spring they found their ladder cut away! The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+Gardener had done it, saying it injured the tree, which was just
+coming into blossom. Now this Gardener was a rather gruff man,
+with a growling voice. He did not mean to be unkind, but he disliked
+children; he said they bothered him. But when they complained
+to their mother about the ladder, she agreed with Gardener
+that the tree must not be injured, as it bore the biggest cherries in
+all the neighborhood&mdash;so big that the old saying of "taking two
+bites at a cherry," came really true.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till the cherries are ripe," said she; and so the little people
+waited, and watched it through its leafing and blossoming&mdash;such
+sheets of blossom, white as snow!&mdash;till the fruit began to show, and
+grew large and red on every bough.</p>
+
+<p>At last one morning the mother said, "Children, should you like
+to help gather the cherries to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!" they cried, "and not a day too soon; for we saw a
+flock of starlings in the next field&mdash;and if we don't clear the tree,
+they will."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; clear it, then. Only mind and fill my basket quite
+full, for preserving. What is over you may eat, if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, thank you!" and the children were eager to be off;
+but the mother stopped them till she could get the Gardener and
+his ladder.</p>
+
+<p>"For it is he must climb the tree, not you; and you must do exactly
+as he tells you; and he will stop with you all the time and see that
+you don't come to harm."</p>
+
+<p>This was no slight cloud on the children's happiness, and they
+begged hard to go alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, might we? We will be so good!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i011.jpg" width="500" height="259" alt="When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the cherry-tree" title="" />
+<span class="caption">When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the cherry-tree</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The mother shook her head. All the goodness in the world would
+not help them if they tumbled off the tree, or ate themselves sick with
+cherries. "You would not be safe, and I should be so unhappy!"</p>
+
+<p>To make mother "unhappy" was the worst rebuke possible to
+these children; so they choked down their disappointment, and
+followed the Gardener as he walked on ahead, carrying his ladder
+on his shoulder. He looked very cross, and as if he did not like the
+children's company at all.</p>
+
+<p>They were pretty good, on the whole, though they chattered
+a good deal; but Gardener said not a word to them all the way to
+the orchard. When they reached it, he just told them to "keep out
+of his way and not worrit him," which they politely promised, saying
+among themselves that they should not enjoy their cherry-gathering
+at all. But children who make the best of things, and
+try to be as good as they can, sometimes have fun unawares.</p>
+
+<p>When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk
+of the cherry-tree, there was suddenly heard the barking of a dog,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+and a very fierce dog, too. First it seemed close beside them, then
+in the flower-garden, then in the fowl-yard.</p>
+
+<p>Gardener dropped the ladder out of his hands. "It's that Boxer!
+He has got loose again! He will be running after my chickens,
+and dragging his broken chain all over my borders. And he is so
+fierce, and so delighted to get free. He'll bite any body who ties
+him up, except me."</p>
+
+<p>"Hadn't you better you go and see after him?"</p>
+
+<p>Gardener thought it was the eldest boy who spoke, and turned
+round angrily; but the little fellow had never opened his lips.</p>
+
+<p>Here there was heard a still louder bark, and from a quite different
+part of the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"There he is&mdash;I'm sure of it! jumping over my bedding-out
+plants, and breaking my cucumber frames. Abominable beast!&mdash;just
+let me catch him!" Off Gardener darted in a violent passion,
+throwing the ladder down upon the grass, and forgetting all about
+the cherries and the children.</p>
+
+<p>The instant he was gone, a shrill laugh, loud and merry, was heard
+close by, and a little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.</p>
+
+<p>"How d'ye do?&mdash;Boxer was me. Didn't I bark well? Now
+I'm come to play with you."</p>
+
+<p>The children clapped their hands; for they knew they were going
+to have some fun if Brownie was there&mdash;he was the best little playfellow
+in the world. And then they had him all to themselves.
+Nobody ever saw him except the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's,
+half like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 414px;">
+<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="A little brown old man&#39;s face peeped from behind the cherry-tree.&mdash;Page 20" title="" />
+<span class="caption">A little brown old man&#39;s face peeped from behind the cherry-tree.&mdash;Page 20</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the
+branches sprang, and besides, their mother had said they were not
+to climb. And the ladder lay flat upon the grass&mdash;far too heavy
+for little hands to move.</p>
+
+<p>"What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to
+lift the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you."</p>
+
+<p>Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the
+ladder than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite
+safely against the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"But we must not climb&mdash;mother told us not," said the boys,
+ruefully. "Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick
+up the cherries."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself."</p>
+
+<p>Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie darted up the
+ladder like a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.</p>
+
+<p>The children looked dismayed for a minute, till they saw a merry
+brown face peeping out from the green leaves at the very top of
+the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"Biggest fruit always grows highest," cried the Brownie. "Stand
+in a row, all you children. Little boys, hold out your caps: little
+girls, make a bag of your pinafores. Open your mouths and shut
+your eyes, and see what the queen will send you."</p>
+
+<p>They laughed and did as they were told; whereupon they were
+drowned in a shower of cherries&mdash;cherries falling like hailstones,
+hitting them on their heads, their cheeks, their noses&mdash;filling their
+caps and pinafores, and then rolling and tumbling on to the grass,
+till it was strewn thick as leaves in autumn with the rosy fruit.</p>
+
+<p>What a glorious scramble they had&mdash;these three little boys and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+three little girls! How they laughed and jumped and knocked
+their heads together in picking up the cherries, yet never quarreled&mdash;for
+there were such heaps, it would have been ridiculous to squabble
+over them; and besides, whenever they began to quarrel, Brownie
+always ran away. Now he was the merriest of the lot; ran up and
+down the tree like a cat, helped to pick up the cherries, and was
+first-rate at filling the large market-basket.</p>
+
+<p>"We were to eat as many as we liked, only we must first fill the
+basket," conscientiously said the eldest girl; upon which they all set
+to at once, and filled it to the brim.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll have a dinner-party," cried the Brownie; and squatted
+down like a Turk, crossed his queer little legs, and sticking his
+elbows upon his knees, in a way that nobody but a Brownie could manage.
+"Sit in a ring! sit in a ring! and we'll see who can eat fastest."</p>
+
+<p>The children obeyed. How many cherries they devoured, and
+how fast they did it, passes my capacity of telling. I only hope they
+were not ill next day, and that all the cherry-stones they swallowed
+by mistake did not disagree with them. But perhaps nothing does
+disagree with one when one dines with a Brownie. They ate so
+much, laughing in equal proportion, that they had quite forgotten
+the Gardener&mdash;when, all of a sudden, they heard him clicking angrily
+the orchard gate, and talking to himself as he walked through.</p>
+
+<p>"That nasty dog! It wasn't Boxer, after all. A nice joke! to
+find him quietly asleep in his kennel after having hunted him, as I
+thought, from one end of the garden to the other! Now for the
+cherries and the children&mdash;bless us, where are the children? And
+the cherries? Why, the tree is as bare as a blackthorn in February!
+The starlings have been at it, after all. Oh dear! oh dear!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear! oh dear!" echoed a voice from behind the tree, followed
+by shouts of mocking laughter. Not from the children&mdash;they sat
+as demure as possible, all in a ring, with their hands before them,
+and in the centre the huge basket of cherries, piled as full as it could
+possibly hold. But the Brownie had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"You naughty brats, I'll have you punished!" cried the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Gradener'">Gardener</ins>,
+furious at the laughter, for he never laughed himself. But as there
+was nothing wrong; the cherries being gathered&mdash;a very large crop&mdash;and
+the ladder found safe in its place&mdash;it was difficult to say what
+had been the harm done and who had done it.</p>
+
+<p>So he went growling back to the house, carrying the cherries to
+the mistress, who coaxed him into good temper again, as she sometimes
+did; bidding also the children to behave well to him, since
+he was an old man, and not really bad&mdash;only cross. As for the
+little folks, she had not the slightest intention of punishing them;
+and, as for Brownie, it was impossible to catch him. So nobody
+was punished at all.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/i013.png" width="300" height="128" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'><table class="three" summary="three">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE THIRD</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE IN THE FARMYARD</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+<div class='cap'>WHICH was a place where he
+did not often go, for he
+preferred being warm and snug in the house. But when he felt
+himself ill-used, he would wander anywhere, in order to play tricks
+upon those whom he thought had done him harm; for, being only a
+Brownie, and not a man, he did not understand that the best way
+to revenge yourself upon your enemies is either to let them alone or
+to pay them back good for evil&mdash;it disappoints them so much, and
+makes them so exceedingly ashamed of themselves.</div>
+
+<p>One day Brownie overheard the Gardener advising the Cook to
+put sour milk into his bowl at night, instead of sweet.</p>
+
+<p>"He'd never find out the difference, no more than the pigs do.
+Indeed, it's my belief that a pig, or dog, or something, empties the bowl,
+and not a Brownie, at all. It's just clean waste&mdash;that's what I say."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you'd better hold your tongue, and mind your own business,"
+returned the Cook, who was of a sharp temper, and would
+not stand being meddled with. She began to abuse the Gardener
+soundly; but his wife, who was standing by, took his part, as she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+always did when any third party scolded him. So they all squabbled
+together, till Brownie, hid under his coal, put his little hands over
+his little ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me, what a noise these mortals do make when they quarrel!
+They quite deafen me. I must teach them better manners."</p>
+
+<p>But when the Cook slammed the door to, and left Gardener and
+his wife alone, they too began to dispute between themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"You make such a fuss over your nasty pigs, and get all the scraps
+for them," said the wife. "It's of much more importance that I
+should have everything Cook can spare for my chickens. Never
+were such fine chickens as my last brood!"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought they were ducklings."</p>
+
+<p>"How you catch me up, you rude old man! They are ducklings,
+and beauties, too&mdash;even though they have never seen water. Where's
+the pond you promised to make for me, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rubbish, woman! If my cows do without a pond, your ducklings
+may. And why will you be so silly as to rear ducklings at all?
+Fine fat chickens are a deal better. You'll find out your mistake
+some day."</p>
+
+<p>"And so will you when that old Alderney runs dry. You'll wish
+you had taken my advice, and fattened and sold her."</p>
+
+<p>"Alderney cows won't sell for fattening, and women's advice is
+never worth twopence. Yours isn't worth even a half-penny. What
+are you laughing at?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't laughing," said the wife, angrily; and, in truth, it was
+not she, but little Brownie, running under the barrow which the
+Gardener was wheeling along, and very much amused that people
+should be so silly as to squabble about nothing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was still early morning; for, whatever this old couple's faults
+might be, laziness was not one of them. The wife rose with the
+dawn to feed her poultry and collect her eggs; the husband also got
+through as much work by breakfast-time as many an idle man
+does by noon. But Brownie had been beforehand with them this
+day.</p>
+
+<p>When all the fowls came running to be fed, the big Brahma hen
+who had watched the ducklings was seen wandering forlornly about,
+and clucking mournfully for her young brood&mdash;she could not find
+them anywhere. Had she been able to speak, she might have told
+how a large white Aylesbury duck had waddled into the farmyard,
+and waddled out again, coaxing them after her, no doubt in search
+of a pond. But missing they were, most certainly.</p>
+
+<p>"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" mourned the miserable hen-mother&mdash;and,
+"Oh, my ducklings, my ducklings!" cried the Gardener's wife&mdash;"Who
+can have carried off my beautiful ducklings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rats, maybe," said the Gardener, cruelly, as he walked away.
+And as he went he heard the squeak of a rat below his wheelbarrow.
+But he could not catch it, any more than his wife could catch the
+Aylesbury duck. Of course not. Both were&mdash;the Brownie!</p>
+
+<p>Just at this moment the six little people came running into the
+farmyard. When they had been particularly good, they were sometimes
+allowed to go with Gardener a-milking, each carrying his or
+her own mug for a drink of milk, warm from the cow. They scampered
+after him&mdash;a noisy tribe, begging to be taken down to the field,
+and holding out their six mugs entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"What! six cupfuls of milk, when I haven't a drop to spare, and
+Cook is always wanting more? Ridiculous nonsense! Get along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+with you; you may come to the field&mdash;I can't hinder that&mdash;but you'll
+get no milk to-day. Take your mugs back again to the kitchen."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i015.jpg" width="500" height="255" alt="A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The poor little folks made the best of a bad business, and obeyed;
+then followed Gardener down to the field, rather dolefully. But
+it was such a beautiful morning that they soon recovered their spirits.
+The grass <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'shown'">shone</ins> with dew, like a sheet of diamonds, the clover
+smelled so sweet, and two skylarks were singing at one another
+high up in the sky. Several rabbits darted past, to their great
+amusement, especially one very large rabbit&mdash;brown, not gray&mdash;which
+dodged them in and out, and once nearly threw Gardener
+down, pail and all, by running across his feet; which set them all
+laughing, till they came where Dolly, the cow, lay chewing the cud
+under a large oak-tree.</p>
+
+<p>It was great fun to stir her up, as usual, and lie down, one after
+the other, in the place where she had lain all night long, making
+the grass flat, and warm, and perfumy with her sweet breath. She
+let them do it, and then stood meekly by; for Dolly was the gentlest
+cow in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But this morning something strange seemed to possess her. She
+altogether refused to be milked&mdash;kicked, plunged, tossed over the
+pail, which was luckily empty.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless the cow! what's wrong with her? It's surely you children's
+fault. Stand off, the whole lot of you. Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!"</p>
+
+<p>But Dolly was any thing but good. She stood switching her tail,
+and looking as savage as so mild an animal possibly could look.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all your doing, you naughty children! You have been
+playing her some trick, I know," cried the Gardener, in great wrath.</p>
+
+<p>They assured him they had done nothing, and indeed, they looked
+as quiet as mice and as innocent as lambs. At length the biggest
+boy pointed out a large wasp which had settled in Dolly's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"That accounts for everything," said the Gardener.</p>
+
+<p>But it did not mend everything; for when he tried to drive it away
+it kept coming back and back again, and buzzing round his own
+head and the cow's with a voice that the children thought was less
+like a buzz of a wasp than the sound of a person laughing. At
+length it frightened Dolly to such an extent that, with one wild
+bound she darted right away, and galloped off to the farther end of
+the field.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get a rope and tie her legs together," cried the Gardener,
+fiercely. "She shall repent giving me all this trouble&mdash;that she
+shall!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed somebody. The Gardener thought it
+was the children, and gave one of them an angry cuff as he walked
+away. But they knew it was somebody else, and were not at all
+surprised when, the minute his back was turned, Dolly came walking
+quietly back, led by a little wee brown man who scarcely reached up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+to her knees. Yet she let him guide her, which he did as gently
+as possible, though the string he held her by was no thicker than a
+spider web, floating from one of her horns.</p>
+
+<p>"Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!" cried Brownie, mimicking the Gardener's
+voice. "Now we'll see what we can do. I want my breakfast
+badly&mdash;don't you, little folks?"</p>
+
+<p>Of course they did, for the morning air made them very hungry.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well&mdash;wait a bit, though. Old people should be served
+first, you know. Besides, I want to go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to bed in the daylight!" The children all laughed, and then
+looked quite shy and sorry, lest they might have seemed rude to
+the little Brownie. But he&mdash;he liked fun; and never took offence
+when none was meant.</p>
+
+<p>He placed himself on the milking-stool, which was so high that
+his little legs were dangling half-way down, and milked and milked&mdash;Dolly
+standing as still as possible&mdash;till he had filled the whole pail.
+Most astonishing cow! she gave as much as two cows; and such
+delicious milk as it was&mdash;all frothing and yellow&mdash;richer than even
+Dolly's milk had ever been before. The children's mouths watered
+for it, but not a word said they&mdash;even when, instead of giving it to
+them, Brownie put his own mouth to the pail, and drank and drank,
+till it seemed as if he were never going to stop. But it was decidedly
+a relief to them when he popped his head up again, and lo! the pail
+was as full as ever!</p>
+
+<p>"Now, little ones, now's your turn. Where are your mugs?"</p>
+
+<p>All answered mournfully, "We've got none. Gardener made us
+take them back again."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind&mdash;all right. Gather me half a dozen of the biggest
+buttercups you can find."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What nonsense!" thought the children; but they did it. Brownie
+laid the flowers in a row upon the eldest girl's lap&mdash;blew upon them
+one by one, and each turned into the most beautiful golden cup that
+ever was seen!</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, every one take his own mug, and I'll fill it."</p>
+
+<p>He milked away&mdash;each child got a drink, and then the cups were
+filled again. And all the while Dolly stood as quiet as possible&mdash;looking
+benignly round, as if she would be happy to supply milk to
+the whole parish, if the Brownie desired it.</p>
+
+<p>"Soh, Dolly! Thank you, Dolly!" said he, again, mimicking the
+Gardener's voice, half growling, half coaxing. And while he spoke,
+the real voice was heard behind the hedge. There was a sound
+as of a great wasp flying away, which made Dolly prick up her ears,
+and look as <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">if</ins> the old savageness was coming back upon her. The
+children snatched up their mugs, but there was no need, they had all
+turned into buttercups again.</p>
+
+<p>Gardener jumped over the stile, as cross as two sticks, with an old
+rope in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a bother I've had! Breakfast ready, and no milk yet&mdash;and
+such a row as they are making over those lost ducklings.
+Stand back, you children, and don't hinder me a minute. No use
+begging&mdash;not a drop of milk shall you get. Hillo, Dolly? Quiet
+old girl!"</p>
+
+<p>Quiet enough she was this time&mdash;but you might as well have milked
+a plaster cow in a London milking-shop. Not one ringing drop
+resounded against the empty pail; for, when they peeped in, the
+children saw, to their amazement, that it was empty.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 420px;">
+<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled again.&mdash;Page 32" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled again.&mdash;Page 32</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The creature's bewitched!" cried the Gardener, in a great fury.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+"Or else somebody has milked her dry already. Have you done it?
+or you?" he asked each of the children.</p>
+
+<p>They might have said No&mdash;which was the literal truth&mdash;but then
+it would not have been the whole truth, for they knew quite well that
+Dolly had been milked, and also who had done it. And their mother
+had always taught them that to make a person believe a lie is nearly
+as bad as telling him one. Yet still they did not like to betray the
+kind little Brownie. Greatly puzzled, they hung their heads and
+said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Look in your pail again," cried a voice from the other side of
+Dolly. And there at the bottom was just the usual quantity of milk&mdash;no
+more and no less.</p>
+
+<p>The Gardener was very much astonished. "It must be the
+Brownie!" muttered he, in a frightened tone; and, taking off his hat,
+"Thank you, sir," said he to Mr. Nobody&mdash;at which the children
+all burst out laughing. But they kept their own counsel, and he
+was afraid to ask them any more questions.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by his fright wore off a little. "I only hope the milk is
+good milk, and will poison nobody," said he, sulkily. "However,
+that's not my affair. You children had better tell your mother all
+about it. I left her in the farmyard in a pretty <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'sate'">state</ins> of mind about
+her ducklings."</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Brownie heard this, and was sorry, for he liked the children's
+mother, who had always been kind to him. Besides, he
+never did any body harm who did not deserve it; and though, being
+a Brownie, he could hardly be said to have a conscience, he had
+something which stood in the place of one&mdash;a liking to see people
+happy rather than miserable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So, instead of going to bed under his big coal for the day, when,
+after breakfast, the children and their mother came out to look at a
+new brood of chickens, he crept after them and hid behind the hencoop
+where the old mother-hen was put, with her young ones round
+her.</p>
+
+<p>There had been great difficulty in getting her in there, for she was
+a hen who hatched her brood on independent principles. Instead
+of sitting upon the nice nest that the Gardener made for her, she
+had twice gone into a little wood close by and made a nest for herself,
+which nobody could ever find; and where she hatched in secret,
+coming every second day to be fed, and then vanishing again, till at
+last she re-appeared in triumph, with her chickens running after her.
+The first brood there had been twelve, but of this there were fourteen&mdash;all
+from her own eggs, of course, and she was uncommonly proud
+of them. So was the Gardener, so was the mistress&mdash;who <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'like'">liked</ins> all
+young things. Such a picture as they were! fourteen soft, yellow,
+fluffy things, running about after their mother. It had been a most
+troublesome business to catch&mdash;first her, and then them, to put them
+under the coop. The old hen resisted, and pecked furiously at
+Gardener's legs, and the chickens ran about in frantic terror, chirping
+wildly in answer to her clucking.</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, the little family was safe in shelter, and the
+chickens counted over, to see that none had been lost in the scuffle.
+How funny they were! looking so innocent and yet so wise, as chickens
+do&mdash;peering out at the world from under their mother's wing, or
+hopping over her back, or snuggled all together under her breast,
+so that nothing was seen of them but a mass of yellow legs, like a
+great centiped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How happy the old hen is," said the children's mother, looking
+on, and then looking compassionately at that other forlorn old hen,
+who had hatched the ducklings, and kept wandering about the farmyard,
+clucking miserably, "Those poor ducklings, what can have
+become of them? If rats had killed them, we should have found
+feathers or something; and weasels would have sucked their brains
+and left them. They must have been stolen, or wandered away,
+and died of cold and hunger&mdash;my poor ducklings!"</p>
+
+<p>The mistress sighed, for she could not bear any living thing to
+suffer. And the children nearly cried at the thought of what might
+be happening to their pretty ducklings. That very minute a little
+wee brown face peered through a hole in the hencoop, making the
+old mother-hen fly furiously at it&mdash;as she did at the slightest shadow
+of an enemy to her little ones. However, no harm happened&mdash;only
+a guinea-fowl suddenly ran across the farmyard, screaming in its
+usual harsh voice. But it was not the usual sort of guinea-fowl,
+being larger and handsomer than any of theirs.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a beauty of a creature! how did it ever come into our
+farmyard," cried the delighted children; and started off after it, to
+catch it if possible.</p>
+
+<p>But they ran, and they ran&mdash;through the gate and out into the
+lane; and the guinea-fowl still ran on before them, until, turning
+round a corner, they lost sight of it, and immediately saw something
+else, equally curious. Sitting on the top of a big thistle&mdash;so big
+that he must have had to climb it just like a tree&mdash;was the Brownie.
+His legs were crossed, and his arms too, his little brown cap was stuck
+knowingly on one side, and he was laughing heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do? Here I am again. I thought I wouldn't go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+to bed after all. Shall I help you to find the ducklings? Very
+well! come along."</p>
+
+<p>They crossed the field, Brownie running beside them, and as fast
+as they could, though he looked such an old man; and sometimes
+turning over on legs and arms like a Catherine wheel&mdash;which they
+tried to imitate, but generally failed, and only bruised their fingers
+and noses.</p>
+
+<p>He lured them on and on till they came to the wood, and to a green
+path in it, which well as they knew the neighborhood, none of the
+children had ever seen before. It led to a most beautiful pond, as
+clear as crystal and as blue as the sky. Large trees grew round it,
+dipping their branches in the water, as if they were looking at themselves
+in a glass. And all about their roots were quantities of primroses&mdash;the
+biggest primroses the little girls had ever seen. Down
+they dropped on their fat knees, squashing more primroses than
+they gathered, though they tried to gather them all; and the smallest
+child even began to cry because her hands were so full that the
+flowers dropped through her fingers. But the boys, older and more
+practical, rather despised primroses.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought we had come to look for ducklings," said the eldest.
+"Mother is fretting dreadfully about her ducklings. Where can
+they be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shut your eyes, and you'll see," said the Brownie, at which they
+all laughed, but did it; and when they opened their eyes again, what
+should they behold but a whole fleet of ducklings sailing out from
+the roots of an old willow-tree, one after the other, looking as fat
+and content as possible, and swimming as naturally as if they had
+lived on a pond&mdash;and this particularly pond, all their days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Count them," said the Brownie, "the whole eight&mdash;quite correct.
+And then try and catch them&mdash;if you can."</p>
+
+<p>Easier said than done. The boys set to work with great satisfaction&mdash;boys
+do so enjoy hunting something. They coaxed them&mdash;they
+shouted at them&mdash;they threw little sticks at them; but as soon
+as they wanted them to go one way the fleet of ducklings immediately
+turned round and sailed another way, doing it so deliberately and
+majestically, that the children could not help laughing. As for little
+Brownie, he sat on a branch of the willow-tree, with his legs dangling
+down to the surface of the pond, kicking at the water-spiders, and
+grinning with all his might. At length, quite tired out, in spite of
+their fun, the children begged for his help, and he took compassion
+on them.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn round three times and see what you can find," shouted he.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately each little boy found in his arms, and each little girl
+in her pinafore, a fine fat duckling. And there being eight of them,
+the two elder children had each a couple. They were rather cold
+and damp, and slightly uncomfortable to cuddle, ducks not being
+used to cuddling. Poor things! they struggled hard to get away.
+But the children hugged them tight, and ran as fast as their legs could
+carry them through the wood, forgetting, in their joy, even to say
+"Thank you" to the little Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached their mother she was as glad as they, for she
+never thought to see her ducklings again; and to have them back
+alive and uninjured, and watch them running to the old hen, who
+received them with an ecstasy of delight, was so exciting, that nobody
+thought of asking a single question as to where they had been found.</p>
+
+<p>When the mother did ask, the children told her about Brownie's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+taking them to the beautiful pond&mdash;and what a wonderful pond it
+was; how green the trees were round it; and how large the primroses
+grew. They never tired of talking about it and seeking for it. But
+the odd thing was that, seek as they might, they never could find it
+again. Many a day did the little people roam about one by one, or
+all together, round the wood, often getting themselves sadly
+draggled with mud and torn with brambles&mdash;but the beautiful pond
+they never found again.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did the ducklings, I suppose; for they wandered no more from
+the farmyard, to the old mother-hen's great content. They grew
+up into fat and respectable ducks&mdash;five white ones and three gray
+ones&mdash;waddling about, very content, though they never saw water,
+except the tank which was placed for them to paddle in. They
+lived a lazy, peaceful, pleasant life for a long time, and were at last
+killed and eaten with green peas, one after the other, to the family's
+great satisfaction, if not to their own.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 155px;">
+<img src="images/i017.png" width="155" height="150" alt="tree" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="four" summary="four">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE FOURTH</div>
+
+<div class='title'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE'S RIDE</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>FOR the little Brownie, though not
+given to horsemanship, did once
+take a ride, and a very remarkable one it was. Shall I tell you all
+about it?</div>
+
+<p>The six little children got a present of something they had longed
+for all their lives&mdash;a pony. Not a rocking-horse, but a real live pony&mdash;a
+Shetland pony, too, which had traveled all the way from the
+Shetland Isles to Devonshire&mdash;where every body wondered at it,
+for such a creature had not been seen in the neighborhood for years
+and years. She was no bigger than a donkey, and her coat, instead
+of being smooth like a horse's, was shaggy like a young bear's. She
+had a long tail, which had never been cut, and such a deal of hair
+in her mane and over her eyes that it gave her quite a fierce countenance.
+In fact, among the mild and tame Devonshire beasts, the
+little Shetland pony looked almost like a wild animal. But in reality
+she was the gentlest creature in the world. Before she had been
+many days with them, she began to know the children quite well;
+followed them about, ate corn out of the bowl they held out to her;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+nay, one day, when the eldest little girl offered her bread-and-butter,
+she stooped her head and took it from the child's hand, just like a
+young lady. Indeed, Jess&mdash;that was her name&mdash;was altogether so
+lady-like in her behavior, that more than once Cook allowed her to
+walk in at the back-door, when she stood politely warming her nose
+at the kitchen-fire for a minute or two, then turned round and as
+politely walked out again. But she never did any mischief; and was
+so quiet and gentle a creature that she bade fair soon to become as
+great a pet in the household as the dog, the cat, the kittens, the
+puppies, the fowls, the ducks, the cow, the pig, and all the other
+members of the family.</p>
+
+<p>The only one who disliked her, and grumbled at her, was the
+Gardener. This was odd; because, though cross to children, the
+old man was kind to dumb beasts. Even his pig knew his voice and
+grunted, and held out his nose to be scratched; and he always gave
+each successive pig a name, Jack or Dick, and called them by it,
+and was quite affectionate to them, one after the other, until the
+very day that they were killed. But they were English pigs&mdash;and
+the pony was Scotch&mdash;and the Devonshire Gardener hated every
+thing Scotch, he said; besides, he was not used to groom's work,
+and the pony required such a deal of grooming on account of her
+long hair. More than once Gardener threatened to clip it short,
+and turn her into a regular English pony, but the children were in
+such distress and mother forbade any such spoiling of Jessie's personal
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>At length, to keep things smooth, and to avoid the rough words
+and even blows which poor Jess sometimes got, they sought in the
+village for a boy to look after her, and found a great rough, shock-headed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+lad named Bill, who, for a few shillings a week, consented
+to come up every morning and learn the beginning of a groom's
+business; hoping to end, as his mother said he should, in sitting, like
+the squire's fat coachman, as broad as he was long, on the top of
+the hammer-cloth of a grand carriage, and do nothing all day but
+drive a pair of horses as stout as himself a few miles along the road
+and back again.</p>
+
+<p>Bill would have liked this very much, he thought, if he could have
+been a coachman all at once, for if there was one thing he disliked,
+it was work. He much preferred to lie in the sun all day and do
+nothing; and he only agreed to come and take care of Jess because
+she was such a very little pony, that looking after her seemed next
+door to doing nothing. But when he tried it, he found his mistake.
+True, Jess was a very gentle beast, so quiet that the old mother-hen
+with fourteen chicks used, instead of roosting with the rest of the
+fowls, to come regularly into the portion of the cow-shed which was
+partitioned off for a stable, and settle under a corner of Jess's manger
+for the night; and in the morning the chicks would be seen running
+about fearlessly among her feet and under her very nose.</p>
+
+<p>But, for all that, she required a little management, for she did not
+like her long hair to be roughly handled; it took a long time to clean
+her; and, though she did not scream out like some silly little children
+when her hair was combed, I am afraid she sometimes kicked and
+bounced about, giving Bill a deal of trouble&mdash;all the more trouble,
+the more impatient Bill was.</p>
+
+<p>And then he had to keep within call, for the children wanted their
+pony at all hours. She was their own especial property, and they
+insisted upon learning to ride&mdash;even before they got a saddle. Hard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+work it was to stick on Jess's bare back, but by degrees the boys did
+it, turn and turn about, and even gave their sisters a turn too&mdash;a very
+little one&mdash;just once round the field and back again, which was quite
+enough, they considered, for girls. But they were very kind to
+their little sisters, held them on so that they could not fall, and led
+Jess carefully and quietly: and altogether behaved as elder brothers
+should.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did they squabble very much among themselves, though sometimes
+it was rather difficult to keep their turns all fair, and remember
+accurately which was which. But they did their best, being, on the
+whole, extremely good children. And they were so happy to have
+their pony, that they would have been ashamed to quarrel over
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Also, one very curious thing kept them on their good behavior.
+Whenever they did begin to misconduct themselves&mdash;to want to ride
+out of their turns, or to domineer over one another, or the boys,
+joining together, tried to domineer over the girls, as I grieve to say
+boys not seldom do&mdash;they used to hear in the air, right over their
+heads, the crack of an unseen whip. It was none of theirs, for they
+had not got a whip; that was a felicity which their father had promised
+when they could all ride like a young gentleman and ladies; but there
+was no mistaking the sound&mdash;indeed, it always startled Jess so that
+she set off galloping, and could not be caught again for many minutes.</p>
+
+<p>This happened several times, until one of them said, "Perhaps
+it's the Brownie." Whether it was or not, it made them behave better
+for a good while; till one unfortunate day the two eldest began contending
+which should ride foremost and which hindmost on Jess's
+back, when "Crick&mdash;crack!" went the whip in the air, frightening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+the pony so much that she kicked up her heels, tossed both the boys
+over her head, and scampered off, followed by a loud "Ha, ha, ha!"</p>
+
+<p>It certainly did not come from the two boys, who had fallen&mdash;quite
+safely, but rather unpleasantly&mdash;into a large nettle-bed; whence
+they crawled out, rubbing their arms and legs, and looking too much
+ashamed to complain. But they were rather frightened and a little
+cross, for Jess took a skittish fit, and refused to be caught and mounted
+again, till the bell rang for school&mdash;when she grew as meek as possible.
+Too late&mdash;for the children were obliged to run indoors, and got no
+more rides for the whole day.</p>
+
+<p>Jess was from this incident supposed to be on the same friendly
+terms with Brownie as were the rest of the household. Indeed, when
+she came, the children had taken care to lead her up to the coal-cellar
+door and introduce her properly&mdash;for they knew Brownie was very
+jealous of strangers, and often played them tricks. But after that
+piece of civility he would be sure, they thought, to take her under
+his protection. And sometimes, when the little Shetlander was
+restless and pricked up her ears, looking preternaturally wise under
+those shaggy brows of hers, the children used to say to one another,
+"Perhaps she sees the Brownie."</p>
+
+<p>Whether she did or not, Jess sometimes seemed to see a good deal
+that others did not see, and was apparently a favorite with the Brownie,
+for she grew and thrived so much that she soon became the pride
+and delight of the children and of the whole family. You would
+hardly have known her for the rough, shaggy, half-starved little
+beast that had arrived a few weeks before. Her coat was so silky,
+her limbs so graceful, and her head so full of intelligence, that every
+body admired her. Then even Gardener began to admire her too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I think I'll get upon her back; it will save me walking down to
+the village," said he, one day. And she actually carried him&mdash;though,
+as his feet nearly touched the ground, it looked as if the man
+were carrying the pony, and not the pony the man. And the children
+laughed so immoderately, that he never tried it afterward.</p>
+
+<p>Nor Bill neither, though he had once thought he should like a ride,
+and got astride on Jess; but she quickly ducked her head down, and
+he tumbled over it. Evidently she had her own tastes as to her
+riders, and much preferred little people to big ones.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty Jess! when cantering round the paddock with the young folk
+she really was quite a picture. And when at last she got a saddle&mdash;a
+new, beautiful saddle, with a pommel to take off and on, so as to
+suit both boys and girls&mdash;how proud they all were, Jess included!
+That day they were allowed to take her into the market-town&mdash;Gardener
+leading her, as Bill could not be trusted&mdash;and every body,
+even the blacksmith, who hoped by-and-by to have the pleasure of
+shoeing her, said, what a beautiful pony she was!</p>
+
+<p>After this, Gardener treated Jess a great deal better, and showed
+Bill how to groom her, and kept him close at it too, which Bill did
+not like at all. He was a very lazy lad, and whenever he could shirk
+work he did it; and many a time when the children wanted Jess, either
+there was nobody to saddle her, or she had not been properly groomed,
+or Bill was away at his dinner, and they had to wait till he came back
+and could put her in order to be taken out for a ride like a genteel
+animal&mdash;which I am afraid neither pony nor children enjoyed half
+so much as the old ways before Bill came.</p>
+
+<p>Still, they were gradually becoming excellent little horsemen and
+horsewomen&mdash;even the youngest, only four years old, whom all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+rest were very tender over, and who was often held on Jess's back
+and given a ride out of her turn because she was a good little girl,
+and never cried for it. And seldomer and seldomer was heard the
+mysterious sound of the whip in the air, which warned them of
+quarreling&mdash;Brownie hated quarreling.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/i019.jpg" width="500" height="254" alt="Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over it." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over it.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>In fact, their only trouble was Bill, who never came to his work
+in time, and never did things when wanted, and was ill-natured, lazy,
+and cross to the children, so that they disliked him very much.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish the Brownie would punish you," said one of the boys;
+"you'd behave better then."</p>
+
+<p>"The Brownie!" cried Bill, contemptuously; "if I caught him,
+I'd kick him up in the air like this!"</p>
+
+<p>And he kicked up his cap&mdash;his only cap, it was&mdash;which, strange
+to relate, flew right up, ever so high, and lodged at the very top of a
+tree which overhung the stable, where it dangled for weeks and weeks,
+during which time poor Bill had to go bareheaded.</p>
+
+<p>He was very much vexed, and revenged himself by vexing the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+children in all sorts of ways. They would have told their mother,
+and asked her to send Bill away, only she had a great many anxieties
+just then, for their old grandmother was very ill, and they did not
+like to make a fuss about any thing that would trouble her.</p>
+
+<p>So Bill staid on, and nobody found out what a bad, ill-natured,
+lazy boy he was.</p>
+
+<p>But one day the mother was sent for suddenly, not knowing when
+she should be able to come home again. She was very sad, and so
+were the children, for they loved their grandmother&mdash;and as the
+carriage drove off they all stood crying round the front-door for ever
+so long.</p>
+
+<p>The servants even cried too&mdash;all but Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said he. "What a
+jolly time I shall have! I'll do nothing all day long. Those troublesome
+children sha'n't have Jess to ride; I'll keep her in the stable,
+and then she won't get dirty, and I shall have no trouble in cleaning
+her. Hurrah! what fun!"</p>
+
+<p>He put his hands in his pockets, and sat whistling the best part of
+the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>The children had been so unhappy, that for that day they quite
+forgot Jess; but next morning, after lessons were over, they came
+begging for a ride.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't get one. The stable-door's locked and I've lost the
+key." (He had it in his pocket all the time.)</p>
+
+<p>"How is poor Jess to get her dinner?" cried a thoughtful little
+girl. "Oh, how hungry she will be!"</p>
+
+<p>And the child was quite in distress, as were the two other girls.
+But the boys were more angry than sorry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It was very stupid of you, Bill, to lose the key. Look about and
+find it, or else break open the door."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't," said Bill; "I dare say the key will turn up before night,
+and if it doesn't, who cares? You get riding enough and too much.
+I'll not bother myself about it, or Jess either."</p>
+
+<p>And Bill sauntered away. He was a big fellow, and the little lads
+were rather afraid of him. But as he walked, he could not keep
+his hand out of his trowsers-pocket, where the key felt growing heavier
+and heavier, till he expected it every minute to tumble through and
+come out at his boots&mdash;convicting him before all the children of having
+told a lie.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody was in the habit of telling lies to them, so they never suspected
+him, but went innocently searching about for the key&mdash;Bill
+all the while clutching it fast. But every time he touched it, he felt
+his fingers pinched, as <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">if</ins> there was a cockroach in his pocket&mdash;or
+little lobster&mdash;or something, anyhow, that had claws. At last, fairly
+frightened, he made an excuse to go into the cow-shed, took the key
+out of his pocket and looked at it, and finally hid it in a corner of the
+manger, among the hay.</p>
+
+<p>As he did so, he heard a most extraordinary laugh, which was
+certainly not from Dolly the cow, and, as he went out of the shed,
+he felt the same sort of pinch at his ankles, which made him so angry
+that he kept striking with his whip in all directions, but hit nobody
+for nobody was there.</p>
+
+<p>But Jess&mdash;who, as soon as she heard the children's voices, set
+up a most melancholy whinnying behind the locked stable-door&mdash;began
+to neigh energetically. And Boxer barked, and the hens
+cackled, and the guinea-fowls cried "Come back, come back!" in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+their usual insane fashion&mdash;indeed, the whole farmyard seemed in
+such an excited state, that the children got frightened lest Gardener
+should scold them, and ran away, leaving Bill master of the field.</p>
+
+<p>What an idle day he had! How he sat on the wall with his hands
+in his pockets, and lounged upon the fence, and sauntered around
+the garden! At length, absolutely tired of doing nothing, he went
+and talked with the Gardener's wife while she was hanging out her
+clothes. Gardener had gone down to the lower field, with all the
+little folks after him, so that he knew nothing of Bill's idling, or it
+might have come to an end.</p>
+
+<p>By-and-by Bill thought it was time to go home to his supper.
+"But first I'll give Jess her corn," said he, "double quantity, and
+then I need not come back to give her her breakfast so early in the
+morning. Soh! you greedy beast! I'll be at you presently, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'f'">if</ins> you
+don't stop that noise."</p>
+
+<p>For Jess, at sound of his footsteps, was heard to whinny in the
+most imploring manner, enough to have melted a heart of stone.</p>
+
+<p>"The key&mdash;where on earth did I put the key?" cried Bill, whose
+constant habit it was to lay things out of his hand and then forget
+where he had put them, causing himself endless loss of time in
+searching for them&mdash;as now. At last he suddenly remembered the
+corner of the cow's manger, where he felt sure he had left it. But
+the key was not there.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't have eaten it, you silly old cow," said he, striking
+Dolly on the nose as she rubbed herself against him&mdash;she was an
+affectionate beast. "Nor you, you stupid old hen!" kicking the
+mother of the brood, who, with her fourteen chicks, being shut out
+of their usual roosting-place&mdash;Jess's stable&mdash;kept pecking about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+under Dolly's legs. "It can't have gone without hands&mdash;of
+course it can't." But most certainly the key was gone.</p>
+
+<p>What in the world should Bill do? Jess kept on making a pitiful
+complaining. No wonder, as she had not tasted food since morning.
+It would have made any kind-hearted person quite sad to hear her,
+thinking how exceedingly hungry the poor pony must be.</p>
+
+<p>Little did Bill care for that, or for anything, except that he should
+be sure to get into trouble as soon as he was found out. When he
+heard Gardener coming into the farmyard, with the children after
+him, Bill bolted over the wall like a flash of lightning, and ran away
+home, leaving poor Jess to her fate.</p>
+
+<p>All the way he seemed to hear at his heels a little dog yelping, and
+then a swarm of gnats buzzing round his head, and altogether was
+so perplexed and bewildered, that when he got into his mother's
+cottage he escaped into bed, and pulled the blanket over his ears
+to shut out the noise of the dog and the gnats, which at last turned into
+a sound like somebody laughing. It was not his mother, she didn't
+often laugh, poor soul!&mdash;Bill bothered her quite too much for that,
+and he knew it. Dreadfully frightened, he hid his head under the
+bedclothes, determined to go to sleep and think about nothing till
+next day.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Gardener returned, with all the little people trooping
+after him. He had been rather kinder to them than usual this day,
+because he knew their mother had gone away in trouble, and now
+he let them help him to roll the gravel, and fetch up Dolly to be
+milked, and watch him milk her in the cow-shed&mdash;where, it being
+nearly winter, she always spent the night now. They were so well
+amused that they forgot all about their disappointment as to the ride,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+and Jess did not remind them of it by her whinnying. For as soon
+as Bill was gone she grew silent.</p>
+
+<p>At last one little girl, the one who had cried over Jess's being
+left hungry, remembered the poor pony, and, peeping through a crevice
+in the cow-shed, saw her stand contentedly munching at a large bowlful
+of corn.</p>
+
+<p>"So Bill did find the key. I'm very glad," thought the kind
+little maiden, and to make sure looked again, when&mdash;what do you
+think she beheld squatting on the manger? Something brown&mdash;either
+a large brown rat, or a small brown man. But she held her
+tongue, since, being a very little girl, people sometimes laughed at
+her for the strange things she saw. She was quite certain she did
+see them, for all that.</p>
+
+<p>So she and the rest of the children went indoors and to bed. When
+they were fast asleep, something happened. Something so curious,
+that the youngest boy, who, thinking he heard Jess neighing, got up
+to look out, was afraid to tell, lest he too should be laughed at, and
+went back to bed immediately.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the night, a little old brown man carrying a lantern,
+or at least having a light in his hand that looked like a lantern&mdash;went
+and unlocked Jess's stable, and patted her pretty head. At first she
+started, but soon she grew quiet and pleased, and let him do what
+he chose with her. He began rubbing her down, making the same
+funny hissing with his mouth that Bill did, and all grooms do&mdash;I never
+could find out why. But Jess evidently liked it, and stood as good
+as possible.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 414px;">
+<img src="images/i020.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.&mdash;Page 55" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.&mdash;Page 55</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Isn't it nice to be clean?" said the wee man, talking to her as if
+she were a human being, or a Brownie. "And I dare say your poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+little legs ache with standing so long. Shall we have a run together?
+the moon shines bright in the clear, cold night. Dear me! I'm
+talking poetry."</p>
+
+<p>But Brownies are not poetical fairies, quite commonplace, and up
+to all sorts of work. So, while he talked, he was saddling and bridling
+Jess, she not objecting in the least. Finally, he jumped on her
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"'Off, said the stranger&mdash;off, off, and away!'" sang Brownie
+mimicking a song of the Cook's. People in that house often heard
+their songs repeated in the oddest way, from room to room, everybody
+fancying it was somebody else that did it. But it was only
+the Brownie. "Now, 'A southerly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim
+a hunting morning!'"</p>
+
+<p>Or night&mdash;for it was the middle of the night, though bright as
+day&mdash;and Jess galloped and the Brownie sat on her back as merrily
+as if they had gone hunting together all their days.</p>
+
+<p>Such a steeple-chase it was! They cleared the farmyard at a
+single bound, and went flying down the road, and across the ploughed
+field, and into the wood. Then out into the open country, and by-and-by
+into a dark, muddy lane&mdash;and oh! how muddy Devonshire
+lanes can be sometimes!</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go into the water to wash ourselves," said Brownie, and
+coaxed Jess into a deep stream, which she swam as bravely as possible&mdash;she
+had not had such a frolic since she left her native Shetland
+Isles. Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping as if she
+had been a water-dog instead of a pony. Brownie, too, shook himself
+like a rat or a beaver, throwing a shower round him in all directions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Never mind; at it again, my lass!" and he urged Jess into the
+water once more. Out she came, wetter and brisker than ever,
+and went back home again through the lane, and the wood, and the
+ploughed field, galloping like the wind, and tossing back her ears
+and mane and tail, perfectly frantic with enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>But when she reached her stable, the plight she was in would have
+driven any respectable groom frantic too. Her sides were white with
+foam, and the mud was sticking all over her like a plaster. As for
+her beautiful long hair, it was all caked together in a tangle, as if
+all the combs in the world would never make it smooth again. Her
+mane especially was plaited into knots, which people in Devonshire
+call elf-locks, and say, when they find them on their horses, that it
+is because the fairies have been riding them.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly, poor Jess had been pretty well ridden that night. When
+just as the dawn began to break, Gardener got up and looked into
+the farmyard, his sharp eye caught sight of the stable-door wide open.</p>
+
+<p>"Well done, Bill," shouted he, "up early at last. One hour
+before breakfast is worth three after."</p>
+
+<p>But no Bill was there; only Jess, trembling and shaking, all in a
+foam, and muddy from head to foot, but looking perfectly cheerful
+in her mind. And out from under her fore legs ran a small creature
+which Gardener mistook for Tiny, only Tiny was gray, and this
+dog was brown, of course!</p>
+
+<p>I should not like to tell you all that was said to Bill when, an hour
+after breakfast-time, he came skulking up to the farm. In fact, words
+failing, Gardener took a good stick and laid it about Bill's shoulders,
+saying he would either do this, or tell the mistress of him, and how
+he had left the stable-door open all night, and some bad fellow had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+stolen Jess, and galloped her all across the country, till, if she hadn't
+been the cleverest pony in the world, she never could have got back
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Bill durst not contradict this explanation of the story, especially
+as the key was found hanging up in its proper place by the kitchen
+door. And when he went to fetch it, he heard the most extraordinary
+sound in the coal-cellar close by&mdash;like somebody snoring
+or laughing. Bill took to his heels, and did not come back for a
+whole hour.</p>
+
+<p>But when he did come back, he made himself as busy as possible.
+He cleaned Jess, which was half a day's work at least. Then he
+took the little people a ride, and afterward put his stable in the most
+beautiful order, and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'altogetherwas'">altogether was</ins> such a changed Bill, that Gardener
+told him he must have left himself at home and brought back somebody
+else: whether or not, the boy certainly improved, so that there
+was less occasion to find fault with him afterward.</p>
+
+<p>Jess lived to be quite an old pony, and carried a great many people&mdash;little
+people always, for she herself never grew any bigger. But
+I don't think she ever carried a Brownie again.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/i021.png" width="200" height="76" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="five" summary="five">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE FIFTH</div>
+
+<div class='title'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;BROWNIE ON THE ICE</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>WINTER was a grand time with the six little children
+especially when they had frost and snow. This happened
+seldom enough for it to be the greatest possible treat when it did
+happen; and it never lasted very long, for the winters are warm in
+Devonshire.</div>
+
+<p>There was a little lake three fields off, which made the most splendid
+sliding-place imaginable. No skaters went near it&mdash;it was not
+large enough; and besides, there was nobody to skate, the neighborhood
+being lonely. The lake itself looked the loneliest place imaginable.
+It was not very deep&mdash;not deep enough to drown a man&mdash;but
+it had a gravelly bottom, and was always very clear. Also, the
+trees round it grew so thick that they sheltered it completely from
+the wind, so, when it did freeze, it generally froze as smooth as a sheet
+of glass.</p>
+
+<p>"The lake bears!" was such a grand event, and so rare, that when
+it did occur, the news came at once to the farm, and the children
+carried it as quickly to their mother. For she had promised them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+that, if such a thing did happen this year&mdash;it did not happen every
+year&mdash;lessons should be stopped entirely, and they should all go
+down to the lake and slide, if they liked, all day long.</p>
+
+<p>So one morning, just before Christmas, the eldest boy ran in with
+a countenance of great delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother, the lake bears!" (It was rather a compliment
+to call it a lake, it being only about twenty yards across and forty
+long.) "The lake really bears!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who says so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bill. Bill has been on it for an hour this morning, and has made
+us two such beautiful slides, he says&mdash;an upslide and a down-slide.
+May we go directly?"</p>
+
+<p>The mother hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"You promised, you know," pleaded the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then; only be careful."</p>
+
+<p>"And may we slide all day long, and never come home for dinner
+or any thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if you like. Only Gardener must go with you, and stay
+all day."</p>
+
+<p>This they did not like at all; nor, when Gardener was spoken to,
+did he.</p>
+
+<p>"You bothering children! I wish you may all get a good ducking
+in the lake! Serve you right for making me lose a day's work, just
+to look after you little monkeys. I've a great mind to tell your
+mother I won't do it."</p>
+
+<p>But he did not, being fond of his mistress. He was also fond of
+his work, but he had no notion of play. I think the saying of, "All
+work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," must have been applied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+to him, for Gardener, whatever he had been as a boy, was certainly
+a dull and melancholy man. The children used to say that if he and
+idle Bill could have been kneaded into one, and baked in the oven&mdash;a
+very warm oven&mdash;they would have come out rather a pleasant
+person.</p>
+
+<p>As it was, Gardener was any thing but a pleasant person; above
+all, to spend a long day with, and on the ice, where one needs all
+one's cheerfulness and good-humor to bear pinched fingers and
+numbed toes, and trips and tumbles, and various uncomfortablenesses.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll growl at us all day long&mdash;he'll be a regular spoil-sport!"
+lamented the children. "Oh! mother, mightn't we go alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said the mother; and her "No" meant no, though she was
+always very kind. They argued the point no more, but started off,
+rather downhearted. But soon they regained their spirits, for it
+was <ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word not present in the original">a</ins> bright, clear, frosty day&mdash;the sun shining, though not enough
+to melt the ice, and just sufficient to lie like a thin sprinkling over
+the grass, and turn the brown branches into white ones. The little
+people danced along to keep themselves warm, carrying between
+them a basket which held their lunch. A very harmless lunch it
+was&mdash;just a large brown loaf and a lump of cheese, and a knife to
+cut it with. Tossing the basket about in their fun, they managed
+to tumble the knife out, and were having a search for it in the long
+grass, when Gardener came up, grumpily enough.</p>
+
+<p>"To think of trusting you children with one of the table-knives
+and a basket! what a fool Cook must be! I'll tell her so; and if
+they're lost she'll blame me: give me the things."</p>
+
+<p>He put the knife angrily in one pocket. "Perhaps it will cut a hole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+in it," said one of the children, in rather a pleased tone than otherwise;
+then he turned the lunch all out on the grass and crammed it
+in the other pocket, hiding the basket behind a hedge.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I'll not be at the trouble of carrying it," said he, when
+the children cried out at this; "and you shan't carry it either, for you'll
+knock it about and spoil it. And as for your lunch getting warm in
+my pocket, why, so much the better this cold day."</p>
+
+<p>It was not a lively joke, and they knew the pocket was very dirty;
+indeed, the little girls had seen him stuff a dead rat into it only the
+day before. They looked ready to cry; but there was no help
+for them, except going back and complaining to their mother, and
+they did not like to do that. Besides, they knew that, though Gardener
+was cross, he was trustworthy, and she would never let them
+go down to the lake without him.</p>
+
+<p>So they followed him, trying to be as good as they could&mdash;though
+it was difficult work. One of them proposed pelting him with snowballs,
+as they pelted each other. But at the first&mdash;which fell in his
+neck&mdash;he turned round so furiously, that they never sent a second,
+but walked behind him as meek as mice.</p>
+
+<p>As they went, they heard little steps pattering after them.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is the Brownie to play with us&mdash;I wish he would,"
+whispered the youngest girl to the eldest boy, whose hand she generally
+held; and then the little pattering steps sounded again, traveling
+through the snow, but they saw nobody&mdash;so they said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The children would have liked to go straight to the ice; but Gardener
+insisted on taking them a mile round, to look at an extraordinary
+animal which a farmer there had just got&mdash;sent by his
+brother in Australia. The two old men stood gossiping so long that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+the children wearied extremely. Every minute seemed an hour till
+they got on the ice.</p>
+
+<p>At last one of them pulled Gardener's coat-tails, and whispered
+that they were quite ready to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm not," and he waited ever so much longer, and got a
+drink of hot cider, which made him quite lively for a little while.</p>
+
+<p>But by the time they reached the lake, he was as cross as ever.
+He struck the ice with his stick, but made no attempt to see if it really
+did bear&mdash;though he would not allow the children to go one step
+upon it till he had tried.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it doesn't bear, and you'll just have to go home again&mdash;a
+good thing too&mdash;saves me from losing a day's work."</p>
+
+<p>"Try, only try; Bill said it bore," implored the boys, and looked
+wistfully at the two beautiful slides&mdash;just as Bill said, one up and
+one down&mdash;stretching all across the lake; "of course it bears, or Bill
+could not have made these slides."</p>
+
+<p>"Bill's an ass!" said the Gardener, and put his heavy foot cautiously
+on the ice. Just then there was seen jumping across it a creature
+which certainly had never been seen on ice before. It made the
+most extraordinary bounds on its long hind legs, with its little fore
+legs tucked up in front of it as if it wanted to carry a muff; and its
+long, stiff tail sticking out straight behind, to balance it itself with
+apparently. The children at first started with surprise, and then
+burst out laughing, for it was the funniest creature, and had the
+funniest way of getting along, that they had ever seen in their lives.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the kangaroo!" said Gardener, in great excitement. "It
+has got loose&mdash;and it's sure to be lost&mdash;and what a way Mr. Giles
+will be in! I must go and tell him. Or stop, I'll try and catch it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But in vain&mdash;it darted once or twice across the ice, dodging him,
+as it were; and once coming so close that he nearly caught it by the
+tail&mdash;to the children's great delight&mdash;then it vanished entirely.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go and tell Mr. Giles directly," said Gardener, and then
+stopped. For he had promised not to leave the children; and it was
+such a wild-goose chase, after an escaped kangaroo. But he might
+get half a crown as a reward, and he was sure of another glass of cider.</p>
+
+<p>"You just stop quiet here, and I'll be back in five minutes," said
+he to the children. "You may go a little way on the ice&mdash;I think it's
+sound enough; only mind you don't tumble in, for there'll be nobody
+to pull you out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no," said the children, clapping their hands. They did not
+care for tumbling in, and were quite glad there was nobody there
+to pull them out. They hoped Gardener would stop a very long
+time away&mdash;only, as some one suggested when he was seen hurrying
+across the snowy field, he had taken away their lunch in his pocket,
+too.</p>
+
+<p>Off they darted, the three elder boys, with a good run; the biggest
+of the girls followed after them; and soon the whole four were skimming
+one after the other, as fast as a railway train, across the slippery
+ice. And, like a railway train, they had a collision, and all came
+tumbling one over the other, with great screaming and laughing, to
+the high bank on the other side. The two younger ones stood mournfully
+watching the others from the opposite bank&mdash;when there stood
+beside them a small brown man.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho-ho! little people," said he, coming between them and taking
+hold of a hand of each. His was so warm and theirs so cold, that it
+was quite comfortable. And then, somehow, they found in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+mouths a nice lozenge&mdash;I think it was peppermint, but am not sure;
+which comforted them still more.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you want me to play with you?" cried the Brownie; "then
+here I am. What shall we do? Have a turn on the ice together?"</p>
+
+<p>No sooner said than done. The two children felt themselves
+floating along&mdash;it was more like floating than running&mdash;with Brownie
+between them; up the lake, and down the lake, and across the lake,
+not at all interfering with the sliders&mdash;indeed, it was a great deal
+better than sliding. Rosy and breathless, their toes so nice and
+warm, and their hands feeling like mince-pies just taken out of the
+oven&mdash;the little ones came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>The elder ones stopped their sliding, and looked toward Brownie
+with entreating eyes. He swung himself up to a willow bough, and
+then turned head over heels on to the ice.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloo! you don't mean to say you big ones want a race too!
+Well, come along&mdash;if the two eldest will give a slide to the little ones."</p>
+
+<p>He watched them take a tiny sister between them, and slide her
+up one slide and down another, screaming with delight. Then he
+took the two middle children in either hand.</p>
+
+<p>"One, two, three, and away!" Off they started&mdash;scudding along
+as light as feathers and as fast as steam-engines, over the smooth,
+black ice, so clear that they could see the bits of stick and water-grasses
+frozen in it, and even the little fishes swimming far down below&mdash;if
+they had only looked long enough.</p>
+
+<p>When all had had their fair turns, they began to be frightfully
+hungry.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 427px;">
+<img src="images/i023.jpg" width="427" height="600" alt="The two little children felt themselves floating along&mdash;with Brownie between them&mdash;Page 64" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The two little children felt themselves floating along&mdash;with Brownie between them&mdash;Page 64</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Catch a fish for dinner, and I'll lend you a hook," said Brownie.
+At which they all laughed, and then looked rather grave. Pulling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+a cold, raw live fish from under the ice and eating it was not a pleasant
+idea of dinner. "Well, what would you like to have? Let the little
+one choose."</p>
+
+<p>She said, after thinking a minute, that she should like a currant-cake.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'd give all you a bit of it&mdash;a very large bit&mdash;I would indeed!"
+added she, almost with the tears in her eyes&mdash;she was so very
+hungry.</p>
+
+<p>"Do it, then!" said the Brownie, in his little squeaking voice.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately the stone that the little girl was sitting on&mdash;a round,
+hard stone, and so cold!&mdash;turned into a nice hot cake&mdash;so hot that
+she jumped up directly. As soon as she saw what it was, she clapped
+her hands for joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful cake! only we haven't got a
+knife to cut it."</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt in all their pockets, but somehow their knives never
+were there when they were wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Look! you've got one in your hand!" said Brownie to the little
+one; and that minute a bit of stick she held turned into a bread-knife&mdash;silver,
+with an ivory handle&mdash;big enough and sharp enough,
+without being too sharp. For the youngest girl was not allowed to use
+sharp knives, though she liked cutting things excessively, especially
+cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"That will do. Sit you down and carve the dinner. Fair shares
+and don't let any body eat too much. Now begin, ma'am," said
+the Brownie, quite politely, as if she had been ever so old.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how proud the little girl was. How bravely she set to work,
+and cut five of the biggest slices you ever saw, and gave them to her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+brothers and sisters, and was just going to take the sixth slice for
+herself, when she remembered the Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said she, as politely as he, though she was
+such a very little girl, and turned round to the wee brown man. But
+he was nowhere to be seen. The slices of cake in the children's
+hands remained cake, and uncommonly good it was, and such substantial
+eating that it did nearly the same as dinner; but the cake
+itself turned suddenly to a stone again, and the knife into a bit of
+stick.</p>
+
+<p>For there was the Gardener coming clumping along by the bank
+of the lake, and growling as he went.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got the kangaroo?" shouted the children, determined
+to be civil, if possible.</p>
+
+<p>"This <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'plaee'">place</ins> is bewitched, I think," said he, "The kangaroo was
+fast asleep in the cow-shed. What! how dare you laugh at me?"</p>
+
+<p>But they hadn't laughed at all. And they found it no laughing
+matter, poor children, when Gardener came on the ice, and began to
+scold them and order them about. He was perfectly savage with
+crossness; for the people at Giles's Farm had laughed at him very
+much, and he did not like to be laughed at&mdash;and at the top of the
+field he had by chance met his mistress, and she asked him severely
+how he could think of leaving the children alone.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether, his conscience pricked him a good deal, and when
+people's consciences prick them, sometimes they get angry with
+other people, which is very silly, and only makes matters worse.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing all this time?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"All this five minutes?" said the oldest boy, mischievously; for
+Gardener was only to be away five minutes, and he had staid a full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+hour. Also, when he fumbled in his pocket for the children's lunch&mdash;to
+stop their tongues, perhaps&mdash;he found it was not there.</p>
+
+<p>They set up a great outcry; for, in spite of the cake, they could
+have eaten a little more. Indeed, the frost had such an effect upon
+all their appetites, that they felt not unlike that celebrated gentleman
+of whom it is told that</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"He ate a cow, and ate a calf,<br />
+He ate an ox, and ate a half;<br />
+He ate a church, he ate the steeple,<br />
+He ate the priest, and all the people,<br />
+And said he hadn't had enough then."<br />
+</div>
+
+<p>"We're so hungry, so very hungry! Couldn't you go back again
+and fetch us some dinner?" cried they, entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not I, indeed. You may go back to dinner yourselves. You
+shall, indeed, for I want my dinner too. Two hours is plenty long
+enough to stop on the ice."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't two hours&mdash;it's only one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, one will do better than more. You're all right now&mdash;and
+you might soon tumble in, or break your legs on the slide. So come
+away home."</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't kind of Gardener, and I don't wonder the children felt
+it hard; indeed, the eldest boy resisted stoutly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother said we might stop all day, and we will stop all day.
+You may go home if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't, and you shall!" said Gardener, smacking a whip that
+he carried in his hand. "Stop till I catch you, and I'll give you this
+about your back, my fine gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>And he tried to follow, but the little fellow darted across the ice,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+objecting to be either caught or whipped. It may have been rather
+naughty, but I am afraid it was great fun dodging the Gardener up
+and down; he being too timid to go on the slippery ice, and sometimes
+getting so close that the whip nearly touched the lad.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless us! there's the kangaroo again!" said he, starting. Just
+as he had caught the boy, and lifted the whip, the creature was seen
+hop-hopping from bank to bank. "I can't surely be mistaken this
+time; I must catch it."</p>
+
+<p>Which seemed quite easy, for it limped as if it was lame, or as if
+the frost had bitten its toes, poor beast! Gardener went after it,
+walking cautiously on the slippery, crackling ice, and never minding
+whether or not he walked on the slides, though they called out to him
+that his nailed boots would spoil them.</p>
+
+<p>But whether it was that ice which bears a boy will not bear a man,
+or whether at each lame step of the kangaroo there came a great crack,
+is more than I can tell. However, just as Gardener reached the
+middle of the lake, the ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.&mdash;The
+kangaroo too, apparently, for it was not seen afterward.</p>
+
+<p>What a hullaballoo the poor man made! Not that he was drowning&mdash;the
+lake was too shallow to drown any body, but he got terribly
+wet, and the water was very cold. He soon scrambled out, the boys
+helping him; and then he hobbled home as fast as he could, not even
+saying thank you, or taking the least notice of them.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, nobody took notice of them&mdash;nobody came to fetch them,
+and they might have staid sliding the whole afternoon. Only somehow
+they did not feel quite easy in their minds. And though the
+hole in the ice closed up immediately, and it seemed as firm as ever,
+still they did not like to slide upon it again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/i024.jpg" width="229" height="450" alt="The ice suddenly broke, and in he popped." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The ice <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'suddenl'">suddenly</ins> broke, and in he popped.</span>
+</div>
+<p>"I think we had better go home and tell mother every thing,"
+said one of them. "Besides, we ought to see what has become of
+poor Gardener. He was very wet."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but oh, how funny he
+looked!" And they all burst out
+laughing at the recollection of the
+figure he cut, scrambling out
+through the ice with his trowsers
+dripping up to the knees, and the
+water running out of his boots,
+making a little pool, wherever he
+stepped.</p>
+
+<p>"And it freezes so hard, that by
+the time he gets home his clothes
+will be as stiff as a board. His
+wife will have to put him to the
+fire to thaw before he can get out
+of them."</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Again the little people burst into
+shouts of laughter. Although
+they laughed, they were a little
+sorry for the poor old Gardener,
+and hoped no great harm had come to him, but that he had got safe
+home and been dried by his own warm fire.</p>
+
+<p>The frosty mist was beginning already to rise, and the sun, though
+still high up in the sky, looked like a ball of red-hot iron as the six
+children went homeward across the fields&mdash;merry enough still, but
+not quite so merry as they had been a few hours before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Let's hope mother won't be vexed with us," said they, "but will
+let us come back again to-morrow. It wasn't our fault that Gardener
+tumbled in."</p>
+
+<p>As somebody said this, they all heard quite distinctly, "Ha, ha,
+ha!" and "Ho, ho, ho!" and a sound of little steps pattering behind.</p>
+
+<p>But whatever they thought, nobody ventured to say that it was the
+fault of the Brownie.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 102px;">
+<img src="images/i025.png" width="102" height="300" alt="Roses" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+<div class='center'><table class="six" summary="six">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class='chapter'>ADVENTURE THE SIXTH<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;AND LAST</div>
+
+<div class='title'>BROWNIE AND THE CLOTHES</div><br /><br /><br /><br />
+</td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='cap'>TILL the next time; but when there
+is a Brownie in the house, no
+one can say that any of his tricks will be the last. For there's no
+stopping a Brownie, and no getting rid of him either. This one had
+followed the family from house to house, generation after generation&mdash;never
+any older, and sometimes seeming even to grow younger by
+the tricks he played. In fact, though he looked like an old man, he
+was a perpetual child.</div>
+
+<p>To the children he never did any harm, quite the contrary. And
+his chief misdoings were against those who vexed the children. But
+he gradually made friends with several of his grown up enemies.
+Cook, for instance, who had ceased to be lazy at night and late in
+the morning, found no more black footmarks on her white table cloth.
+And Brownie found his basin of milk waiting for him, night after
+night, behind the coal-cellar door.</p>
+
+<p>Bill, too, got on well enough with his pony, and Jess was taken
+no more night-rides. No ducks were lost; and Dolly gave her milk
+quite comfortably to whoever milked her. Alas! this was either<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+Bill or the Gardener's wife now. After that adventure on the ice,
+poor Gardener very seldom appeared; when he did, it was on two
+crutches, for he had had rheumatism in his feet, and could not stir
+outside his cottage door. Bill, therefore, had double work; which
+was probably all the better for Bill.</p>
+
+<p>The garden had to take care of itself; but this being winter-time, it
+did not much signify. Besides, Brownie seldom went into the
+garden, except in summer; during the hard weather he preferred
+to stop in his coal-cellar. It might not have been a lively place,
+but it was warm, and he liked it.</p>
+
+<p>He had company there, too; for when the cat had more kittens&mdash;the
+kitten he used to tease being grown up now&mdash;they were all put
+in a hamper in the coal-cellar; and of cold nights Brownie used to
+jump in beside them, and be as warm and as cozy as a kitten himself.
+The little things never were heard to mew; so it may be supposed
+they liked his society. And the old mother-cat evidently bore him
+no malice for the whipping she had got by mistake; so Brownie must
+have found means of coaxing her over. One thing you may be
+sure of&mdash;all the while she and her kittens were in his coal-cellar, he
+took care never to turn himself into a mouse.</p>
+
+<p>He was spending the winter, on the whole, very comfortably,
+without much trouble either to himself or his neighbors, when one
+day, the coal-cellar being nearly empty, two men, and a great wagon-load
+of coals behind them, came to the door, Gardener's wife following.</p>
+
+<p>"My man says you're to give the cellar a good cleaning out before
+you put any more in," said she, in her sharp voice; "and don't be
+lazy about it. It'll not take you ten minutes, for it's nearly all coal-dust,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+except that one big lump in the corner&mdash;you might clear that
+out too."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, it's the Brownie's lump! better not meddle with it," whispered
+the little scullery-maid.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you meddle with matters that can't concern you," said
+the Gardener's wife, who had been thinking what a nice help it would
+be to her fire. To be sure, it was not her lump of coal, but she
+thought she might take it; the mistress would never miss it, or the
+Brownie either. He must be a very silly old Brownie to live under
+a lump of coal.</p>
+
+<p>So she argued with herself, and made the men lift it. "You must
+lift it, you see, if you are to sweep the coal-cellar out clean. And
+you may as well put it on the barrow, and I'll wheel it out of your
+way."</p>
+
+<p>This she said in quite a civil voice, lest they should tell of her, and
+stood by while it was being done. It was done without any thing
+happening, except that a large rat ran out of the coal-cellar door,
+bouncing against her feet, and frightening her so much that she
+nearly tumbled down.</p>
+
+<p>"See what nonsense it is to talk of Brownies living in a coal-cellar.
+Nothing lives there but rats, and I'll have them poisoned pretty soon,
+and get rid of them."</p>
+
+<p>But she was rather frightened all the same, for the rat had been
+such a very big rat, and had looked at her, as it darted past, with
+such wild, bright, mischievous eyes&mdash;brown eyes, of course&mdash;that
+she all but jumped with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>However, she had got her lump of coal, and was wheeling it quietly
+away, nobody seeing, to her cottage at the bottom of the garden. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+was a hard-worked woman, and her husband's illness made things
+harder for her. Still, she was not quite easy at taking what did not
+belong to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose any body will miss the coal," she repeated.
+"I dare say the mistress would have given it to me if I had asked her;
+and as for its being the Brownie's lump&mdash;fudge! Bless us! what's
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>For the barrow began to creak dreadfully, and every creak sounded
+like the cry of a child, just as if the wheel were going over its leg
+and crushing its poor little bones.</p>
+
+<p>"What a horrid noise! I must grease the barrow. If only I
+knew where they keep the grease-box. All goes wrong, now my old
+man's laid up. Oh, dear! oh dear!"</p>
+
+<p>For suddenly the barrow had tilted over, though there was not a
+single stone near, and the big coal was tumbled on to the ground,
+where it broke into a thousand pieces. Gathering it up again was
+hopeless, and it made such a mess on the gravel-walk, that the old
+woman was thankful her misfortune happened behind the privet
+hedge, where nobody was likely to come.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take a broom and sweep it up to-morrow. Nobody goes near
+the orchard now, except me when I hang out the clothes; so I need
+say nothing about it to the old man or any body. But ah! deary me,
+what a beautiful lot of coal I've lost!"</p>
+
+<p>She stood and looked at it mournfully, and then went into her cottage,
+where she found two or three of the little children keeping Gardener
+company. They did not dislike to do this now; but he was so much
+kinder than he used to be&mdash;so quiet and patient, though he suffered
+very much. And he had never once reproached them for what they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+always remembered&mdash;how it was ever since he was on the ice with
+them that he had got the rheumatism.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 226px;">
+<img src="images/i027.jpg" width="226" height="450" alt="Suddenly the barrow had tilted over." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Suddenly the barrow had tilted over.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So, one or other of them made a point of going to see him every
+day, and telling him all the funny
+things they could think of&mdash;indeed,
+it was a contest among them who
+should first make Gardener laugh.
+They did not succeed in doing
+that exactly; but they managed to
+make him smile; and he was always
+gentle and grateful to them;
+so that they sometimes thought
+it was rather nice his being ill.</p>
+
+<p>But his wife was not pleasant;
+she grumbled all day long, and
+snapped at him and his visitors;
+being especially snappish this day,
+because she had lost her big coal.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't have you children come
+bothering here," said she, crossly.
+"I want to wring out my clothes,
+and hang them to dry. Be off with
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Let us stop a little&mdash;just to tell Gardener this one curious thing
+about Dolly and the pig&mdash;and then we'll help you to take your clothes
+to the orchard; we can carry your basket between us&mdash;we can, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>That was the last thing the woman wished; for she knew the
+that the children would be sure to see the mess on the gravel-walk&mdash;and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+they were such inquisitive children&mdash;they noticed every thing.
+They would want to know all about it, and how the bits of coal came
+there. It was very a awkward position. But people who take other
+people's property often do find themselves in awkward positions.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, young gentlemen," said she, quite politely; "but
+indeed the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bakset'">basket</ins> is too heavy for you. However, you may stop
+and gossip a little longer with my old man. He likes it."</p>
+
+<p>And, while they were shut up with Gardener in his bedroom, off
+she went, carrying the basket on her head, and hung her clothes
+carefully out&mdash;the big things on lines between the fruit trees, and the
+little things, such as stockings and pocket handkerchiefs, stuck on
+the gooseberry-bushes, or spread upon the clean green grass.</p>
+
+<p>"Such a fine day as it is! they'll dry directly," said she, cheerfully,
+to herself. "Plenty of sun, and not a breath of wind to blow them
+about. I'll leave them for an hour or two, and come and fetch them
+in before it grows dark. Then I shall get all my folding done by
+bedtime, and have a clear day for ironing to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>But when she did fetch them in, having bundled them all together
+in the dusk of the evening, never was such a sight as those clothes!
+They were all twisted in the oddest way&mdash;the stockings turned inside
+out, with the heels and toes tucked into the legs; the sleeves of the
+shirts tied together in double knots, the pocket-handkerchiefs made
+into round balls, so tight that if you had pelted a person with them
+they would have given very hard <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bolws'">blows</ins> indeed. And the whole
+looked as if, instead of lying quietly on the grass and bushes, they had
+been dragged through heaps of mud and then stamped upon, so that
+there was not a clean inch upon them from end to end.</p>
+
+<p>"What a horrid mess!" cried the Gardener's wife, who had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+at first very angry, and then very frightened. "But I know what it
+<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'it'">is</ins>; that nasty Boxer has got loose again. It's he that has done it."</p>
+
+<p>"Boxer wouldn't tie shirt-sleeves in double knots, or make balls
+of pocket-handkerchiefs," Gardener was heard to answer, solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it's those horrid children; they are always up to some
+mischief or other&mdash;just let me catch them!"</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better not," said somebody in a voice exactly like Gardener's,
+though he himself declared he had not spoken a word. Indeed,
+he was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of," the
+Gardener's wife said, supposing she was talking to her husband all the
+time; but soon she held her tongue, for she found here and there
+among the clothes all sorts of queer marks&mdash;marks of fingers, and
+toes, and heels, not in mud at all, but in coal-dust, as black as black
+could be.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as the place where the big coal had tumbled out of the
+barrow was fully fifty yards from the orchard, and, as the coal could
+not come to the clothes, and the clothes could not go without hands,
+the only conclusion she could arrive at was&mdash;well, no particular
+conclusion at all!</p>
+
+<p>It was too late that night to begin washing again; besides, she was
+extremely tired, and her husband woke up rather worse than usual,
+so she just bundled the clothes up anyhow in a corner, put the kitchen
+to rights, and went mournfully to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning she got up long before it was light, washed her
+clothes through all over again, and, it being impossible to dry them
+by the fire, went out with them once more, and began spreading
+them out in their usual corner, in a hopeless and melancholy manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+While she was at it, the little folks came trooping around her. She
+didn't scold them this time, she was too low-spirited.</p>
+
+<p>"No! my old man isn't any better, and I don't fancy he ever will
+be," said she, in answer to their questions. "And every thing's
+going wrong with us&mdash;just listen!" And she told the trick which
+had been played her about the clothes.</p>
+
+<p>The little people tried not to laugh, but it was so funny; and even
+now, the minute she had done hanging them out, there was something
+so droll in the way the clothes blew about, without any wind;
+the shirts hanging with their necks <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'donwward'">downward</ins>, as if there was a man
+inside them; and the drawers standing stiffly astride on the gooseberry-bushes,
+for all the world as if they held a pair of legs still. As
+for Gardener's night-caps&mdash;long, white cotton, with a tassel at the
+top&mdash;they were alarming to look at; just like a head stuck on the top
+of a pole.</p>
+
+<p>The whole thing was so peculiar, and the old woman so comical
+in her despair, that the children, after trying hard to keep it in, at
+last broke into shouts of laughter. She turned furiously upon them.</p>
+
+<p>"It was you who did it!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed it wasn't!" said they, jumping farther to escape
+her blows. For she had got one of her clothes-props, and was laying
+about her in the most reckless manner. However, she hurt nobody,
+and then she suddenly burst out, not laughing, but crying.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a cruel thing, whoever has done it, to play such tricks on a
+poor old body like me, with a sick husband that she works hard for,
+and not a child to help her. But I don't care. I'll wash my clothes
+again, if it's twenty times over, and I'll hang them out again in the
+very place, just to make you all ashamed of yourselves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the little people were ashamed of themselves, though
+they really had not done the mischief. But they knew quite well
+who had done it, and more than once they were about to tell; only
+they were afraid, if they did so, they should vex the Brownie so much
+that he would never come and play with them any more.</p>
+
+<p>So they looked at one another without speaking, and when the Gardener's
+wife had emptied her basket and dried her eyes, they said
+to her, very kindly:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps no harm may come to your clothes this time. We'll
+sit and watch them till they are dry."</p>
+
+<p>"Just as you like; I don't care. Them that hides can find, and
+them that plays tricks knows how to stop 'em."</p>
+
+<p>It was not a civil speech, but then things were hard for the poor old
+woman. She had been awake nearly all night, and up washing at
+daybreak; her eyes were red with crying, and her steps weary and
+slow. The little children felt quite sorry for her, and, instead of
+going to play, sat watching the clothes as patiently as possible.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing came near them. Sometimes, as before, the things seemed
+to dance about without hands, and turn into odd shapes, as if there
+were people inside them; but not a creature was seen and not a sound
+was heard. And though there was neither wind nor sun, very soon
+all the linen was perfectly dry.</p>
+
+<p>"Fetch one of mother's baskets, and we'll fold it up as tidily as
+possible&mdash;that is, the girls can do it, it's their business&mdash;and we boys
+will carry it safe to Gardener's cottage."</p>
+
+<p>So said they, not liking to say that they could not trust it out of
+their sight for fear of Brownie, whom, indeed, they were expecting
+to see peer round from every bush. They began to have a secret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+fear that he was rather a naughty Brownie; but then, as the eldest
+little girl whispered, "He was only a Brownie, and knew no better."
+Now they were growing quite big children, who would be men and
+women some time; when they hoped they would never do any thing
+wrong. (Their parents hoped the same, but doubted it.)</p>
+
+<p>In a serious and careful manner they folded up the clothes, and
+laid them one by one in the basket without any mischief, until, just
+as the two biggest boys were lifting their burden to carry it away,
+they felt something tugging at it from underneath.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloo! Where are you taking all this rubbish? Better give
+it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, if you please," said they, very civilly, not to offend the little
+brown man. "We'll not trouble you, thanks! We'd rather do it
+ourselves; for poor Gardener is very ill, and his wife is very miserable,
+and we are extremely sorry for them both."</p>
+
+<p>"Extremely sorry!" cried Brownie, throwing up his cap in the
+air, and tumbling head over heels in an excited manner. "What
+in the world does extremely sorry mean?"</p>
+
+<p>The children could not explain, especially to a Brownie; but they
+thought they understood&mdash;anyhow, they felt it. And they looked so
+sorrowful that the Brownie could not tell what to make of it.</p>
+
+<p>He could not be said to be sorry, since, being a Brownie, and not
+a human being, knowing right from wrong, he never tried particularly
+to do right, and had no idea that he was doing wrong. But he seemed
+to have an idea that he was troubling the children, and he never liked
+to see them look unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>So he turned head over heels six times running, and then came
+back again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The silly old woman! I washed her clothes for her last night
+in a way she didn't expect. I hadn't any soap, so I used a little
+mud and coal-dust, and very pretty they looked. Ha, ha, ha! Shall
+I wash them over again to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, please don't!" implored the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I starch and iron them? I'll do it beautifully. One&mdash;two&mdash;three,
+five&mdash;six&mdash;seven, Abracadabra, tum&mdash;tum&mdash;ti!" shouted
+he, jabbering all sorts of nonsense, as it seemed to the children, and
+playing such antics that they stood and stared in the utmost amazement,
+and quite forgot the clothes. When they looked round again,
+the basket was gone.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"Seek till you find, seek till you find,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Under the biggest gooseberry-bush, exactly to your mind."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>They heard him singing this remarkable rhyme, long after they
+had lost sight of him. And then they all set about searching; but it
+was a long while before they found, and still longer before they could
+decide, which was the biggest gooseberry-bush, each child having
+his or her opinion&mdash;sometimes a very strong one&mdash;on the matter.
+At last they agreed to settle it by pulling half-a-dozen little sticks,
+to see which stick was the longest, and the child that held it was to
+decide the gooseberry-bush.</p>
+
+<p>This done, underneath the branches what should they find but
+the identical basket of clothes! only, instead of being roughly dried,
+they were all starched and ironed in the most beautiful manner. As
+for the shirts, they really were a picture to behold, and the stockings
+were all folded up, and even darned in one or two places, as neatly
+as possible. And strange to tell, there was not a single black mark
+of feet or fingers on any one of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Kind little Brownie! clever little Brownie!" cried the children
+in chorus, and thought this was the most astonishing trick he had
+ever played.</p>
+
+<p>What the Gardener's wife said about it, whether they told her any
+thing, or allowed her to suppose that the clothes had been done in
+their own laundry instead of the Brownie's (wherever that establishment
+might be), is more than I can tell. Of one thing only I am
+certain&mdash;that the little people said nothing but what was true. Also,
+that the very minute they got home they told their mother every thing.</p>
+
+<p>But for a long time after that they were a good deal troubled.
+Gardener got better, and went hobbling about the place again, to
+his own and every body's great content, and his wife was less sharp-tongued
+and complaining than usual&mdash;indeed, she had nothing to
+complain of. All the family were very flourishing, except the little
+Brownie.</p>
+
+<p>Often there was heard a curious sound all over the house; it might
+have been rats squeaking behind the wainscot&mdash;the elders said it
+was&mdash;but the children were sure it was a sort of weeping and wailing.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"They've stolen my coal,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And I haven't a hole</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To hide in;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Not even a house</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">One could ask a mouse</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To bide in."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>A most forlorn tune it was, ending in a dreary minor key, and it
+lasted for months and months&mdash;at least the children said it did.
+And they were growing quite dull for want of a playfellow, when,
+by the greatest good luck in the world, there came to the house not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+only a new lot of kittens, but a new baby. And the new baby was
+everybody's pet, including the Brownie's.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 424px;">
+<img src="images/i028.jpg" width="424" height="600" alt="The new baby was everybody&#39;s pet.&mdash;Page 87" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The new baby was everybody&#39;s pet.&mdash;Page 87</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>From that time, though he was not often seen, he was continually
+heard up and down the staircase, where he was frequently mistaken
+for Tiny or the cat, and sent sharply down again, which was wasting
+a great deal of wholesome anger upon Mr. Nobody. Or he lurked
+in odd corners of the nursery, whither the baby was seen crawling
+eagerly after nothing in particular, or sitting laughing with all her
+might at something&mdash;probably her own toes.</p>
+
+<p>But, as Brownie was never seen, he was never suspected. And
+since he did no mischief&mdash;neither pinched the baby nor broke the
+toys, left no soap in the bath and no footmarks about the room&mdash;but
+was always a well-conducted Brownie in every way, he was
+allowed to inhabit the nursery (or supposed to do so, since, as nobody
+saw him, nobody could prevent him), until the children were grown
+up into men and women.</p>
+
+<p>After that he retired into his coal-cellar, and, for all I know, he
+may live there still, and have gone through hundreds of adventures
+since; but as I never heard them, I can't tell them. Only I think,
+if I could be a little child again, I should exceedingly like a Brownie
+to play with me. Should not you?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/i029.png" width="150" height="83" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/i030.png" width="600" height="120" alt="Some Poems For Children By Miss Mulock" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h3>THE BLACKBIRD AND THE ROOKS.</h3>
+
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">A slender</span> young Blackbird built in a thorn-tree<br />
+A spruce little fellow as ever could be;<br />
+His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black,<br />
+So long was his tail, and so glossy his back,<br />
+That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her eggs,<br />
+And only just left them to stretch her poor legs,<br />
+And pick for a minute the worm she preferred,<br />
+Thought there never was seen such a beautiful bird.<br />
+<br />
+And such a kind husband! how early and late<br />
+He would sit at the top of the old garden gate,<br />
+And sing, just as merry as if it were June,<br />
+Being ne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune.<br />
+"So unlike those Rooks, dear; from morning till night<br />
+They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight,<br />
+And wrangle and jangle, and plunder&mdash;while we<br />
+Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree."<br />
+<br />
+Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook<br />
+Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook,<br />
+And seizing a stick from the nest&mdash;"Come, I say,<br />
+That will just suit me, neighbor"&mdash;flew with it away<br />
+The lady loud twittered&mdash;her husband soon heard:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>Though peaceful, he was not a cowardly bird;<br />
+And with arguments angry enough to o'erwhelm<br />
+A whole Rookery&mdash;flew to the top of the elm.<br />
+<br />
+"How dare you, you&mdash;" (thief he was going to say;<br />
+But a civiller sentiment came in the way:<br />
+For he knew 'tis no good, and it anyhow shames<br />
+A gentleman, calling strange gentlemen names:)<br />
+"Pray what is your motive, Sir Rook, for such tricks,<br />
+As building your mansion with other folks' sticks?<br />
+I request you'll restore them, in justice and law."<br />
+At which the whole colony set up a&mdash;caw!<br />
+<br />
+But Blackbird, not silenced, then spoke out again;<br />
+"I've built my small nest with much labor and pain.<br />
+I'm a poor singing gentleman, Sirs, it is true,<br />
+Though cockneys do often mistake me for you;<br />
+But I keep Mrs. Blackbird, and four little eggs,<br />
+And neither e'er pilfers, or borrows, or begs.<br />
+Now have I not right on my side, do you see?"<br />
+But they flew at and pecked him all down the elm-tree.<br />
+<br />
+Ah! wickedness prospers sometimes, I much fear;<br />
+And virtue's not always victorious, that's clear:<br />
+At least, not at first: for it must be confessed<br />
+Poor Blackbird lost many a stick from his nest;<br />
+And his unkind grand neighbors with scoffing caw-caws,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>In his voice and his character found many flaws,<br />
+And jeered him and mocked him; but when they'd all done,<br />
+He flew to his tree and sang cheerily on.<br />
+<br />
+At length May arrived with her garlands of leaves;<br />
+The swallows were building beneath the farm-eaves,<br />
+Wrens, linnets, and sparrows, on every hedge-side,<br />
+Were bringing their families out with great pride;<br />
+While far above all, on the tallest tree-top,<br />
+With a flutter and clamor that never did stop,<br />
+The haughty old Rooks held their heads up so high,<br />
+And dreamed not of trouble&mdash;until it drew nigh!<br />
+<br />
+One morning at seven, as he came with delight<br />
+To his wife's pretty parlor of may-blossoms white,<br />
+Having fed all his family ere rise of sun,&mdash;<br />
+Mr. Blackbird perceived&mdash;a big man with a gun;<br />
+Who also perceived him: "See, Charlie, among<br />
+That may, sits the Blackbird we've heard for so long:<br />
+Most likely his nest's there&mdash;how frightened he looks!<br />
+Nay, Blackie, we're not come for you, but the Rooks."<br />
+<br />
+I don't say 'twas cruel&mdash;I can't say 'twas kind&mdash;<br />
+On the subject I haven't quite made up my mind:<br />
+But those guns went pop-popping all morning, alas!<br />
+And young Rooks kept dropping among the long grass,<br />
+Till good Mr. Blackbird, who watched the whole thing,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>For pity could scarcely a single note sing,<br />
+And in the May sunset he hardly could bear<br />
+To hear the returning Rooks' caw of despair.<br />
+<br />
+"O, dear Mrs. Blackbird," at last warbled he,<br />
+"How happy we are in our humble thorn-tree;<br />
+How gaily we live, living honest and poor,<br />
+How sweet are the may-blossoms over our door."<br />
+"And then our dear children," the mother replied,<br />
+And she nested them close to her warm feathered side,<br />
+And with a soft twitter of drowsy content,<br />
+In the quiet May moonlight to sleep they all went.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h3><br />THE SHAKING OF THE PEAR-TREE</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Of</span> all days I remember,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In summers passed away,</span><br />
+Was "the shaking of the pear-tree,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In grandma's orchard gay.</span><br />
+<br />
+A large old-fashioned orchard,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With long grass under foot,</span><br />
+And blackberry-brambles crawling<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In many a tangled shoot.</span><br />
+<br />
+From cherry time, till damsons<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dropped from the branches sere,</span><br />
+That wonderful old orchard<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was full of fruit all year;</span><br />
+<br />
+We pick'd it up in baskets,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or pluck'd it from the wall;</span><br />
+But the shaking of the pear-tree<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was the grandest treat of all.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Long, long the days we counted</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Until that day drew nigh;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Then, how we watched the sun set,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And criticised the sky!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">If rain&mdash;"'Twill clear at midnight;"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">If dawn broke chill and gray,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"O many a cloudy morning</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Turns out a lovely day."</span><br />
+<br />
+So off we started gaily,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heedless of jolt or jar;</span><br />
+Through town and lane, and hamlet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In old Llewellyn's car.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He's dead and gone&mdash;Llewellyn,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">These twenty years, I doubt:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If I put him in this poem,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He'll never find it out,</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The patient, kind Llewellyn&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Whose broad face smiled all o'er,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">As he lifted out us children</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">At grandma's very door.</span><br />
+<br />
+And there stood Grandma's Betty,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With cheeks like apples red;</span><br />
+And Dash, the spaniel, waddled<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Out of his cosy bed.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With silky ears down dropping,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And coat of chestnut pale;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He was so fat and lazy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He scarce could wag his tail.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Poor Dash is dead, and buried</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Under the lilac-tree;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">And Betty's old,&mdash;as, children,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We all may one day be.</span><br />
+<br />
+I hope no child will vex us,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As we vexed Betty then,</span><br />
+With winding up the draw-well,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or hunting the old hen.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And teasing, teasing, teasing,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Till afternoon wore round,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And shaken pears came tumbling</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">In showers upon the ground.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">O how we jumped and shouted!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">O how we plunged amid</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The long grass, where the treasures,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Dropped down and deftly hid;</span><br />
+<br />
+Long, slender-shaped, red-russet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or yellow just like gold;</span><br />
+Ah! never pears have tasted<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like those sweet pears of old!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">We ate&mdash;I'd best not mention</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">How many: paused to fill</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Big basket after basket;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Working with right good-will;</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then hunted round the orchard</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">For half-ripe plums&mdash;in vain;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">So, back unto the pear-tree,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">To eat, and eat again.</span><br />
+<br />
+I'm not on my confession,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And therefore need not say</span><br />
+How tired, and cross, and sleepy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some were ere close of day;</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For pleasure has its ending,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And eke its troubles too;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Which you'll find out, my children,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">As well as we could do.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But yet this very minute,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I seem to see it all&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The pear-tree's empty branches</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 6em;">The gray of evening-fall;</span><br />
+<br />
+The children's homeward silence,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The furnace fires that glowed,</span><br />
+Each mile or so, out streaming<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Across the lonely road;</span><br />
+<br />
+And high, high set in heaven,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One large bright, beauteous star,</span><br />
+That shone between the curtains<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of old Llewellyn's car.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE WONDERFUL APPLE-TREE.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">Come</span> here, my dear boys, and I'll tell you a fable,<br />
+Which you may believe as much as you're able;<br />
+It isn't all true, nor all false, I'll be bound&mdash;<br />
+Of the tree that bears apples all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+There was a Dean Tucker of Gloster city,<br />
+Who may have been wise, or worthy, or witty;<br />
+But I know nothing of him, the more's the pity,<br />
+Save that he was Dean Tucker of Gloster city.<br />
+<br />
+And walking one day with a musing air<br />
+In his Deanery garden, close by where<br />
+The great cathedral's west window's seen,&mdash;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>"I'll plant an apple," said Tucker the Dean.<br />
+<br />
+The apple was planted, the apple grew,<br />
+A stout young tree, full of leaves not few;<br />
+The apple was grafted, the apple bore<br />
+Of goodly apples, one, two, three, four.<br />
+<br />
+The old Dean walked in his garden fair,<br />
+"I'm glad I planted that young tree there,<br />
+Though it was but a shoot, or some old tree's sucker;<br />
+I'll taste it to-morrow," said good Dean Tucker.<br />
+<br />
+But lo, in the night when (they say) trees talk,<br />
+And some of the liveliest get up and walk,<br />
+With fairies abroad for watch and warden&mdash;<br />
+There was such a commotion in the Dean's garden!<br />
+<br />
+"I will not be gathered," the apple-tree said,<br />
+"Was it for this I blossomed so red?<br />
+Hung out my fruit all the summer days,<br />
+Got so much sunshine, and pleasure and praise?"<br />
+<br />
+"Ah!" interrupted a solemn red plum,<br />
+"This is the end to which all of us come;<br />
+Last month I was laden with hundreds&mdash;but now"&mdash;<br />
+And he sighed the last little plum off from his bough.<br />
+<br />
+"Nay, friend, take it easy," the pear-tree replied<br />
+(A lady-like person against the wall-side).<br />
+"Man guards, nurtures, trains us from top down to root:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>I think 'tis but fair we should give him our fruit."<br />
+<br />
+"No, I'll not be gathered," the apple resumed,<br />
+And shook his young branches, and fluttered and fumed;<br />
+"And I'll not drop neither, as some of you drop,<br />
+Over-ripe: I'm determined to keep my whole crop.<br />
+<br />
+"And I with"&mdash;O'er his branches just then <i>something</i> flew;<br />
+It seemed like moth, large and grayish of hue.<br />
+But it was a Fairy. Her voice soft did sound,<br />
+"Be the tree that bears apples all the year round."<br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+The Dean to his apple-tree, came, full of hope,<br />
+But tough was the fruit-stalk as double-twist rope,<br />
+And when he had cut it with patience and pain,<br />
+He bit just one mouthful&mdash;and never again.<br />
+<br />
+"An apple so tasteless, so juiceless, so hard,<br />
+Is, sure, good for nought but to bowl in the yard;<br />
+The choir-boys may have it." But choir-boys soon found<br />
+It was worthless&mdash;the tree that bore all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+And Gloster lads climbing the Deanery wall<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>Were punished, as well might all young <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'theives'">thieves</ins> appal,<br />
+For, clutching the booty for which they did sin,<br />
+They bit at the apples&mdash;and left their teeth in!<br />
+<br />
+And thus all the year from October till May,<br />
+From May till October, the apples shone gay;<br />
+But 'twas just outside glitter, for no hand was found<br />
+To pluck at the fruit which hung all the year round.<br />
+<br />
+And so till they rotted, those queer apples hung,<br />
+The bare boughs and blossoms and ripe fruit among<br />
+And in Gloster city it still may be found&mdash;<br />
+The tree that bears apples all the year round.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This tree, known among gardeners by the name of "Winter-hanger" or "Forbidden Fruit," was
+planted by Dean Tucker in 1760. It, or an off shoot from it, still exists in the city of Gloucester.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3><br />THE JEALOUS BOY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">What</span>, my little foolish Ned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Think you mother's eyes are blind,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That her heart has grown unkind,</span><br />
+And she will not turn her head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cannot see, for all her joy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her poor jealous little boy?</span><br />
+<br />
+What though sister be the pet&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Laughs, and leaps, and clings, and loves,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With her eyes as soft as dove's&mdash;</span><br />
+Why should yours with tears be wet?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why such angry tears let fall?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother's heart has room for all.</span><br />
+<br />
+Mother's heart is very wide,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And its doors all open stand:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lightest touch of tiniest hand</span><br />
+She will never put aside.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Why her happiness destroy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Foolish, naughty, jealous boy?</span><br />
+<br />
+Come within the circle bright,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where we laugh, and dance, and sing,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Full of love to everything;</span><br />
+As God loves us, day and night,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And <i>forgives</i> us. Come&mdash;with joy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother too forgives her boy.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE STORY OF THE BIRKENHEAD</h3>
+
+<h4>TOLD TO TWO CHILDREN</h4>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">And</span> so you want <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'fairy a'">a fairy</ins> tale,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My little maidens twain?</span><br />
+Well, sit beside the waterfall,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Noisy with last night's rain;</span><br />
+<br />
+On couch of moss, with elfin spears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bristling, all fierce to see,</span><br />
+When from the yet brown moor down drops<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lonely April bee.</span><br />
+<br />
+All the wide valley blushes green,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While, in far depths below,</span><br />
+Wharfe flashes out a great bright eye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then hides his shining flow;&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Wharfe, busy, restless, rapid Wharfe,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The glory of our dale;</span><br />
+O I could of the River Wharfe<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tell such a fairy tale!</span><br />
+<br />
+"The Boy of Egremond," you cry,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"And all the 'bootless bene:'</span><br />
+We know that poem, every word,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And we the Strid have seen."</span><br />
+<br />
+No, clever damsels: though the tale<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seems still to bear a part,</span><br />
+In every lave of Wharfe's bright wave,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The broken mother's heart&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+Little you know of broken hearts,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My Kitty, blithe and wise,</span><br />
+Grave Mary, with the woman soul<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dawning through childish eyes.</span><br />
+<br />
+And long, long distant may God keep<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The day when each shall know</span><br />
+The entrance to His kingdom through<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His baptism of woe!</span><br />
+<br />
+But yet 'tis good to hear of grief<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which He permits to be;</span><br />
+Even as in our green inland home<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We talk of wrecks at sea.</span><br />
+<br />
+So on this lovely day, when spring<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wakes soft o'er moor and dale,</span><br />
+I'll tell&mdash;not quite your wish&mdash;but yet<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A noble "fairy" tale.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+'Twas six o'clock in the morning,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sea like crystal lay,</span><br />
+When the good troop-ship Birkenhead<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Set sail from Simon's Bay.</span><br />
+<br />
+The Cape of Good Hope on her right<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gloomed at her through the noon:</span><br />
+Brief tropic twilight fled, and night<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fell suddenly and soon.</span><br />
+<br />
+At eight o'clock in the evening<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dim grew the pleasant land;</span><br />
+O'er smoothest seas the southern heaven<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its starry arch out-spanned.</span><br />
+<br />
+The soldiers on the bulwarks leaned,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Smoked, chatted; and below</span><br />
+The soldiers' wives sang babes to sleep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While on the ship sailed slow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Six hundred and thirty souls held she,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good, bad, old, young, rich, poor;</span><br />
+Six hundred and thirty living souls&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">God knew them all.&mdash;Secure</span><br />
+<br />
+He counted them in His right hand,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That held the hungering seas;</span><br />
+And to four hundred came a voice&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The Master hath need of these."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+On, onward, still the vessel went<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till, with a sudden shock,</span><br />
+Like one that's clutched by unseen Death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She struck upon a rock.</span><br />
+<br />
+She filled. Not hours, not minutes left;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each second a life's gone:</span><br />
+Drowned in their berths, washed overboard,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lost, swimming, one by one;</span><br />
+<br />
+Till, o'er this chaos of despair<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rose, like celestial breath,</span><br />
+The law of order, discipline,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Obedience unto death.</span><br />
+<br />
+The soldiers mustered upon deck,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As mute as on parade;</span><br />
+"Women and children to the boats!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And not a man gainsayed.</span><br />
+<br />
+Without a murmur or a moan<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They stood, formed rank and file,</span><br />
+Between the dreadful crystal seas<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the sky's dreadful smile.</span><br />
+<br />
+In face of death they did their work<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As they in life would do,</span><br />
+Embarking at a quiet quay&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A quiet, silent crew.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Now each man for himself. To the boats!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Arose a passing cry.</span><br />
+The soldier-captain answered, "Swamp<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The women and babes?&mdash;No, die!"</span><br />
+<br />
+And so they died. Each in his place,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Obedient to command,</span><br />
+They went down with the sinking ship,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Went down in sight of land.</span><br />
+<br />
+The great sea oped her mouth, and closed<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O'er them. Awhile they trod</span><br />
+The valley of the shadow of death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And then were safe with God.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class='poem'>
+My little girlies&mdash;What! your tears<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are dropping on the grass,</span><br />
+Over my more than "fairy" tale,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A tale that "really was!"</span><br />
+<br />
+Nay, dry them. If we could but see<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The joy in angels' eyes</span><br />
+O'er good lives, or heroic deaths<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of pure self-sacrifice,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+We should not weep o'er these that sleep&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their short, sharp struggle o'er&mdash;</span><br />
+Under the rolling waves that break<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon the Afric shore.</span><br />
+<br />
+God works not as man works, nor sees<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As man sees: though we mark</span><br />
+Ofttimes the moving of His hands<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath the eternal Dark.</span><br />
+<br />
+But yet we know that all is well<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That He, who loved all these,</span><br />
+Loves children laughing on the moor,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birds singing in the trees;</span><br />
+<br />
+That He who made both life and death,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He knoweth which is best:</span><br />
+We live to Him, we die to Him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And leave Him all the rest.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />BIRDS IN THE SNOW</h3>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Birds in the Snow">
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">CHILD</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">I wish</span> I were a little bird</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the sun shines</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>And the wind whispers low,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through the tall pines,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>I'd rock in the elm tops,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rifle the pear-tree,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hide in the cherry boughs,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">O such a rare tree!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">I wish I were a little bird;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">All summer long</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">I'd fly so merrily</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sing such a song!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Song that should never cease</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">While daylight lasted,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 3em;">Wings that should never tire</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Howe'er they hasted.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><br />MOTHER</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">But if you were a little bird&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">My baby-blossom.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Nestling so cosily</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">In mother's bosom,&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">A bird, as we see them now,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">When the snows harden,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">And the wind's blighting breath</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">Howls round the garden:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br />What would you do, poor bird,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In winter drear?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>No nest to creep into,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No mother near:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hungry and desolate,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Weary and woeful,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>All the earth bound with frost,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All the sky snow-full?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center'><br />CHILD (<i>thoughtfully</i>).</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">That would be sad, and yet</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hear what I'd do&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Mother, in winter time</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">I'd come to you!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">If you can like the birds</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Spite of their thieving,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Give them your trees to build,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Garden to live in,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 10em;">I think if I were a bird</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">When winter comes</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10em;">I'd trust you, mother dear,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">For a few crumbs,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 10em;">Whether I sang or not,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">Were lark, thrush, or starling.&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><span style="margin-left: 13em;">MOTHER (<i>aside</i>).</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;">Then&mdash;Father&mdash;I trust <i>Thee</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 12em;">With this my darling.</span></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE LITTLE COMFORTER</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">What</span> is wrong with my big brother?"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Says the child;</span><br />
+For they two had got no mother<br />
+And she loved him like no other:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">If he smiled,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">All the world seemed bright and gay</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">To this happy little May.</span><br />
+<br />
+If to her he sharply spoke,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">This big brother&mdash;</span><br />
+Then her tender heart nigh broke;<br />
+But the cruel pain that woke,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">She would smother&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">As a little woman can;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Was he not almost a man?</span><br />
+<br />
+But when trouble or disgrace<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Smote the boy,</span><br />
+She would lift her gentle face&mdash;<br />
+Surely 'twas her own right place.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 12em;">To bring joy?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">For she loved him&mdash;loved him so!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">Whether he was good or no</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">May be he will never feel</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Half her love;</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Wound her, and forget to heal:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Idle words are sharp as steel:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">But above,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I know what the angels say</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Of this silent little May.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />DON'T BE AFRAID.</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Don't</span> be afraid of the dark,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My daughter, dear as my soul!</span><br />
+You see but a part of the gloomy world,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But I&mdash;I have seen the whole,</span><br />
+And I know each step of the fearsome way,<br />
+Till the shadows brighten to open day.<br />
+<br />
+Don't be afraid of pain,<br />
+My tender little child:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When its smart is worst there comes strength to bear,</span><br />
+And it seems as if angels smiled,&mdash;<br />
+As I smile, dear, when I hurt you now.<br />
+In binding up that wound on your brow.<br />
+<br />
+Don't be afraid of grief,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Twill come&mdash;as night follows day,</span><br />
+But the bleakest sky has tiny rifts<br />
+When the stars shine through&mdash;as to say<br />
+Wait, wait a little&mdash;till night is o'er<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>And beautiful day come back once more.<br />
+<br />
+O child, be afraid of sin,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But have no other fear,</span><br />
+For God's in the dark, as well as the light;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And while we can feel Him near,</span><br />
+His hand that He gives, His love that He gave,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lead safely, even to the dark of the grave.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GIRL AND BOY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Alfred</span> is gentle as a girl,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But Judith longs to be a boy!</span><br />
+Would cut off every pretty curl<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With eager joy!</span><br />
+<br />
+Hates to be called "my dear"&mdash;or kissed:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For dollies does not care one fig:</span><br />
+Goes, sticking hands up to the wrist<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In jackets big.</span><br />
+<br />
+Would like to do whate'er boy can;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Play cricket&mdash;even to go school:</span><br />
+It is so grand to be a man!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A girl's a fool!</span><br />
+<br />
+But Alfred smiles superior love<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">On all these innocent vagaries.</span><br />
+He'd hate a goose! but yet a dove<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ah, much more rare is!</span><br />
+<br />
+She's anything but dove, good sooth!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But she's his dear and only sister:</span><br />
+And, had she been a boy, in truth<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How he'd have missed her.</span><br />
+<br />
+So, gradually her folly dies,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And she'll consent to be just human,</span><br />
+When there shines out of girlish eyes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The real Woman.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />AGNES AT PRAYER</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">Our</span> Father which art in heaven,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Little Agnes prays,</span><br />
+Though her kneeling is but show,<br />
+Though she is too young to know<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All, or half she says.</span><br />
+God will hear her, Agnes mild,<br />
+God will love the innocent child.<br />
+<br />
+"Our Father which art in heaven."<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She has a father here,</span><br />
+Does she think of his kind eyes,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>Tones that ne'er in anger rise&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Yes, dear," or "No, dear."</span><br />
+They will haunt her whole life long<br />
+Like a sweet pathetic song.<br />
+<br />
+"Our Father which art in heaven,"<br />
+Through thy peaceful prayer,<br />
+Think of the known father's face,<br />
+Of his bosom, happy place;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Safely sheltered there;</span><br />
+And so blessed&mdash;long may He bless!<br />
+Think too of the fatherless.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GOING TO WORK</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Come</span> along for the work is ready&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rough it may be, rough, tough and hard&mdash;</span><br />
+But&mdash;fourteen years old&mdash;stout, strong and steady,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life's game's beginning, lad!&mdash;play your card&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Mother stands at the door-step crying<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Well but she has a brave heart too:</span><br />
+She'll try to be glad&mdash;there's nought like trying,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She's proud of having a son like you.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Young as she is, her hair is whitening,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She has ploughed thro' years of sorrow deep,</span><br />
+She looks at her boy, and her eyes are brightening,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shame if ever you make them weep!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come along.</span><br />
+<br />
+Bravo! See how the brown cheek flushes!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ready to work as hard as you can?</span><br />
+I have always faith in a boy that blushes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">None will blush for him, when he's a man.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come along.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THREE COMPANIONS</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">We</span> go on our way together,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby, and dog, and I;</span><br />
+Three merry companions,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Neath any sort of sky;</span><br />
+Blue as her pretty eyes are,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or gray, like his dear old tail;</span><br />
+Be it windy, or cloudy, or stormy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our courage does never fail.</span><br />
+<br />
+Sometimes the snow lies thickly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Under the hedge-row bleak;</span><br />
+Then baby cries "Pretty, pretty,"<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The only word she can speak.</span><br />
+Sometimes two rivers of water<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Run down the muddy lane;</span><br />
+Then dog leaps backwards and forwards<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Barking with might and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'ma n'">main</ins>.</span><br />
+<br />
+Baby's a little lady,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dog is a gentleman brave:</span><br />
+If he had two legs as you have<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He'd kneel to her like a slave;</span><br />
+As it is he loves and protects her,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As dog and gentleman can;</span><br />
+I'd rather be a kind doggie<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I think, than a brute of a man.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE MOTHERLESS CHILD</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">She</span> was going home down the lonely street,<br />
+A widow-woman with weary feet<br />
+And weary eyes that seldom smiled:<br />
+She had neither mother, sister, nor child.<br />
+She earned her bread with a patient heart,<br />
+And ate it quietly and apart,<br />
+In her silent home from day to day,<br />
+No one to say her "ay," or "nay."<br />
+<br />
+She was going home without care to haste;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>What should she haste for? On she paced<br />
+Through the snowy night so bleak and wild,<br />
+When she thought she heard the cry of a child,<br />
+A feeble cry, not of hunger or pain,<br />
+But just of sorrow. It came again.<br />
+She stopped&mdash;she listened&mdash;she almost smiled&mdash;<br />
+"That sounds like a wail of a motherless child."<br />
+<br />
+A house stood open&mdash;no soul was there&mdash;<br />
+Her dull, tired feet grew light on the stair;<br />
+She mounted&mdash;entered. One bed on the floor,<br />
+And Something in it: and close by the door,<br />
+Watching the stark form, stretched out still,<br />
+Ignorant knowing not good nor ill,<br />
+But only a want and a misery wild,<br />
+Crouched the dead mother's motherless child.<br />
+<br />
+What next? Come say what would you have done<br />
+Dear children playing about in the sun,<br />
+Or sitting by pleasant fireside warm,<br />
+Hearing outside the howling storm?<br />
+The widow went in and she shut the door,<br />
+She stayed by the dead an hour or more&mdash;<br />
+And when she went home through the night so wild,<br />
+She had in her arms a sleeping child.<br />
+<br />
+Now she is old and feeble and dull,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>But her empty heart is happy and full<br />
+If her crust be hard and her cottage poor<br />
+There's a young foot tripping across the floor,<br />
+Young hands to help her that never tire,<br />
+And a young voice singing beside the fire;<br />
+And her tired eyes look as if they smiled,&mdash;<br />
+Childless mother and motherless child.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE WREN'S NEST</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">I took</span> the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heaven forgive me!</span><br />
+Its merry architects so small<br />
+Had scarcely finished their wee hall,<br />
+That empty still and neat and fair<br />
+Hung idly in the summer air.<br />
+The mossy walls, the dainty door,<br />
+Where Love should enter and explore,<br />
+And Love sit caroling outside,<br />
+And Love within chirp multiplied;&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heaven forgive me!</span><br />
+<br />
+How many hours of happy pains<br />
+Through early frosts and April rains,<br />
+How many songs at eve and morn<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>O'er springing grass and greening corn,<br />
+Before the pretty house was made!<br />
+One little minute, only one,<br />
+And she'll fly back, and find it&mdash;gone!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest;&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bird, forgive me!</span><br />
+<br />
+Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,<br />
+Ye have before you <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'al'">all</ins> the year,<br />
+And every wood holds nooks for you,<br />
+In which to sing and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bui d'">build</ins> and woo<br />
+One piteous cry of birdish pain&mdash;<br />
+And ye'll begin your life again,<br />
+Forgetting quite the lost, lost home<br />
+In many a busy home to come&mdash;<br />
+But I?&mdash;Your wee house keep I must<br />
+Until it crumble into <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'du t'">dust</ins>.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I took the wren's nest:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">God forgive me!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />A CHILD'S <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'SMIL'">SMILE</ins></h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">A child's</span> smile&mdash;nothing more;<br />
+Quiet and soft and grave, and seldom seen,<br />
+Like summer lightning o'er,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>Leaving the little face again serene.<br />
+<br />
+I think, boy well-beloved,<br />
+Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far<br />
+Thy childhood is removed<br />
+From sports that dear to other children are,<br />
+<br />
+On this pale cheek has thrown<br />
+The brightness of his countenance, and made<br />
+A beauty like his own&mdash;<br />
+That, while we see it, we are half afraid,<br />
+<br />
+And marvel, will it stay?<br />
+Or, long ere manhood, will that angel fair,<br />
+Departing some sad day,<br />
+Steal the child-smile and leave the shadow care?<br />
+<br />
+Nay, fear not. As is given<br />
+Unto this child the father watching o'er,<br />
+His angel up in heaven<br />
+Beholds Our Father's face for evermore.<br />
+<br />
+And he will help him bear<br />
+His burthen, as his father helps him now;<br />
+So he may come to wear<br />
+That happy child-smile on an old man's brow.<br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">A little</span> bird flew my window by,<br />
+'Twixt the level street and the level sky,<br />
+The level rows of houses tall,<br />
+The long low sun on the level wall<br />
+And all that the little bird did say<br />
+Was, "Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+A little bird sang behind my chair,<br />
+From the level line of corn-fields fair,<br />
+The smooth green <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'hedgegrow's'">hedgerow's</ins> level bound<br />
+Not a furlong off&mdash;the horizon's bound,<br />
+And the level lawn where the sun all day<br />
+Burns:&mdash;"Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+A little bird sings above my bed,<br />
+And I know if I could but lift my head<br />
+I would see the sun set, round and grand,<br />
+Upon level sea and level sand,<br />
+While beyond the misty distance gray<br />
+Is "Over the hills and far away."<br />
+<br />
+I think that a little bird will sing<br />
+Over a grassy mound, next spring,<br />
+Where something that once was <i>me</i>, ye'll leave<br />
+In the level sunshine, morn and eve:<br />
+But I shall be gone, past night, past day,<br />
+Over the hills and far away.<br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE TWO RAINDROPS</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Said</span> a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!<br />
+I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:<br />
+I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;<br />
+Swelling and filling and swelling again.<br />
+<br />
+"All the little rain-drops unto me run,<br />
+I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:<br />
+All the pretty children stand and at me stare;<br />
+Pointing with their fingers&mdash;'That's the biggest drop there.'"<br />
+<br />
+"Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;<br />
+"I don't myself see much cause for pride:<br />
+The bigger you swell up,&mdash;we know well, my friend,&mdash;<br />
+The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.<br />
+<br />
+"For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,<br />
+Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;<br />
+Looking at the firelight and the children fair,&mdash;<br />
+Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."<br />
+<br />
+"Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;<br />
+I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;<br />
+You'll run a race with me?&mdash;No?&mdash;Then 'tis plain<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>I am the largest drop in the whole pane."<br />
+<br />
+Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:<br />
+Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:<br />
+Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,<br />
+Just reached the window-sill&mdash;one splash&mdash;and was o'er.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />THE YEAR'S END</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">So</span> grows the rising year, and so declines<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end</span><br />
+Even as by slow and ever-varying signs<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.</span><br />
+<br />
+Great Father, who of every one takest care,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From him on whom full ninety years are piled</span><br />
+To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who children loves, being once himself a child,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+O make us day by day like Him to grow;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;</span><br />
+Because He loves those who obey Him so;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because His love is the best thing to seek,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because without His love, all loves are weak,&mdash;</span><br />
+<br />
+All earthly joys are miserable and poor,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,</span><br />
+Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens&mdash;sure<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That they will flourish&mdash;till in mid-day skies</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.</span><br />
+<br />
+O God, who art alone the life and light<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of this strange world to which as babes we come,</span><br />
+Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And at our year's end, Father, take us home.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+"<span class="smcap">Why</span> thus aside your playthings throw,<br />
+Over the wet lawn hurrying so?<br />
+Where are you going, I want to know?"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"I'm running after the rainbow."</span><br />
+<br />
+"Little boy, with your bright brown eyes<br />
+Full of an innocent surprise,<br />
+Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What do you want with the rainbow?"</span><br />
+<br />
+Arthur paused in his headlong race,<br />
+Turned to his mother his hot, young face,<br />
+"Mother, I want to reach the place<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">At either end of the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.<br />
+Such beautiful things may oft be found<br />
+Buried below, or scattered round,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If one can but catch the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+"O please don't hinder me, mother dear,<br />
+It will all be gone while I stay here;"<br />
+So with many a hope and not one fear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The child ran after the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Over the damp grass, ankle deep,<br />
+Clambering up the hilly steep,<br />
+And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But he couldn't catch the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+And when he came out at the wood's far side,<br />
+The sun was setting in golden pride,<br />
+There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But not a sign of the rainbow.</span><br />
+<br />
+Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,<br />
+"I wish I had thought what mother meant;<br />
+I wish I had only been content,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And not ran after the rainbow."</span><br />
+<br />
+And as he came sadly down the hill,<br />
+Stood mother scolding&mdash;but smiling still,<br />
+And hugged him up close, as mothers will:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So he quite forgot the rainbow.</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />DICK AND I</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">We're</span> going to a party, my brother Dick and I:<br />
+The best, grandest party we ever did try:<br />
+And I'm very happy&mdash;but Dick is so shy!<br />
+<br />
+I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,<br />
+And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:<br />
+Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!<br />
+<br />
+There is to be music&mdash;a real soldier's band:<br />
+And <i>I</i> mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,<br />
+Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.<br />
+<br />
+But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:<br />
+Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try&mdash;<br />
+Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.<br />
+<br />
+And I'm fond of my brother&mdash;this darling old Dick:<br />
+I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,<br />
+He's bad at a party&mdash;but at school he's a brick!<br />
+<br />
+So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,<br />
+Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.<br />
+<br />
+And his going to the party is just to please <i>me</i>,<br />
+Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!<br />
+But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."<br />
+<br />
+That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.<br />
+Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;<br />
+I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.<br />
+<br />
+And when he's a great man, a poet you see,<br />
+O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;<br />
+Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />GRANDPAPA</h3>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">Grandpapa</span> lives at the end of the lane,<br />
+His cottage is small and its furniture plain;<br />
+No pony to ride on, no equipage grand,&mdash;<br />
+A garden, and just half an acre of land;<br />
+No dainties to dine off, and very few toys,&mdash;<br />
+Yet is grandpapa's house the delight of the boys.<br />
+<br />
+Grandpapa once lived in one little room,<br />
+Grandpapa worked all day long at his loom:<br />
+He speaks with queer accent, does dear grandpapa,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>And not half so well as papa and mamma.<br />
+The girls think his clothes are a little rough,<br />
+But the boys all declare they can't love him enough.<br />
+<br />
+A man of the people in manners and mind,<br />
+Yet so honest, so tender, so clever, so kind:<br />
+Makes the best of his lot still, where'er it be cast.<br />
+A sturdy old Englishman, game to the last.<br />
+Though simple and humble and unknown to fame,<br />
+It's good luck to the boys to bear grandpapa's name!<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3><br />MONSIEUR ET MADEMOISELLE.</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Deux</span> petits enfants Francais,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Monsieur et Mademoiselle.</span><br />
+Of what can they be talking, child?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed I cannot tell.</span><br />
+But of this I am very certain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You would find naught to blame</span><br />
+In that sweet French politeness&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wish we had the same.</span><br />
+<br />
+Monsieur has got a melon,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And scoops it with his knife,</span><br />
+While Mademoiselle sits watching him:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No rudeness here&mdash;no strife:</span><br />
+Though could you listen only,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They're chattering like two pies&mdash;</span><br />
+French magpies, understand me&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So merry and so wise.</span><br />
+<br />
+Their floor is bare of carpet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their curtains are so thin,</span><br />
+They dine on meagre <i>potage</i>, and<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Put many an onion in!</span><br />
+Her snow-white caps she irons:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He blacks his shoes, he can;</span><br />
+Yet she's a little lady<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he's a gentleman.</span><br />
+<br />
+O busy, happy children!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That light French heart of yours,</span><br />
+Would it might sometimes enter at<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our solemn English doors!</span><br />
+Would that we worked as gaily,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And played, yes, played as well,</span><br />
+And lived our lives as simply<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As Monsieur et Mademoiselle.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/i031.png" width="150" height="85" alt="decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />YOUNG DANDELION</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Young</span> Dandelion<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On a hedge-side,</span><br />
+Said young Dandelion,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Who'll be my bride?</span><br />
+<br />
+"I'm a bold fellow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As ever was seen,</span><br />
+With my shield of yellow,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the grass green.</span><br />
+<br />
+"You may uproot me,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From field and from lane,</span><br />
+Trample me, cut me,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I spring up again.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I never flinch, Sir,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherever I dwell;</span><br />
+Give me an inch, Sir.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll soon take an ell.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Drive me from garden<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In anger and pride,</span><br />
+I'll thrive and harden<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By the road-side.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Not a bit fearful,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Showing my face,</span><br />
+Always so cheerful<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In every place."</span><br />
+<br />
+Said young Dandelion,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a sweet air,</span><br />
+"I have my eye on<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Miss Daisy fair.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Though we may tarry<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till past the cold,</span><br />
+Her I will marry<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ere I grow old.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I will protect her<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From all kinds of harm,</span><br />
+Feed her with nectar,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shelter her warm.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Whate'er the weather,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let it go by;</span><br />
+We'll hold together,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Daisy and I.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I'll ne'er give in,&mdash;no!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nothing I fear:</span><br />
+All that I win, O!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll keep for my dear."</span><br />
+<br />
+Said young Dandelion<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On his hedge-side,</span><br />
+"Who'll me rely on?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who'll be my bride?"</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><br />A SEPTEMBER ROBIN</h3>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">My</span> eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Amid these days so bright</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Of ceaseless warmth and light;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Summer that will not die,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Autumn, without one sigh</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">O'er sweet hours passing by&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Cometh that tender note</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Out of thy tiny throat,</span><br />
+Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,<br />
+O little plaintive bird!<br />
+<br />
+No need of word<br />
+Well know I all your tale&mdash;forgotten bird!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Soon you and I together</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Must face the winter weather,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Remembering how we sung</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Our primrose fields among,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In days when life was young;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Now, all is growing old,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And the warm earth's a-cold,</span><br />
+Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,<br />
+Sing only. Not one word.<br />
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p>
+<p>Text uses both tablecloth and table-cloth.</p>
+<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock
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+</body>
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@@ -0,0 +1,3932 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Adventures of A Brownie
+       As Told to My Child by Miss Mulock
+
+Author: Miss Mulock
+
+Release Date: November 17, 2009 [EBook #30494]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF
+
+A BROWNIE
+
+AS TOLD TO MY CHILD
+
+BY MISS MULOCK
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+          NEW YORK
+          McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHTED--1908--BY McLOUGHLIN BROS.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FIRST
+          Brownie and the Cook               5
+
+          ADVENTURE THE SECOND
+          Brownie and the Cherry-tree       17
+
+          ADVENTURE THE THIRD
+          Brownie in the Farmyard           26
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FOURTH
+          Brownie's Ride                    41
+
+          ADVENTURE THE FIFTH
+          Brownie on the Ice                58
+
+          ADVENTURE THE SIXTH AND LAST
+          Brownie and the Clothes           73
+
+          POEMS
+          The Blackbird and the Rooks       88
+          The Shaking of the Pear-tree      91
+          The Wonderful Apple-tree          95
+          The Jealous Boy                   98
+          The Story of the Birkenhead       99
+          Birds in the Snow                105
+          The Little Comforter             107
+          Don't Be Afraid                  108
+          Girl and Boy                     109
+          Agnes at Prayer                  110
+          Going to Work                    111
+          Three Companions                 112
+          The Motherless Child             113
+          The Wren's Nest                  115
+          A Child's Smile                  116
+          Over the Hills and Far Away      118
+          The Two Raindrops                119
+          The Year's End                   120
+          Running After the Rainbow        121
+          Dick and I                       123
+          Grandpapa                        124
+          Monsieur et Mademoiselle         125
+          Young Dandelion                  127
+          A September Robin                128
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FIRST
+
+BROWNIE AND THE COOK
+
+
+THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived--where do you think he lived?
+in a coal-cellar.
+
+Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in;
+but then a Brownie is a curious creature--a fairy, and yet not one of
+that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and dance in the
+moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would
+they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober, stay-at-home, household
+elf--nothing much to look at, even if you did see him, which you are not
+likely to do--only a little old man, about a foot high, all dressed in
+brown, with a brown face and hands, and a brown peaked cap, just the
+color of a brown mouse. And, like a mouse, he hides in corners--especially
+kitchen corners, and only comes out after dark when nobody is about, and
+so sometimes people call him Mr. Nobody.
+
+I said you were not likely to see him. I never did, certainly, and never
+knew any body that did; but still, if you were to go into Devonshire,
+you would hear many funny stories about Brownies in general, and so I
+may as well tell you the adventures of this particular Brownie, who
+belonged to a family there; which family he had followed from house to
+house, most faithfully, for years and years.
+
+A good many people had heard him--or supposed they had--when there were
+extraordinary noises about the house; noises which must have come from a
+mouse or a rat--or a Brownie. But nobody had ever seen him except the
+children--the three little boys and three little girls--who declared he
+often came to play with them when they were alone, and was the nicest
+companion in the world, though he was such an old man--hundreds of years
+old! He was full of fun and mischief, and up to all sorts of tricks, but
+he never did any body any harm unless they deserved it.
+
+Brownie was supposed to live under one particular coal, in the darkest
+corner of the cellar, which was never allowed to be disturbed. Why he
+had chosen it nobody knew, and how he lived there, nobody knew either,
+nor what he lived upon. Except that, ever since the family could
+remember, there had always been a bowl of milk put behind the
+coal-cellar door for the Brownie's supper. Perhaps he drank it--perhaps
+he didn't: anyhow, the bowl was always found empty next morning. The old
+Cook, who had lived all her life in the family, had never forgotten to
+give Brownie his supper; but at last she died, and a young cook came in
+her stead, who was very apt to forget every thing. She was also both
+careless and lazy, and disliked taking the trouble to put a bowl of milk
+in the same place every night for Mr. Nobody. "She didn't believe in
+Brownies," she said; "she had never seen one, and seeing's believing."
+So she laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave, and put
+the bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying
+much about it.
+
+But once, when Brownie woke up, at his usual hour for rising--ten
+o'clock at night, and looked round in search of his supper--which was,
+in fact, his breakfast--he found nothing there. At first he could not
+imagine such neglect, and went smelling and smelling about for his bowl
+of milk--it was not always placed in the same corner now--but in vain.
+
+"This will never do," said he; and being extremely hungry, began running
+about the coal-cellar to see what he could find. His eyes were as useful
+in the dark as in the light--like a pussy-cat's; but there was nothing
+to be seen--not even a potato paring, or a dry crust, or a well-gnawed
+bone, such as Tiny the terrier sometimes brought into the coal-cellar
+and left on the floor--nothing, in short, but heaps of coals and
+coal-dust; and even a Brownie cannot eat that, you know.
+
+"Can't stand this; quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening his
+belt to make his poor little inside feel less empty. He had been asleep
+so long--about a week, I believe, as was his habit when there was
+nothing to do--that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his boots,
+or any thing. 'What's to be done? Since nobody brings my supper, I must
+go and fetch it.'
+
+He spoke quickly, for he always thought quickly, and made up his mind in
+a minute. To be sure it was a very little mind, like his little body;
+but he did the best he could with it, and was not a bad sort of old
+fellow, after all. In the house he had never done any harm, and often
+some good, for he frightened away all the rats, mice, and black-beetles.
+Not the crickets--he liked them, as the old Cook had done: she said
+they were such cheerful creatures, and always brought luck to the house.
+But the young Cook could not bear them, and used to pour boiling water
+down their holes, and set basins of beer for them with little wooden
+bridges up to the brim, that they might walk up, tumble in, and be
+drowned.
+
+So there was not even a cricket singing in the silent house when Brownie
+put his head out of his coal-cellar door, which, to his surprise, he
+found open. Old Cook used to lock it every night, but the young Cook had
+left that key, and the kitchen and pantry keys too, all dangling in the
+lock, so that any thief might have got in, and wandered all over the
+house without being found out.
+
+"Hurrah, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the air, and
+bounding right through the scullery into the kitchen. It was quite
+empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out--just for its own
+amusement, and the remains of a capital supper spread on the
+table--enough for half a dozen people being left still.
+
+Would you like to know what there was? Devonshire cream, of course; and
+part of a large dish of junket, which is something like curds and whey.
+Lots of bread-and-butter and cheese, and half an apple-pudding. Also a
+great jug of cider and another of milk, and several half-full glasses,
+and no end of dirty plates, knives, and forks. All were scattered about
+the table in the most untidy fashion, just as the servants had risen
+from their supper, without thinking to put any thing away.
+
+Brownie screwed up his little old face and turned up his button of a
+nose, and gave a long whistle. You might not believe it, seeing he lived
+in a coal-cellar; but really he liked tidiness, and always played his
+pranks upon disorderly or slovenly folk.
+
+[Illustration: He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did
+eat!--Page 11]
+
+"Whew!" said he; "here's a chance. What a supper I'll get now!"
+
+And he jumped on to a chair and thence to the table, but so quietly that
+the large black cat with four white paws, called Muff, because she was
+so fat and soft and her fur so long, who sat dozing in front of the
+fire, just opened one eye and went to sleep again. She had tried to get
+her nose into the milk-jug, but it was too small; and the junket-dish
+was too deep for her to reach, except with one paw. She didn't care much
+for bread and cheese and apple-pudding, and was very well fed besides;
+so, after just wandering round the table, she had jumped down from it
+again, and settled herself to sleep on the hearth.
+
+But Brownie had no notion of going to sleep. He wanted his supper, and
+oh! what a supper he did eat! first one thing and then another, and then
+trying every thing all over again. And oh! what a lot he drank--first
+milk and then cider, and then mixed the two together in a way that would
+have disagreed with any body except a Brownie. As it was, he was obliged
+to slacken his belt several times, and at last took it off altogether.
+But he must have had a most extraordinary capacity for eating and
+drinking--since, after he had nearly cleared the table, he was just as
+lively as if he had had no supper at all.
+
+Now his jumping was a little awkward, for there happened to be a clean
+white tablecloth: as this was only Monday, it had had no time to get
+dirty--untidy as the Cook was. And you know Brownie lived in a
+coal-cellar, and his feet were black with running about in coal dust. So
+wherever he trod, he left the impression behind, until at last the whole
+tablecloth was covered with black marks.
+
+Not that he minded this; in fact, he took great pains to make the cloth
+as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, "Ho, ho, ho!" leaped on
+to the hearth, and began teasing the cat; squeaking like a mouse, or
+chirping like a cricket, or buzzing like a fly; and altogether
+disturbing poor Pussy's mind so much, that she went and hid herself in
+the farthest corner, and left him the hearth all to himself, where he
+lay at ease till daybreak.
+
+Then, hearing a slight noise overhead, which might be the servants
+getting up, he jumped on to the table again--gobbled up the few
+remaining crumbs for his breakfast, and scampered off to his
+coal-cellar; where he hid himself under his big coal, and fell asleep
+for the day.
+
+Well, the Cook came downstairs rather earlier than usual, for she
+remembered she had to clear off the remains of supper; but lo and
+behold, there was nothing left to clear. Every bit of food was eaten
+up--the cheese looked as if a dozen mice had been nibbling at it, and
+nibbled it down to the very rind; the milk and cider were all drunk--and
+mice don't care for milk and cider, you know. As for the apple-pudding,
+it had vanished altogether; and the dish was licked as clean as if
+Boxer, the yard-dog, had been at it in his hungriest mood.
+
+"And my white table-cloth--oh, my clean white table-cloth! What can have
+been done to it?" cried she, in amazement. For it was all over little
+black footmarks, just the size of a baby's foot--only babies don't wear
+shoes with nails in them, and don't run about and climb on kitchen
+tables after all the family have gone to bed.
+
+Cook was a little frightened; but her fright changed to anger when she
+saw the large black cat stretched comfortably on the hearth. Poor Muff
+had crept there for a little snooze after Brownie went away.
+
+"You nasty cat! I see it all now; it's you that have eaten up all the
+supper; it's you that have been on my clean table-cloth with your dirty
+paws."
+
+[Illustration: Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away]
+
+They were white paws, and as clean as possible; but the Cook never
+thought of that, any more than she did of the fact that cats don't
+usually drink cider or eat apple-pudding.
+
+"I'll teach you to come stealing food in this way; take that--and
+that--and that!"
+
+Cook got hold of a broom and beat poor Pussy till the creature ran
+mewing away. She couldn't speak, you know--unfortunate cat! and tell
+people that it was Brownie who had done it all.
+
+Next night Cook thought she would make all safe and sure; so, instead of
+letting the cat sleep by the fire, she shut her up in the chilly
+coal-cellar, locked the door, put the key in her pocket, and went off to
+bed--leaving the supper as before.
+
+When Brownie woke up and looked out of his hole, there was, as usual, no
+supper for him, and the cellar was close shut. He peered about, to try
+and find some cranny under the door to creep out at, but there was none.
+And he felt so hungry that he could almost have eaten the cat, who kept
+walking to and fro in a melancholy manner--only she was alive, and he
+couldn't well eat her alive: besides, he knew she was old, and had an
+idea she might be tough; so he merely said, politely, "How do you do,
+Mrs. Pussy?" to which she answered nothing--of course.
+
+Something must be done, and luckily Brownies can do things which nobody
+else can do. So he thought he would change himself into a mouse, and
+gnaw a hole through the door. But then he suddenly remembered the cat,
+who, though he had decided not to eat her, might take this opportunity
+of eating him. So he thought it advisable to wait till she was fast
+asleep, which did not happen for a good while. At length, quite tired
+with walking about, Pussy turned round on her tail six times, curled
+down in a corner, and fell fast asleep.
+
+Immediately Brownie changed himself into the smallest mouse possible;
+and, taking care not to make the least noise, gnawed a hole in the door,
+and squeezed himself through, immediately turning into his proper shape
+again, for fear of accidents.
+
+The kitchen fire was at its last glimmer; but it showed a better supper
+than even last night, for the Cook had had friends with her--a brother
+and two cousins--and they had been exceedingly merry. The food they had
+left behind was enough for three Brownies at least, but this one managed
+to eat it all up. Only once, in trying to cut a great slice of beef, he
+let the carving-knife and fork fall with such a clatter, that Tiny the
+terrier, who was tied up at the foot of the stairs, began to bark
+furiously. However, he brought her her puppy, which had been left in a
+basket in a corner of the kitchen, and so succeeded in quieting her.
+
+After that he enjoyed himself amazingly, and made more marks than ever
+on the white table-cloth; for he began jumping about like a pea on a
+trencher, in order to make his particularly large supper agree with him.
+
+Then, in the absence of the cat, he teased the puppy for an hour or two,
+till hearing the clock strike five, he thought it as well to turn into a
+mouse again, and creep back cautiously into his cellar. He was only just
+in time, for Muff opened one eye, and was just going to pounce upon him,
+when he changed himself back into a Brownie. She was so startled that
+she bounded away, her tail growing into twice its natural size, and her
+eyes gleaming like round green globes. But Brownie only said, "Ha, ha,
+ho!" and walked deliberately into his hole.
+
+When Cook came downstairs and saw that the same thing had happened
+again--that the supper was all eaten, and the table-cloth blacker than
+ever with the extraordinary footmarks, she was greatly puzzled. Who
+could have done it all? Not the cat, who came mewing out of the
+coal-cellar the minute she unlocked the door. Possibly a rat--but then
+would a rat have come within reach of Tiny?
+
+"It must have been Tiny herself, or her puppy," which just came rolling
+out of its basket over Cook's feet. "You little wretch! You and your
+mother are the greatest nuisance imaginable. I'll punish you!"
+
+And, quite forgetting that Tiny had been safely tied up all night, and
+that her poor little puppy was so fat and helpless it could scarcely
+stand on its legs, to say nothing of jumping on chairs and tables, she
+gave them both such a thrashing that they ran howling together out of
+the kitchen door, where the kind little kitchen-maid took them up in her
+arms.
+
+"You ought to have beaten the Brownie, if you could catch him," said
+she, in a whisper. "He will do it again and again, you'll see, for he
+can't bear an untidy kitchen. You'd better do as poor old Cook did, and
+clear the supper things away, and put the odds and ends safe in the
+larder; also," she added, mysteriously, "if I were you, I'd put a bowl
+of milk behind the coal-cellar door."
+
+"Nonsense!" answered the young Cook, and flounced away. But afterward
+she thought better of it, and did as she was advised, grumbling all the
+time, but doing it.
+
+Next morning the milk was gone! Perhaps Brownie had drunk it up, anyhow
+nobody could say that he hadn't. As for the supper, Cook having safely
+laid it on the shelves of the larder, nobody touched it. And the
+table-cloth, which was wrapped up tidily and put in the dresser drawer,
+came out as clean as ever, with not a single black footmark upon it. No
+mischief being done, the cat and the dog both escaped beating, and
+Brownie played no more tricks with any body--till the next time.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE SECOND
+
+BROWNIE AND THE CHERRY-TREE
+
+
+THE "next time" was quick in coming, which was not wonderful,
+considering there was a Brownie in the house. Otherwise the house was
+like most other houses, and the family like most other families. The
+children also: they were sometimes good, sometimes naughty, like other
+children; but, on the whole, they deserved to have the pleasure of a
+Brownie to play with them, as they declared he did--many and many a
+time.
+
+A favorite play-place was the orchard, where grew the biggest
+cherry-tree you ever saw. They called it their "castle," because it rose
+up ten feet from the ground in one thick stem, and then branched out
+into a circle of boughs, with a flat place in the middle, where two or
+three children could sit at once. There they often did sit, turn by
+turn, or one at a time--sometimes with a book, reading; and the biggest
+boy made a sort of rope-ladder by which they could climb up and
+down--which they did all winter, and enjoyed their "castle" very much.
+
+But one day in spring they found their ladder cut away! The Gardener
+had done it, saying it injured the tree, which was just coming into
+blossom. Now this Gardener was a rather gruff man, with a growling
+voice. He did not mean to be unkind, but he disliked children; he said
+they bothered him. But when they complained to their mother about the
+ladder, she agreed with Gardener that the tree must not be injured, as
+it bore the biggest cherries in all the neighborhood--so big that the
+old saying of "taking two bites at a cherry," came really true.
+
+"Wait till the cherries are ripe," said she; and so the little people
+waited, and watched it through its leafing and blossoming--such sheets
+of blossom, white as snow!--till the fruit began to show, and grew large
+and red on every bough.
+
+At last one morning the mother said, "Children, should you like to help
+gather the cherries to-day?"
+
+"Hurrah!" they cried, "and not a day too soon; for we saw a flock of
+starlings in the next field--and if we don't clear the tree, they will."
+
+"Very well; clear it, then. Only mind and fill my basket quite full, for
+preserving. What is over you may eat, if you like."
+
+"Thank you, thank you!" and the children were eager to be off; but the
+mother stopped them till she could get the Gardener and his ladder.
+
+"For it is he must climb the tree, not you; and you must do exactly as
+he tells you; and he will stop with you all the time and see that you
+don't come to harm."
+
+This was no slight cloud on the children's happiness, and they begged
+hard to go alone.
+
+"Please, might we? We will be so good!"
+
+[Illustration: When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the
+trunk of the cherry-tree]
+
+The mother shook her head. All the goodness in the world would not help
+them if they tumbled off the tree, or ate themselves sick with cherries.
+"You would not be safe, and I should be so unhappy!"
+
+To make mother "unhappy" was the worst rebuke possible to these
+children; so they choked down their disappointment, and followed the
+Gardener as he walked on ahead, carrying his ladder on his shoulder. He
+looked very cross, and as if he did not like the children's company at
+all.
+
+They were pretty good, on the whole, though they chattered a good deal;
+but Gardener said not a word to them all the way to the orchard. When
+they reached it, he just told them to "keep out of his way and not
+worrit him," which they politely promised, saying among themselves that
+they should not enjoy their cherry-gathering at all. But children who
+make the best of things, and try to be as good as they can, sometimes
+have fun unawares.
+
+When the Gardener was steadying his ladder against the trunk of the
+cherry-tree, there was suddenly heard the barking of a dog, and a very
+fierce dog, too. First it seemed close beside them, then in the
+flower-garden, then in the fowl-yard.
+
+Gardener dropped the ladder out of his hands. "It's that Boxer! He has
+got loose again! He will be running after my chickens, and dragging his
+broken chain all over my borders. And he is so fierce, and so delighted
+to get free. He'll bite any body who ties him up, except me."
+
+"Hadn't you better you go and see after him?"
+
+Gardener thought it was the eldest boy who spoke, and turned round
+angrily; but the little fellow had never opened his lips.
+
+Here there was heard a still louder bark, and from a quite different
+part of the garden.
+
+"There he is--I'm sure of it! jumping over my bedding-out plants, and
+breaking my cucumber frames. Abominable beast!--just let me catch him!"
+Off Gardener darted in a violent passion, throwing the ladder down upon
+the grass, and forgetting all about the cherries and the children.
+
+The instant he was gone, a shrill laugh, loud and merry, was heard close
+by, and a little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.
+
+"How d'ye do?--Boxer was me. Didn't I bark well? Now I'm come to play
+with you."
+
+The children clapped their hands; for they knew they were going to have
+some fun if Brownie was there--he was the best little playfellow in the
+world. And then they had him all to themselves. Nobody ever saw him
+except the children.
+
+"Come on!" cried he, in his shrill voice, half like an old man's, half
+like a baby's. "Who'll begin to gather the cherries?"
+
+[Illustration: A little brown old man's face peeped from behind the
+cherry-tree.--Page 20]
+
+They all looked blank; for the tree was so high to where the branches
+sprang, and besides, their mother had said they were not to climb. And
+the ladder lay flat upon the grass--far too heavy for little hands to
+move.
+
+"What! you big boys don't expect a poor little fellow like me to lift
+the ladder all by myself? Try! I'll help you."
+
+Whether he helped or not, no sooner had they taken hold of the ladder
+than it rose up, almost of its own accord, and fixed itself quite safely
+against the tree.
+
+"But we must not climb--mother told us not," said the boys, ruefully.
+"Mother said we were to stand at the bottom and pick up the cherries."
+
+"Very well. Obey your mother. I'll just run up the tree myself."
+
+Before the words were out of his mouth Brownie darted up the ladder like
+a monkey, and disappeared among the fruit-laden branches.
+
+The children looked dismayed for a minute, till they saw a merry brown
+face peeping out from the green leaves at the very top of the tree.
+
+"Biggest fruit always grows highest," cried the Brownie. "Stand in a
+row, all you children. Little boys, hold out your caps: little girls,
+make a bag of your pinafores. Open your mouths and shut your eyes, and
+see what the queen will send you."
+
+They laughed and did as they were told; whereupon they were drowned in a
+shower of cherries--cherries falling like hailstones, hitting them on
+their heads, their cheeks, their noses--filling their caps and
+pinafores, and then rolling and tumbling on to the grass, till it was
+strewn thick as leaves in autumn with the rosy fruit.
+
+What a glorious scramble they had--these three little boys and three
+little girls! How they laughed and jumped and knocked their heads
+together in picking up the cherries, yet never quarreled--for there were
+such heaps, it would have been ridiculous to squabble over them; and
+besides, whenever they began to quarrel, Brownie always ran away. Now he
+was the merriest of the lot; ran up and down the tree like a cat, helped
+to pick up the cherries, and was first-rate at filling the large
+market-basket.
+
+"We were to eat as many as we liked, only we must first fill the
+basket," conscientiously said the eldest girl; upon which they all set
+to at once, and filled it to the brim.
+
+"Now we'll have a dinner-party," cried the Brownie; and squatted down
+like a Turk, crossed his queer little legs, and sticking his elbows upon
+his knees, in a way that nobody but a Brownie could manage. "Sit in a
+ring! sit in a ring! and we'll see who can eat fastest."
+
+The children obeyed. How many cherries they devoured, and how fast they
+did it, passes my capacity of telling. I only hope they were not ill
+next day, and that all the cherry-stones they swallowed by mistake did
+not disagree with them. But perhaps nothing does disagree with one when
+one dines with a Brownie. They ate so much, laughing in equal
+proportion, that they had quite forgotten the Gardener--when, all of a
+sudden, they heard him clicking angrily the orchard gate, and talking to
+himself as he walked through.
+
+"That nasty dog! It wasn't Boxer, after all. A nice joke! to find him
+quietly asleep in his kennel after having hunted him, as I thought, from
+one end of the garden to the other! Now for the cherries and the
+children--bless us, where are the children? And the cherries? Why, the
+tree is as bare as a blackthorn in February! The starlings have been at
+it, after all. Oh dear! oh dear!"
+
+"Oh dear! oh dear!" echoed a voice from behind the tree, followed by
+shouts of mocking laughter. Not from the children--they sat as demure as
+possible, all in a ring, with their hands before them, and in the centre
+the huge basket of cherries, piled as full as it could possibly hold.
+But the Brownie had disappeared.
+
+"You naughty brats, I'll have you punished!" cried the Gardener, furious
+at the laughter, for he never laughed himself. But as there was nothing
+wrong; the cherries being gathered--a very large crop--and the ladder
+found safe in its place--it was difficult to say what had been the harm
+done and who had done it.
+
+So he went growling back to the house, carrying the cherries to the
+mistress, who coaxed him into good temper again, as she sometimes did;
+bidding also the children to behave well to him, since he was an old
+man, and not really bad--only cross. As for the little folks, she had
+not the slightest intention of punishing them; and, as for Brownie, it
+was impossible to catch him. So nobody was punished at all.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE THIRD
+
+BROWNIE IN THE FARMYARD
+
+
+WHICH was a place where he did not often go, for he preferred being warm
+and snug in the house. But when he felt himself ill-used, he would
+wander anywhere, in order to play tricks upon those whom he thought had
+done him harm; for, being only a Brownie, and not a man, he did not
+understand that the best way to revenge yourself upon your enemies is
+either to let them alone or to pay them back good for evil--it
+disappoints them so much, and makes them so exceedingly ashamed of
+themselves.
+
+One day Brownie overheard the Gardener advising the Cook to put sour
+milk into his bowl at night, instead of sweet.
+
+"He'd never find out the difference, no more than the pigs do. Indeed,
+it's my belief that a pig, or dog, or something, empties the bowl, and
+not a Brownie, at all. It's just clean waste--that's what I say."
+
+"Then you'd better hold your tongue, and mind your own business,"
+returned the Cook, who was of a sharp temper, and would not stand being
+meddled with. She began to abuse the Gardener soundly; but his wife, who
+was standing by, took his part, as she always did when any third party
+scolded him. So they all squabbled together, till Brownie, hid under his
+coal, put his little hands over his little ears.
+
+"Dear me, what a noise these mortals do make when they quarrel! They
+quite deafen me. I must teach them better manners."
+
+But when the Cook slammed the door to, and left Gardener and his wife
+alone, they too began to dispute between themselves.
+
+"You make such a fuss over your nasty pigs, and get all the scraps for
+them," said the wife. "It's of much more importance that I should have
+everything Cook can spare for my chickens. Never were such fine chickens
+as my last brood!"
+
+"I thought they were ducklings."
+
+"How you catch me up, you rude old man! They are ducklings, and
+beauties, too--even though they have never seen water. Where's the pond
+you promised to make for me, I wonder?"
+
+"Rubbish, woman! If my cows do without a pond, your ducklings may. And
+why will you be so silly as to rear ducklings at all? Fine fat chickens
+are a deal better. You'll find out your mistake some day."
+
+"And so will you when that old Alderney runs dry. You'll wish you had
+taken my advice, and fattened and sold her."
+
+"Alderney cows won't sell for fattening, and women's advice is never
+worth twopence. Yours isn't worth even a half-penny. What are you
+laughing at?"
+
+"I wasn't laughing," said the wife, angrily; and, in truth, it was not
+she, but little Brownie, running under the barrow which the Gardener was
+wheeling along, and very much amused that people should be so silly as
+to squabble about nothing.
+
+It was still early morning; for, whatever this old couple's faults might
+be, laziness was not one of them. The wife rose with the dawn to feed
+her poultry and collect her eggs; the husband also got through as much
+work by breakfast-time as many an idle man does by noon. But Brownie had
+been beforehand with them this day.
+
+When all the fowls came running to be fed, the big Brahma hen who had
+watched the ducklings was seen wandering forlornly about, and clucking
+mournfully for her young brood--she could not find them anywhere. Had
+she been able to speak, she might have told how a large white Aylesbury
+duck had waddled into the farmyard, and waddled out again, coaxing them
+after her, no doubt in search of a pond. But missing they were, most
+certainly.
+
+"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" mourned the miserable hen-mother--and, "Oh, my
+ducklings, my ducklings!" cried the Gardener's wife--"Who can have
+carried off my beautiful ducklings?"
+
+"Rats, maybe," said the Gardener, cruelly, as he walked away. And as he
+went he heard the squeak of a rat below his wheelbarrow. But he could
+not catch it, any more than his wife could catch the Aylesbury duck. Of
+course not. Both were--the Brownie!
+
+Just at this moment the six little people came running into the
+farmyard. When they had been particularly good, they were sometimes
+allowed to go with Gardener a-milking, each carrying his or her own mug
+for a drink of milk, warm from the cow. They scampered after him--a
+noisy tribe, begging to be taken down to the field, and holding out
+their six mugs entreatingly.
+
+"What! six cupfuls of milk, when I haven't a drop to spare, and Cook is
+always wanting more? Ridiculous nonsense! Get along with you; you may
+come to the field--I can't hinder that--but you'll get no milk to-day.
+Take your mugs back again to the kitchen."
+
+[Illustration: A noisy tribe, holding out their six mugs entreatingly.]
+
+The poor little folks made the best of a bad business, and obeyed; then
+followed Gardener down to the field, rather dolefully. But it was such a
+beautiful morning that they soon recovered their spirits. The grass
+shone with dew, like a sheet of diamonds, the clover smelled so sweet,
+and two skylarks were singing at one another high up in the sky. Several
+rabbits darted past, to their great amusement, especially one very large
+rabbit--brown, not gray--which dodged them in and out, and once nearly
+threw Gardener down, pail and all, by running across his feet; which set
+them all laughing, till they came where Dolly, the cow, lay chewing the
+cud under a large oak-tree.
+
+It was great fun to stir her up, as usual, and lie down, one after the
+other, in the place where she had lain all night long, making the grass
+flat, and warm, and perfumy with her sweet breath. She let them do it,
+and then stood meekly by; for Dolly was the gentlest cow in the world.
+
+But this morning something strange seemed to possess her. She altogether
+refused to be milked--kicked, plunged, tossed over the pail, which was
+luckily empty.
+
+"Bless the cow! what's wrong with her? It's surely you children's fault.
+Stand off, the whole lot of you. Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!"
+
+But Dolly was any thing but good. She stood switching her tail, and
+looking as savage as so mild an animal possibly could look.
+
+"It's all your doing, you naughty children! You have been playing her
+some trick, I know," cried the Gardener, in great wrath.
+
+They assured him they had done nothing, and indeed, they looked as quiet
+as mice and as innocent as lambs. At length the biggest boy pointed out
+a large wasp which had settled in Dolly's ear.
+
+"That accounts for everything," said the Gardener.
+
+But it did not mend everything; for when he tried to drive it away it
+kept coming back and back again, and buzzing round his own head and the
+cow's with a voice that the children thought was less like a buzz of a
+wasp than the sound of a person laughing. At length it frightened Dolly
+to such an extent that, with one wild bound she darted right away, and
+galloped off to the farther end of the field.
+
+"I'll get a rope and tie her legs together," cried the Gardener,
+fiercely. "She shall repent giving me all this trouble--that she shall!"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed somebody. The Gardener thought it was the
+children, and gave one of them an angry cuff as he walked away. But they
+knew it was somebody else, and were not at all surprised when, the
+minute his back was turned, Dolly came walking quietly back, led by a
+little wee brown man who scarcely reached up to her knees. Yet she let
+him guide her, which he did as gently as possible, though the string he
+held her by was no thicker than a spider web, floating from one of her
+horns.
+
+"Soh, Dolly! good Dolly!" cried Brownie, mimicking the Gardener's voice.
+"Now we'll see what we can do. I want my breakfast badly--don't you,
+little folks?"
+
+Of course they did, for the morning air made them very hungry.
+
+"Very well--wait a bit, though. Old people should be served first, you
+know. Besides, I want to go to bed."
+
+"Go to bed in the daylight!" The children all laughed, and then looked
+quite shy and sorry, lest they might have seemed rude to the little
+Brownie. But he--he liked fun; and never took offence when none was
+meant.
+
+He placed himself on the milking-stool, which was so high that his
+little legs were dangling half-way down, and milked and milked--Dolly
+standing as still as possible--till he had filled the whole pail. Most
+astonishing cow! she gave as much as two cows; and such delicious milk
+as it was--all frothing and yellow--richer than even Dolly's milk had
+ever been before. The children's mouths watered for it, but not a word
+said they--even when, instead of giving it to them, Brownie put his own
+mouth to the pail, and drank and drank, till it seemed as if he were
+never going to stop. But it was decidedly a relief to them when he
+popped his head up again, and lo! the pail was as full as ever!
+
+"Now, little ones, now's your turn. Where are your mugs?"
+
+All answered mournfully, "We've got none. Gardener made us take them
+back again."
+
+"Never mind--all right. Gather me half a dozen of the biggest buttercups
+you can find."
+
+"What nonsense!" thought the children; but they did it. Brownie laid the
+flowers in a row upon the eldest girl's lap--blew upon them one by one,
+and each turned into the most beautiful golden cup that ever was seen!
+
+"Now, then, every one take his own mug, and I'll fill it."
+
+He milked away--each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled
+again. And all the while Dolly stood as quiet as possible--looking
+benignly round, as if she would be happy to supply milk to the whole
+parish, if the Brownie desired it.
+
+"Soh, Dolly! Thank you, Dolly!" said he, again, mimicking the Gardener's
+voice, half growling, half coaxing. And while he spoke, the real voice
+was heard behind the hedge. There was a sound as of a great wasp flying
+away, which made Dolly prick up her ears, and look as if the old
+savageness was coming back upon her. The children snatched up their
+mugs, but there was no need, they had all turned into buttercups again.
+
+Gardener jumped over the stile, as cross as two sticks, with an old rope
+in his hand.
+
+"Oh, what a bother I've had! Breakfast ready, and no milk yet--and such
+a row as they are making over those lost ducklings. Stand back, you
+children, and don't hinder me a minute. No use begging--not a drop of
+milk shall you get. Hillo, Dolly? Quiet old girl!"
+
+Quiet enough she was this time--but you might as well have milked a
+plaster cow in a London milking-shop. Not one ringing drop resounded
+against the empty pail; for, when they peeped in, the children saw, to
+their amazement, that it was empty.
+
+[Illustration: Each child got a drink, and then the cups were filled
+again.--Page 32]
+
+"The creature's bewitched!" cried the Gardener, in a great fury. "Or
+else somebody has milked her dry already. Have you done it? or you?" he
+asked each of the children.
+
+They might have said No--which was the literal truth--but then it would
+not have been the whole truth, for they knew quite well that Dolly had
+been milked, and also who had done it. And their mother had always
+taught them that to make a person believe a lie is nearly as bad as
+telling him one. Yet still they did not like to betray the kind little
+Brownie. Greatly puzzled, they hung their heads and said nothing.
+
+"Look in your pail again," cried a voice from the other side of Dolly.
+And there at the bottom was just the usual quantity of milk--no more and
+no less.
+
+The Gardener was very much astonished. "It must be the Brownie!"
+muttered he, in a frightened tone; and, taking off his hat, "Thank you,
+sir," said he to Mr. Nobody--at which the children all burst out
+laughing. But they kept their own counsel, and he was afraid to ask them
+any more questions.
+
+By-and-by his fright wore off a little. "I only hope the milk is good
+milk, and will poison nobody," said he, sulkily. "However, that's not my
+affair. You children had better tell your mother all about it. I left
+her in the farmyard in a pretty state of mind about her ducklings."
+
+Perhaps Brownie heard this, and was sorry, for he liked the children's
+mother, who had always been kind to him. Besides, he never did any body
+harm who did not deserve it; and though, being a Brownie, he could
+hardly be said to have a conscience, he had something which stood in the
+place of one--a liking to see people happy rather than miserable.
+
+So, instead of going to bed under his big coal for the day, when, after
+breakfast, the children and their mother came out to look at a new brood
+of chickens, he crept after them and hid behind the hencoop where the
+old mother-hen was put, with her young ones round her.
+
+There had been great difficulty in getting her in there, for she was a
+hen who hatched her brood on independent principles. Instead of sitting
+upon the nice nest that the Gardener made for her, she had twice gone
+into a little wood close by and made a nest for herself, which nobody
+could ever find; and where she hatched in secret, coming every second
+day to be fed, and then vanishing again, till at last she re-appeared in
+triumph, with her chickens running after her. The first brood there had
+been twelve, but of this there were fourteen--all from her own eggs, of
+course, and she was uncommonly proud of them. So was the Gardener, so
+was the mistress--who liked all young things. Such a picture as they
+were! fourteen soft, yellow, fluffy things, running about after their
+mother. It had been a most troublesome business to catch--first her, and
+then them, to put them under the coop. The old hen resisted, and pecked
+furiously at Gardener's legs, and the chickens ran about in frantic
+terror, chirping wildly in answer to her clucking.
+
+At last, however, the little family was safe in shelter, and the
+chickens counted over, to see that none had been lost in the scuffle.
+How funny they were! looking so innocent and yet so wise, as chickens
+do--peering out at the world from under their mother's wing, or hopping
+over her back, or snuggled all together under her breast, so that
+nothing was seen of them but a mass of yellow legs, like a great
+centiped.
+
+"How happy the old hen is," said the children's mother, looking on, and
+then looking compassionately at that other forlorn old hen, who had
+hatched the ducklings, and kept wandering about the farmyard, clucking
+miserably, "Those poor ducklings, what can have become of them? If rats
+had killed them, we should have found feathers or something; and weasels
+would have sucked their brains and left them. They must have been
+stolen, or wandered away, and died of cold and hunger--my poor
+ducklings!"
+
+The mistress sighed, for she could not bear any living thing to suffer.
+And the children nearly cried at the thought of what might be happening
+to their pretty ducklings. That very minute a little wee brown face
+peered through a hole in the hencoop, making the old mother-hen fly
+furiously at it--as she did at the slightest shadow of an enemy to her
+little ones. However, no harm happened--only a guinea-fowl suddenly ran
+across the farmyard, screaming in its usual harsh voice. But it was not
+the usual sort of guinea-fowl, being larger and handsomer than any of
+theirs.
+
+"Oh, what a beauty of a creature! how did it ever come into our
+farmyard," cried the delighted children; and started off after it, to
+catch it if possible.
+
+But they ran, and they ran--through the gate and out into the lane; and
+the guinea-fowl still ran on before them, until, turning round a corner,
+they lost sight of it, and immediately saw something else, equally
+curious. Sitting on the top of a big thistle--so big that he must have
+had to climb it just like a tree--was the Brownie. His legs were
+crossed, and his arms too, his little brown cap was stuck knowingly on
+one side, and he was laughing heartily.
+
+"How do you do? Here I am again. I thought I wouldn't go to bed after
+all. Shall I help you to find the ducklings? Very well! come along."
+
+They crossed the field, Brownie running beside them, and as fast as they
+could, though he looked such an old man; and sometimes turning over on
+legs and arms like a Catherine wheel--which they tried to imitate, but
+generally failed, and only bruised their fingers and noses.
+
+He lured them on and on till they came to the wood, and to a green path
+in it, which well as they knew the neighborhood, none of the children
+had ever seen before. It led to a most beautiful pond, as clear as
+crystal and as blue as the sky. Large trees grew round it, dipping their
+branches in the water, as if they were looking at themselves in a glass.
+And all about their roots were quantities of primroses--the biggest
+primroses the little girls had ever seen. Down they dropped on their fat
+knees, squashing more primroses than they gathered, though they tried to
+gather them all; and the smallest child even began to cry because her
+hands were so full that the flowers dropped through her fingers. But the
+boys, older and more practical, rather despised primroses.
+
+"I thought we had come to look for ducklings," said the eldest. "Mother
+is fretting dreadfully about her ducklings. Where can they be?"
+
+"Shut your eyes, and you'll see," said the Brownie, at which they all
+laughed, but did it; and when they opened their eyes again, what should
+they behold but a whole fleet of ducklings sailing out from the roots of
+an old willow-tree, one after the other, looking as fat and content as
+possible, and swimming as naturally as if they had lived on a pond--and
+this particularly pond, all their days.
+
+"Count them," said the Brownie, "the whole eight--quite correct. And
+then try and catch them--if you can."
+
+Easier said than done. The boys set to work with great
+satisfaction--boys do so enjoy hunting something. They coaxed them--they
+shouted at them--they threw little sticks at them; but as soon as they
+wanted them to go one way the fleet of ducklings immediately turned
+round and sailed another way, doing it so deliberately and majestically,
+that the children could not help laughing. As for little Brownie, he sat
+on a branch of the willow-tree, with his legs dangling down to the
+surface of the pond, kicking at the water-spiders, and grinning with all
+his might. At length, quite tired out, in spite of their fun, the
+children begged for his help, and he took compassion on them.
+
+"Turn round three times and see what you can find," shouted he.
+
+Immediately each little boy found in his arms, and each little girl in
+her pinafore, a fine fat duckling. And there being eight of them, the
+two elder children had each a couple. They were rather cold and damp,
+and slightly uncomfortable to cuddle, ducks not being used to cuddling.
+Poor things! they struggled hard to get away. But the children hugged
+them tight, and ran as fast as their legs could carry them through the
+wood, forgetting, in their joy, even to say "Thank you" to the little
+Brownie.
+
+When they reached their mother she was as glad as they, for she never
+thought to see her ducklings again; and to have them back alive and
+uninjured, and watch them running to the old hen, who received them with
+an ecstasy of delight, was so exciting, that nobody thought of asking a
+single question as to where they had been found.
+
+When the mother did ask, the children told her about Brownie's taking
+them to the beautiful pond--and what a wonderful pond it was; how green
+the trees were round it; and how large the primroses grew. They never
+tired of talking about it and seeking for it. But the odd thing was
+that, seek as they might, they never could find it again. Many a day did
+the little people roam about one by one, or all together, round the
+wood, often getting themselves sadly draggled with mud and torn with
+brambles--but the beautiful pond they never found again.
+
+Nor did the ducklings, I suppose; for they wandered no more from the
+farmyard, to the old mother-hen's great content. They grew up into fat
+and respectable ducks--five white ones and three gray ones--waddling
+about, very content, though they never saw water, except the tank which
+was placed for them to paddle in. They lived a lazy, peaceful, pleasant
+life for a long time, and were at last killed and eaten with green peas,
+one after the other, to the family's great satisfaction, if not to their
+own.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FOURTH
+
+BROWNIE'S RIDE
+
+
+FOR the little Brownie, though not given to horsemanship, did once take
+a ride, and a very remarkable one it was. Shall I tell you all about it?
+
+The six little children got a present of something they had longed for
+all their lives--a pony. Not a rocking-horse, but a real live pony--a
+Shetland pony, too, which had traveled all the way from the Shetland
+Isles to Devonshire--where every body wondered at it, for such a
+creature had not been seen in the neighborhood for years and years. She
+was no bigger than a donkey, and her coat, instead of being smooth like
+a horse's, was shaggy like a young bear's. She had a long tail, which
+had never been cut, and such a deal of hair in her mane and over her
+eyes that it gave her quite a fierce countenance. In fact, among the
+mild and tame Devonshire beasts, the little Shetland pony looked almost
+like a wild animal. But in reality she was the gentlest creature in the
+world. Before she had been many days with them, she began to know the
+children quite well; followed them about, ate corn out of the bowl they
+held out to her; nay, one day, when the eldest little girl offered her
+bread-and-butter, she stooped her head and took it from the child's
+hand, just like a young lady. Indeed, Jess--that was her name--was
+altogether so lady-like in her behavior, that more than once Cook
+allowed her to walk in at the back-door, when she stood politely warming
+her nose at the kitchen-fire for a minute or two, then turned round and
+as politely walked out again. But she never did any mischief; and was so
+quiet and gentle a creature that she bade fair soon to become as great a
+pet in the household as the dog, the cat, the kittens, the puppies, the
+fowls, the ducks, the cow, the pig, and all the other members of the
+family.
+
+The only one who disliked her, and grumbled at her, was the Gardener.
+This was odd; because, though cross to children, the old man was kind to
+dumb beasts. Even his pig knew his voice and grunted, and held out his
+nose to be scratched; and he always gave each successive pig a name,
+Jack or Dick, and called them by it, and was quite affectionate to them,
+one after the other, until the very day that they were killed. But they
+were English pigs--and the pony was Scotch--and the Devonshire Gardener
+hated every thing Scotch, he said; besides, he was not used to groom's
+work, and the pony required such a deal of grooming on account of her
+long hair. More than once Gardener threatened to clip it short, and turn
+her into a regular English pony, but the children were in such distress
+and mother forbade any such spoiling of Jessie's personal appearance.
+
+At length, to keep things smooth, and to avoid the rough words and even
+blows which poor Jess sometimes got, they sought in the village for a
+boy to look after her, and found a great rough, shock-headed lad named
+Bill, who, for a few shillings a week, consented to come up every
+morning and learn the beginning of a groom's business; hoping to end, as
+his mother said he should, in sitting, like the squire's fat coachman,
+as broad as he was long, on the top of the hammer-cloth of a grand
+carriage, and do nothing all day but drive a pair of horses as stout as
+himself a few miles along the road and back again.
+
+Bill would have liked this very much, he thought, if he could have been
+a coachman all at once, for if there was one thing he disliked, it was
+work. He much preferred to lie in the sun all day and do nothing; and he
+only agreed to come and take care of Jess because she was such a very
+little pony, that looking after her seemed next door to doing nothing.
+But when he tried it, he found his mistake. True, Jess was a very gentle
+beast, so quiet that the old mother-hen with fourteen chicks used,
+instead of roosting with the rest of the fowls, to come regularly into
+the portion of the cow-shed which was partitioned off for a stable, and
+settle under a corner of Jess's manger for the night; and in the morning
+the chicks would be seen running about fearlessly among her feet and
+under her very nose.
+
+But, for all that, she required a little management, for she did not
+like her long hair to be roughly handled; it took a long time to clean
+her; and, though she did not scream out like some silly little children
+when her hair was combed, I am afraid she sometimes kicked and bounced
+about, giving Bill a deal of trouble--all the more trouble, the more
+impatient Bill was.
+
+And then he had to keep within call, for the children wanted their pony
+at all hours. She was their own especial property, and they insisted
+upon learning to ride--even before they got a saddle. Hard work it was
+to stick on Jess's bare back, but by degrees the boys did it, turn and
+turn about, and even gave their sisters a turn too--a very little
+one--just once round the field and back again, which was quite enough,
+they considered, for girls. But they were very kind to their little
+sisters, held them on so that they could not fall, and led Jess
+carefully and quietly: and altogether behaved as elder brothers should.
+
+Nor did they squabble very much among themselves, though sometimes it
+was rather difficult to keep their turns all fair, and remember
+accurately which was which. But they did their best, being, on the
+whole, extremely good children. And they were so happy to have their
+pony, that they would have been ashamed to quarrel over her.
+
+Also, one very curious thing kept them on their good behavior. Whenever
+they did begin to misconduct themselves--to want to ride out of their
+turns, or to domineer over one another, or the boys, joining together,
+tried to domineer over the girls, as I grieve to say boys not seldom
+do--they used to hear in the air, right over their heads, the crack of
+an unseen whip. It was none of theirs, for they had not got a whip; that
+was a felicity which their father had promised when they could all ride
+like a young gentleman and ladies; but there was no mistaking the
+sound--indeed, it always startled Jess so that she set off galloping,
+and could not be caught again for many minutes.
+
+This happened several times, until one of them said, "Perhaps it's the
+Brownie." Whether it was or not, it made them behave better for a good
+while; till one unfortunate day the two eldest began contending which
+should ride foremost and which hindmost on Jess's back, when
+"Crick--crack!" went the whip in the air, frightening the pony so much
+that she kicked up her heels, tossed both the boys over her head, and
+scampered off, followed by a loud "Ha, ha, ha!"
+
+It certainly did not come from the two boys, who had fallen--quite
+safely, but rather unpleasantly--into a large nettle-bed; whence they
+crawled out, rubbing their arms and legs, and looking too much ashamed
+to complain. But they were rather frightened and a little cross, for
+Jess took a skittish fit, and refused to be caught and mounted again,
+till the bell rang for school--when she grew as meek as possible. Too
+late--for the children were obliged to run indoors, and got no more
+rides for the whole day.
+
+Jess was from this incident supposed to be on the same friendly terms
+with Brownie as were the rest of the household. Indeed, when she came,
+the children had taken care to lead her up to the coal-cellar door and
+introduce her properly--for they knew Brownie was very jealous of
+strangers, and often played them tricks. But after that piece of
+civility he would be sure, they thought, to take her under his
+protection. And sometimes, when the little Shetlander was restless and
+pricked up her ears, looking preternaturally wise under those shaggy
+brows of hers, the children used to say to one another, "Perhaps she
+sees the Brownie."
+
+Whether she did or not, Jess sometimes seemed to see a good deal that
+others did not see, and was apparently a favorite with the Brownie, for
+she grew and thrived so much that she soon became the pride and delight
+of the children and of the whole family. You would hardly have known her
+for the rough, shaggy, half-starved little beast that had arrived a few
+weeks before. Her coat was so silky, her limbs so graceful, and her head
+so full of intelligence, that every body admired her. Then even Gardener
+began to admire her too.
+
+"I think I'll get upon her back; it will save me walking down to the
+village," said he, one day. And she actually carried him--though, as his
+feet nearly touched the ground, it looked as if the man were carrying
+the pony, and not the pony the man. And the children laughed so
+immoderately, that he never tried it afterward.
+
+Nor Bill neither, though he had once thought he should like a ride, and
+got astride on Jess; but she quickly ducked her head down, and he
+tumbled over it. Evidently she had her own tastes as to her riders, and
+much preferred little people to big ones.
+
+Pretty Jess! when cantering round the paddock with the young folk she
+really was quite a picture. And when at last she got a saddle--a new,
+beautiful saddle, with a pommel to take off and on, so as to suit both
+boys and girls--how proud they all were, Jess included! That day they
+were allowed to take her into the market-town--Gardener leading her, as
+Bill could not be trusted--and every body, even the blacksmith, who
+hoped by-and-by to have the pleasure of shoeing her, said, what a
+beautiful pony she was!
+
+After this, Gardener treated Jess a great deal better, and showed Bill
+how to groom her, and kept him close at it too, which Bill did not like
+at all. He was a very lazy lad, and whenever he could shirk work he did
+it; and many a time when the children wanted Jess, either there was
+nobody to saddle her, or she had not been properly groomed, or Bill was
+away at his dinner, and they had to wait till he came back and could put
+her in order to be taken out for a ride like a genteel animal--which I
+am afraid neither pony nor children enjoyed half so much as the old ways
+before Bill came.
+
+Still, they were gradually becoming excellent little horsemen and
+horsewomen--even the youngest, only four years old, whom all the rest
+were very tender over, and who was often held on Jess's back and given a
+ride out of her turn because she was a good little girl, and never cried
+for it. And seldomer and seldomer was heard the mysterious sound of the
+whip in the air, which warned them of quarreling--Brownie hated
+quarreling.
+
+[Illustration: Jess quickly ducked her head down and Bill tumbled over
+it.]
+
+In fact, their only trouble was Bill, who never came to his work in
+time, and never did things when wanted, and was ill-natured, lazy, and
+cross to the children, so that they disliked him very much.
+
+"I wish the Brownie would punish you," said one of the boys; "you'd
+behave better then."
+
+"The Brownie!" cried Bill, contemptuously; "if I caught him, I'd kick
+him up in the air like this!"
+
+And he kicked up his cap--his only cap, it was--which, strange to
+relate, flew right up, ever so high, and lodged at the very top of a
+tree which overhung the stable, where it dangled for weeks and weeks,
+during which time poor Bill had to go bareheaded.
+
+He was very much vexed, and revenged himself by vexing the children in
+all sorts of ways. They would have told their mother, and asked her to
+send Bill away, only she had a great many anxieties just then, for their
+old grandmother was very ill, and they did not like to make a fuss about
+any thing that would trouble her.
+
+So Bill staid on, and nobody found out what a bad, ill-natured, lazy boy
+he was.
+
+But one day the mother was sent for suddenly, not knowing when she
+should be able to come home again. She was very sad, and so were the
+children, for they loved their grandmother--and as the carriage drove
+off they all stood crying round the front-door for ever so long.
+
+The servants even cried too--all but Bill.
+
+"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said he. "What a jolly time I
+shall have! I'll do nothing all day long. Those troublesome children
+sha'n't have Jess to ride; I'll keep her in the stable, and then she
+won't get dirty, and I shall have no trouble in cleaning her. Hurrah!
+what fun!"
+
+He put his hands in his pockets, and sat whistling the best part of the
+afternoon.
+
+The children had been so unhappy, that for that day they quite forgot
+Jess; but next morning, after lessons were over, they came begging for a
+ride.
+
+"You can't get one. The stable-door's locked and I've lost the key." (He
+had it in his pocket all the time.)
+
+"How is poor Jess to get her dinner?" cried a thoughtful little girl.
+"Oh, how hungry she will be!"
+
+And the child was quite in distress, as were the two other girls. But
+the boys were more angry than sorry.
+
+"It was very stupid of you, Bill, to lose the key. Look about and find
+it, or else break open the door."
+
+"I won't," said Bill; "I dare say the key will turn up before night, and
+if it doesn't, who cares? You get riding enough and too much. I'll not
+bother myself about it, or Jess either."
+
+And Bill sauntered away. He was a big fellow, and the little lads were
+rather afraid of him. But as he walked, he could not keep his hand out
+of his trowsers-pocket, where the key felt growing heavier and heavier,
+till he expected it every minute to tumble through and come out at his
+boots--convicting him before all the children of having told a lie.
+
+Nobody was in the habit of telling lies to them, so they never suspected
+him, but went innocently searching about for the key--Bill all the while
+clutching it fast. But every time he touched it, he felt his fingers
+pinched, as if there was a cockroach in his pocket--or little
+lobster--or something, anyhow, that had claws. At last, fairly
+frightened, he made an excuse to go into the cow-shed, took the key out
+of his pocket and looked at it, and finally hid it in a corner of the
+manger, among the hay.
+
+As he did so, he heard a most extraordinary laugh, which was certainly
+not from Dolly the cow, and, as he went out of the shed, he felt the
+same sort of pinch at his ankles, which made him so angry that he kept
+striking with his whip in all directions, but hit nobody for nobody was
+there.
+
+But Jess--who, as soon as she heard the children's voices, set up a most
+melancholy whinnying behind the locked stable-door--began to neigh
+energetically. And Boxer barked, and the hens cackled, and the
+guinea-fowls cried "Come back, come back!" in their usual insane
+fashion--indeed, the whole farmyard seemed in such an excited state,
+that the children got frightened lest Gardener should scold them, and
+ran away, leaving Bill master of the field.
+
+What an idle day he had! How he sat on the wall with his hands in his
+pockets, and lounged upon the fence, and sauntered around the garden! At
+length, absolutely tired of doing nothing, he went and talked with the
+Gardener's wife while she was hanging out her clothes. Gardener had gone
+down to the lower field, with all the little folks after him, so that he
+knew nothing of Bill's idling, or it might have come to an end.
+
+By-and-by Bill thought it was time to go home to his supper. "But first
+I'll give Jess her corn," said he, "double quantity, and then I need not
+come back to give her her breakfast so early in the morning. Soh! you
+greedy beast! I'll be at you presently, if you don't stop that noise."
+
+For Jess, at sound of his footsteps, was heard to whinny in the most
+imploring manner, enough to have melted a heart of stone.
+
+"The key--where on earth did I put the key?" cried Bill, whose constant
+habit it was to lay things out of his hand and then forget where he had
+put them, causing himself endless loss of time in searching for them--as
+now. At last he suddenly remembered the corner of the cow's manger,
+where he felt sure he had left it. But the key was not there.
+
+"You can't have eaten it, you silly old cow," said he, striking Dolly on
+the nose as she rubbed herself against him--she was an affectionate
+beast. "Nor you, you stupid old hen!" kicking the mother of the brood,
+who, with her fourteen chicks, being shut out of their usual
+roosting-place--Jess's stable--kept pecking about under Dolly's legs.
+"It can't have gone without hands--of course it can't." But most
+certainly the key was gone.
+
+What in the world should Bill do? Jess kept on making a pitiful
+complaining. No wonder, as she had not tasted food since morning. It
+would have made any kind-hearted person quite sad to hear her, thinking
+how exceedingly hungry the poor pony must be.
+
+Little did Bill care for that, or for anything, except that he should be
+sure to get into trouble as soon as he was found out. When he heard
+Gardener coming into the farmyard, with the children after him, Bill
+bolted over the wall like a flash of lightning, and ran away home,
+leaving poor Jess to her fate.
+
+All the way he seemed to hear at his heels a little dog yelping, and
+then a swarm of gnats buzzing round his head, and altogether was so
+perplexed and bewildered, that when he got into his mother's cottage he
+escaped into bed, and pulled the blanket over his ears to shut out the
+noise of the dog and the gnats, which at last turned into a sound like
+somebody laughing. It was not his mother, she didn't often laugh, poor
+soul!--Bill bothered her quite too much for that, and he knew it.
+Dreadfully frightened, he hid his head under the bedclothes, determined
+to go to sleep and think about nothing till next day.
+
+Meantime Gardener returned, with all the little people trooping after
+him. He had been rather kinder to them than usual this day, because he
+knew their mother had gone away in trouble, and now he let them help him
+to roll the gravel, and fetch up Dolly to be milked, and watch him milk
+her in the cow-shed--where, it being nearly winter, she always spent the
+night now. They were so well amused that they forgot all about their
+disappointment as to the ride, and Jess did not remind them of it by
+her whinnying. For as soon as Bill was gone she grew silent.
+
+At last one little girl, the one who had cried over Jess's being left
+hungry, remembered the poor pony, and, peeping through a crevice in the
+cow-shed, saw her stand contentedly munching at a large bowlful of corn.
+
+"So Bill did find the key. I'm very glad," thought the kind little
+maiden, and to make sure looked again, when--what do you think she
+beheld squatting on the manger? Something brown--either a large brown
+rat, or a small brown man. But she held her tongue, since, being a very
+little girl, people sometimes laughed at her for the strange things she
+saw. She was quite certain she did see them, for all that.
+
+So she and the rest of the children went indoors and to bed. When they
+were fast asleep, something happened. Something so curious, that the
+youngest boy, who, thinking he heard Jess neighing, got up to look out,
+was afraid to tell, lest he too should be laughed at, and went back to
+bed immediately.
+
+In the middle of the night, a little old brown man carrying a lantern,
+or at least having a light in his hand that looked like a lantern--went
+and unlocked Jess's stable, and patted her pretty head. At first she
+started, but soon she grew quiet and pleased, and let him do what he
+chose with her. He began rubbing her down, making the same funny hissing
+with his mouth that Bill did, and all grooms do--I never could find out
+why. But Jess evidently liked it, and stood as good as possible.
+
+[Illustration: Up the bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping.--Page
+55]
+
+"Isn't it nice to be clean?" said the wee man, talking to her as if she
+were a human being, or a Brownie. "And I dare say your poor little
+legs ache with standing so long. Shall we have a run together? the moon
+shines bright in the clear, cold night. Dear me! I'm talking poetry."
+
+But Brownies are not poetical fairies, quite commonplace, and up to all
+sorts of work. So, while he talked, he was saddling and bridling Jess,
+she not objecting in the least. Finally, he jumped on her back.
+
+"'Off, said the stranger--off, off, and away!'" sang Brownie mimicking a
+song of the Cook's. People in that house often heard their songs
+repeated in the oddest way, from room to room, everybody fancying it was
+somebody else that did it. But it was only the Brownie. "Now, 'A
+southerly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim a hunting morning!'"
+
+Or night--for it was the middle of the night, though bright as day--and
+Jess galloped and the Brownie sat on her back as merrily as if they had
+gone hunting together all their days.
+
+Such a steeple-chase it was! They cleared the farmyard at a single
+bound, and went flying down the road, and across the ploughed field, and
+into the wood. Then out into the open country, and by-and-by into a
+dark, muddy lane--and oh! how muddy Devonshire lanes can be sometimes!
+
+"Let's go into the water to wash ourselves," said Brownie, and coaxed
+Jess into a deep stream, which she swam as bravely as possible--she had
+not had such a frolic since she left her native Shetland Isles. Up the
+bank she scrambled, her long hair dripping as if she had been a
+water-dog instead of a pony. Brownie, too, shook himself like a rat or a
+beaver, throwing a shower round him in all directions.
+
+"Never mind; at it again, my lass!" and he urged Jess into the water
+once more. Out she came, wetter and brisker than ever, and went back
+home again through the lane, and the wood, and the ploughed field,
+galloping like the wind, and tossing back her ears and mane and tail,
+perfectly frantic with enjoyment.
+
+But when she reached her stable, the plight she was in would have driven
+any respectable groom frantic too. Her sides were white with foam, and
+the mud was sticking all over her like a plaster. As for her beautiful
+long hair, it was all caked together in a tangle, as if all the combs in
+the world would never make it smooth again. Her mane especially was
+plaited into knots, which people in Devonshire call elf-locks, and say,
+when they find them on their horses, that it is because the fairies have
+been riding them.
+
+Certainly, poor Jess had been pretty well ridden that night. When just
+as the dawn began to break, Gardener got up and looked into the
+farmyard, his sharp eye caught sight of the stable-door wide open.
+
+"Well done, Bill," shouted he, "up early at last. One hour before
+breakfast is worth three after."
+
+But no Bill was there; only Jess, trembling and shaking, all in a foam,
+and muddy from head to foot, but looking perfectly cheerful in her mind.
+And out from under her fore legs ran a small creature which Gardener
+mistook for Tiny, only Tiny was gray, and this dog was brown, of course!
+
+I should not like to tell you all that was said to Bill when, an hour
+after breakfast-time, he came skulking up to the farm. In fact, words
+failing, Gardener took a good stick and laid it about Bill's shoulders,
+saying he would either do this, or tell the mistress of him, and how he
+had left the stable-door open all night, and some bad fellow had stolen
+Jess, and galloped her all across the country, till, if she hadn't been
+the cleverest pony in the world, she never could have got back again.
+
+Bill durst not contradict this explanation of the story, especially as
+the key was found hanging up in its proper place by the kitchen door.
+And when he went to fetch it, he heard the most extraordinary sound in
+the coal-cellar close by--like somebody snoring or laughing. Bill took
+to his heels, and did not come back for a whole hour.
+
+But when he did come back, he made himself as busy as possible. He
+cleaned Jess, which was half a day's work at least. Then he took the
+little people a ride, and afterward put his stable in the most beautiful
+order, and altogether was such a changed Bill, that Gardener told him he
+must have left himself at home and brought back somebody else: whether
+or not, the boy certainly improved, so that there was less occasion to
+find fault with him afterward.
+
+Jess lived to be quite an old pony, and carried a great many
+people--little people always, for she herself never grew any bigger. But
+I don't think she ever carried a Brownie again.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE FIFTH
+
+BROWNIE ON THE ICE
+
+
+WINTER was a grand time with the six little children especially when
+they had frost and snow. This happened seldom enough for it to be the
+greatest possible treat when it did happen; and it never lasted very
+long, for the winters are warm in Devonshire.
+
+There was a little lake three fields off, which made the most splendid
+sliding-place imaginable. No skaters went near it--it was not large
+enough; and besides, there was nobody to skate, the neighborhood being
+lonely. The lake itself looked the loneliest place imaginable. It was
+not very deep--not deep enough to drown a man--but it had a gravelly
+bottom, and was always very clear. Also, the trees round it grew so
+thick that they sheltered it completely from the wind, so, when it did
+freeze, it generally froze as smooth as a sheet of glass.
+
+"The lake bears!" was such a grand event, and so rare, that when it did
+occur, the news came at once to the farm, and the children carried it as
+quickly to their mother. For she had promised them that, if such a
+thing did happen this year--it did not happen every year--lessons should
+be stopped entirely, and they should all go down to the lake and slide,
+if they liked, all day long.
+
+So one morning, just before Christmas, the eldest boy ran in with a
+countenance of great delight.
+
+"Mother, mother, the lake bears!" (It was rather a compliment to call it
+a lake, it being only about twenty yards across and forty long.) "The
+lake really bears!"
+
+"Who says so?"
+
+"Bill. Bill has been on it for an hour this morning, and has made us two
+such beautiful slides, he says--an upslide and a down-slide. May we go
+directly?"
+
+The mother hesitated.
+
+"You promised, you know," pleaded the children.
+
+"Very well, then; only be careful."
+
+"And may we slide all day long, and never come home for dinner or any
+thing?"
+
+"Yes, if you like. Only Gardener must go with you, and stay all day."
+
+This they did not like at all; nor, when Gardener was spoken to, did he.
+
+"You bothering children! I wish you may all get a good ducking in the
+lake! Serve you right for making me lose a day's work, just to look
+after you little monkeys. I've a great mind to tell your mother I won't
+do it."
+
+But he did not, being fond of his mistress. He was also fond of his
+work, but he had no notion of play. I think the saying of, "All work and
+no play makes Jack a dull boy," must have been applied to him, for
+Gardener, whatever he had been as a boy, was certainly a dull and
+melancholy man. The children used to say that if he and idle Bill could
+have been kneaded into one, and baked in the oven--a very warm
+oven--they would have come out rather a pleasant person.
+
+As it was, Gardener was any thing but a pleasant person; above all, to
+spend a long day with, and on the ice, where one needs all one's
+cheerfulness and good-humor to bear pinched fingers and numbed toes, and
+trips and tumbles, and various uncomfortablenesses.
+
+"He'll growl at us all day long--he'll be a regular spoil-sport!"
+lamented the children. "Oh! mother, mightn't we go alone?"
+
+"No!" said the mother; and her "No" meant no, though she was always very
+kind. They argued the point no more, but started off, rather
+downhearted. But soon they regained their spirits, for it was a bright,
+clear, frosty day--the sun shining, though not enough to melt the ice,
+and just sufficient to lie like a thin sprinkling over the grass, and
+turn the brown branches into white ones. The little people danced along
+to keep themselves warm, carrying between them a basket which held their
+lunch. A very harmless lunch it was--just a large brown loaf and a lump
+of cheese, and a knife to cut it with. Tossing the basket about in their
+fun, they managed to tumble the knife out, and were having a search for
+it in the long grass, when Gardener came up, grumpily enough.
+
+"To think of trusting you children with one of the table-knives and a
+basket! what a fool Cook must be! I'll tell her so; and if they're lost
+she'll blame me: give me the things."
+
+He put the knife angrily in one pocket. "Perhaps it will cut a hole in
+it," said one of the children, in rather a pleased tone than otherwise;
+then he turned the lunch all out on the grass and crammed it in the
+other pocket, hiding the basket behind a hedge.
+
+"I'm sure I'll not be at the trouble of carrying it," said he, when the
+children cried out at this; "and you shan't carry it either, for you'll
+knock it about and spoil it. And as for your lunch getting warm in my
+pocket, why, so much the better this cold day."
+
+It was not a lively joke, and they knew the pocket was very dirty;
+indeed, the little girls had seen him stuff a dead rat into it only the
+day before. They looked ready to cry; but there was no help for them,
+except going back and complaining to their mother, and they did not like
+to do that. Besides, they knew that, though Gardener was cross, he was
+trustworthy, and she would never let them go down to the lake without
+him.
+
+So they followed him, trying to be as good as they could--though it was
+difficult work. One of them proposed pelting him with snowballs, as they
+pelted each other. But at the first--which fell in his neck--he turned
+round so furiously, that they never sent a second, but walked behind him
+as meek as mice.
+
+As they went, they heard little steps pattering after them.
+
+"Perhaps it is the Brownie to play with us--I wish he would," whispered
+the youngest girl to the eldest boy, whose hand she generally held; and
+then the little pattering steps sounded again, traveling through the
+snow, but they saw nobody--so they said nothing.
+
+The children would have liked to go straight to the ice; but Gardener
+insisted on taking them a mile round, to look at an extraordinary animal
+which a farmer there had just got--sent by his brother in Australia. The
+two old men stood gossiping so long that the children wearied
+extremely. Every minute seemed an hour till they got on the ice.
+
+At last one of them pulled Gardener's coat-tails, and whispered that
+they were quite ready to go.
+
+"Then I'm not," and he waited ever so much longer, and got a drink of
+hot cider, which made him quite lively for a little while.
+
+But by the time they reached the lake, he was as cross as ever. He
+struck the ice with his stick, but made no attempt to see if it really
+did bear--though he would not allow the children to go one step upon it
+till he had tried.
+
+"I know it doesn't bear, and you'll just have to go home again--a good
+thing too--saves me from losing a day's work."
+
+"Try, only try; Bill said it bore," implored the boys, and looked
+wistfully at the two beautiful slides--just as Bill said, one up and one
+down--stretching all across the lake; "of course it bears, or Bill could
+not have made these slides."
+
+"Bill's an ass!" said the Gardener, and put his heavy foot cautiously on
+the ice. Just then there was seen jumping across it a creature which
+certainly had never been seen on ice before. It made the most
+extraordinary bounds on its long hind legs, with its little fore legs
+tucked up in front of it as if it wanted to carry a muff; and its long,
+stiff tail sticking out straight behind, to balance it itself with
+apparently. The children at first started with surprise, and then burst
+out laughing, for it was the funniest creature, and had the funniest way
+of getting along, that they had ever seen in their lives.
+
+"It's the kangaroo!" said Gardener, in great excitement. "It has got
+loose--and it's sure to be lost--and what a way Mr. Giles will be in! I
+must go and tell him. Or stop, I'll try and catch it."
+
+But in vain--it darted once or twice across the ice, dodging him, as it
+were; and once coming so close that he nearly caught it by the tail--to
+the children's great delight--then it vanished entirely.
+
+"I must go and tell Mr. Giles directly," said Gardener, and then
+stopped. For he had promised not to leave the children; and it was such
+a wild-goose chase, after an escaped kangaroo. But he might get half a
+crown as a reward, and he was sure of another glass of cider.
+
+"You just stop quiet here, and I'll be back in five minutes," said he to
+the children. "You may go a little way on the ice--I think it's sound
+enough; only mind you don't tumble in, for there'll be nobody to pull
+you out."
+
+"Oh no," said the children, clapping their hands. They did not care for
+tumbling in, and were quite glad there was nobody there to pull them
+out. They hoped Gardener would stop a very long time away--only, as some
+one suggested when he was seen hurrying across the snowy field, he had
+taken away their lunch in his pocket, too.
+
+Off they darted, the three elder boys, with a good run; the biggest of
+the girls followed after them; and soon the whole four were skimming one
+after the other, as fast as a railway train, across the slippery ice.
+And, like a railway train, they had a collision, and all came tumbling
+one over the other, with great screaming and laughing, to the high bank
+on the other side. The two younger ones stood mournfully watching the
+others from the opposite bank--when there stood beside them a small
+brown man.
+
+"Ho-ho! little people," said he, coming between them and taking hold of
+a hand of each. His was so warm and theirs so cold, that it was quite
+comfortable. And then, somehow, they found in their mouths a nice
+lozenge--I think it was peppermint, but am not sure; which comforted
+them still more.
+
+"Did you want me to play with you?" cried the Brownie; "then here I am.
+What shall we do? Have a turn on the ice together?"
+
+No sooner said than done. The two children felt themselves floating
+along--it was more like floating than running--with Brownie between
+them; up the lake, and down the lake, and across the lake, not at all
+interfering with the sliders--indeed, it was a great deal better than
+sliding. Rosy and breathless, their toes so nice and warm, and their
+hands feeling like mince-pies just taken out of the oven--the little
+ones came to a standstill.
+
+The elder ones stopped their sliding, and looked toward Brownie with
+entreating eyes. He swung himself up to a willow bough, and then turned
+head over heels on to the ice.
+
+"Halloo! you don't mean to say you big ones want a race too! Well, come
+along--if the two eldest will give a slide to the little ones."
+
+He watched them take a tiny sister between them, and slide her up one
+slide and down another, screaming with delight. Then he took the two
+middle children in either hand.
+
+"One, two, three, and away!" Off they started--scudding along as light
+as feathers and as fast as steam-engines, over the smooth, black ice, so
+clear that they could see the bits of stick and water-grasses frozen in
+it, and even the little fishes swimming far down below--if they had only
+looked long enough.
+
+When all had had their fair turns, they began to be frightfully hungry.
+
+[Illustration: The two little children felt themselves floating
+along--with Brownie between them--Page 64]
+
+"Catch a fish for dinner, and I'll lend you a hook," said Brownie. At
+which they all laughed, and then looked rather grave. Pulling a cold,
+raw live fish from under the ice and eating it was not a pleasant idea
+of dinner. "Well, what would you like to have? Let the little one
+choose."
+
+She said, after thinking a minute, that she should like a currant-cake.
+
+"And I'd give all you a bit of it--a very large bit--I would indeed!"
+added she, almost with the tears in her eyes--she was so very hungry.
+
+"Do it, then!" said the Brownie, in his little squeaking voice.
+
+Immediately the stone that the little girl was sitting on--a round, hard
+stone, and so cold!--turned into a nice hot cake--so hot that she jumped
+up directly. As soon as she saw what it was, she clapped her hands for
+joy.
+
+"Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful cake! only we haven't got a knife to
+cut it."
+
+The boys felt in all their pockets, but somehow their knives never were
+there when they were wanted.
+
+"Look! you've got one in your hand!" said Brownie to the little one; and
+that minute a bit of stick she held turned into a bread-knife--silver,
+with an ivory handle--big enough and sharp enough, without being too
+sharp. For the youngest girl was not allowed to use sharp knives, though
+she liked cutting things excessively, especially cakes.
+
+"That will do. Sit you down and carve the dinner. Fair shares and don't
+let any body eat too much. Now begin, ma'am," said the Brownie, quite
+politely, as if she had been ever so old.
+
+Oh, how proud the little girl was. How bravely she set to work, and cut
+five of the biggest slices you ever saw, and gave them to her brothers
+and sisters, and was just going to take the sixth slice for herself,
+when she remembered the Brownie.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said she, as politely as he, though she was such a
+very little girl, and turned round to the wee brown man. But he was
+nowhere to be seen. The slices of cake in the children's hands remained
+cake, and uncommonly good it was, and such substantial eating that it
+did nearly the same as dinner; but the cake itself turned suddenly to a
+stone again, and the knife into a bit of stick.
+
+For there was the Gardener coming clumping along by the bank of the
+lake, and growling as he went.
+
+"Have you got the kangaroo?" shouted the children, determined to be
+civil, if possible.
+
+"This place is bewitched, I think," said he, "The kangaroo was fast
+asleep in the cow-shed. What! how dare you laugh at me?"
+
+But they hadn't laughed at all. And they found it no laughing matter,
+poor children, when Gardener came on the ice, and began to scold them
+and order them about. He was perfectly savage with crossness; for the
+people at Giles's Farm had laughed at him very much, and he did not like
+to be laughed at--and at the top of the field he had by chance met his
+mistress, and she asked him severely how he could think of leaving the
+children alone.
+
+Altogether, his conscience pricked him a good deal, and when people's
+consciences prick them, sometimes they get angry with other people,
+which is very silly, and only makes matters worse.
+
+"What have you been doing all this time?" said he.
+
+"All this five minutes?" said the oldest boy, mischievously; for
+Gardener was only to be away five minutes, and he had staid a full
+hour. Also, when he fumbled in his pocket for the children's lunch--to
+stop their tongues, perhaps--he found it was not there.
+
+They set up a great outcry; for, in spite of the cake, they could have
+eaten a little more. Indeed, the frost had such an effect upon all their
+appetites, that they felt not unlike that celebrated gentleman of whom
+it is told that
+
+          "He ate a cow, and ate a calf,
+          He ate an ox, and ate a half;
+          He ate a church, he ate the steeple,
+          He ate the priest, and all the people,
+          And said he hadn't had enough then."
+
+"We're so hungry, so very hungry! Couldn't you go back again and fetch
+us some dinner?" cried they, entreatingly.
+
+"Not I, indeed. You may go back to dinner yourselves. You shall, indeed,
+for I want my dinner too. Two hours is plenty long enough to stop on the
+ice."
+
+"It isn't two hours--it's only one."
+
+"Well, one will do better than more. You're all right now--and you might
+soon tumble in, or break your legs on the slide. So come away home."
+
+It wasn't kind of Gardener, and I don't wonder the children felt it
+hard; indeed, the eldest boy resisted stoutly.
+
+"Mother said we might stop all day, and we will stop all day. You may go
+home if you like."
+
+"I won't, and you shall!" said Gardener, smacking a whip that he carried
+in his hand. "Stop till I catch you, and I'll give you this about your
+back, my fine gentleman."
+
+And he tried to follow, but the little fellow darted across the ice,
+objecting to be either caught or whipped. It may have been rather
+naughty, but I am afraid it was great fun dodging the Gardener up and
+down; he being too timid to go on the slippery ice, and sometimes
+getting so close that the whip nearly touched the lad.
+
+"Bless us! there's the kangaroo again!" said he, starting. Just as he
+had caught the boy, and lifted the whip, the creature was seen
+hop-hopping from bank to bank. "I can't surely be mistaken this time; I
+must catch it."
+
+Which seemed quite easy, for it limped as if it was lame, or as if the
+frost had bitten its toes, poor beast! Gardener went after it, walking
+cautiously on the slippery, crackling ice, and never minding whether or
+not he walked on the slides, though they called out to him that his
+nailed boots would spoil them.
+
+But whether it was that ice which bears a boy will not bear a man, or
+whether at each lame step of the kangaroo there came a great crack, is
+more than I can tell. However, just as Gardener reached the middle of
+the lake, the ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.--The kangaroo too,
+apparently, for it was not seen afterward.
+
+What a hullaballoo the poor man made! Not that he was drowning--the lake
+was too shallow to drown any body, but he got terribly wet, and the
+water was very cold. He soon scrambled out, the boys helping him; and
+then he hobbled home as fast as he could, not even saying thank you, or
+taking the least notice of them.
+
+Indeed, nobody took notice of them--nobody came to fetch them, and they
+might have staid sliding the whole afternoon. Only somehow they did not
+feel quite easy in their minds. And though the hole in the ice closed up
+immediately, and it seemed as firm as ever, still they did not like to
+slide upon it again.
+
+"I think we had better go home and tell mother every thing," said one of
+them. "Besides, we ought to see what has become of poor Gardener. He was
+very wet."
+
+"Yes, but oh, how funny he looked!" And they all burst out laughing at
+the recollection of the figure he cut, scrambling out through the ice
+with his trowsers dripping up to the knees, and the water running out of
+his boots, making a little pool, wherever he stepped.
+
+"And it freezes so hard, that by the time he gets home his clothes will
+be as stiff as a board. His wife will have to put him to the fire to
+thaw before he can get out of them."
+
+[Illustration: The ice suddenly broke, and in he popped.]
+
+Again the little people burst into shouts of laughter. Although they
+laughed, they were a little sorry for the poor old Gardener, and hoped
+no great harm had come to him, but that he had got safe home and been
+dried by his own warm fire.
+
+The frosty mist was beginning already to rise, and the sun, though still
+high up in the sky, looked like a ball of red-hot iron as the six
+children went homeward across the fields--merry enough still, but not
+quite so merry as they had been a few hours before.
+
+"Let's hope mother won't be vexed with us," said they, "but will let us
+come back again to-morrow. It wasn't our fault that Gardener tumbled
+in."
+
+As somebody said this, they all heard quite distinctly, "Ha, ha, ha!"
+and "Ho, ho, ho!" and a sound of little steps pattering behind.
+
+But whatever they thought, nobody ventured to say that it was the fault
+of the Brownie.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ADVENTURE THE SIXTH AND LAST
+
+BROWNIE AND THE CLOTHES
+
+
+TILL the next time; but when there is a Brownie in the house, no one can
+say that any of his tricks will be the last. For there's no stopping a
+Brownie, and no getting rid of him either. This one had followed the
+family from house to house, generation after generation--never any
+older, and sometimes seeming even to grow younger by the tricks he
+played. In fact, though he looked like an old man, he was a perpetual
+child.
+
+To the children he never did any harm, quite the contrary. And his chief
+misdoings were against those who vexed the children. But he gradually
+made friends with several of his grown up enemies. Cook, for instance,
+who had ceased to be lazy at night and late in the morning, found no
+more black footmarks on her white table cloth. And Brownie found his
+basin of milk waiting for him, night after night, behind the coal-cellar
+door.
+
+Bill, too, got on well enough with his pony, and Jess was taken no more
+night-rides. No ducks were lost; and Dolly gave her milk quite
+comfortably to whoever milked her. Alas! this was either Bill or the
+Gardener's wife now. After that adventure on the ice, poor Gardener very
+seldom appeared; when he did, it was on two crutches, for he had had
+rheumatism in his feet, and could not stir outside his cottage door.
+Bill, therefore, had double work; which was probably all the better for
+Bill.
+
+The garden had to take care of itself; but this being winter-time, it
+did not much signify. Besides, Brownie seldom went into the garden,
+except in summer; during the hard weather he preferred to stop in his
+coal-cellar. It might not have been a lively place, but it was warm, and
+he liked it.
+
+He had company there, too; for when the cat had more kittens--the kitten
+he used to tease being grown up now--they were all put in a hamper in
+the coal-cellar; and of cold nights Brownie used to jump in beside them,
+and be as warm and as cozy as a kitten himself. The little things never
+were heard to mew; so it may be supposed they liked his society. And the
+old mother-cat evidently bore him no malice for the whipping she had got
+by mistake; so Brownie must have found means of coaxing her over. One
+thing you may be sure of--all the while she and her kittens were in his
+coal-cellar, he took care never to turn himself into a mouse.
+
+He was spending the winter, on the whole, very comfortably, without much
+trouble either to himself or his neighbors, when one day, the
+coal-cellar being nearly empty, two men, and a great wagon-load of coals
+behind them, came to the door, Gardener's wife following.
+
+"My man says you're to give the cellar a good cleaning out before you
+put any more in," said she, in her sharp voice; "and don't be lazy about
+it. It'll not take you ten minutes, for it's nearly all coal-dust,
+except that one big lump in the corner--you might clear that out too."
+
+"Stop, it's the Brownie's lump! better not meddle with it," whispered
+the little scullery-maid.
+
+"Don't you meddle with matters that can't concern you," said the
+Gardener's wife, who had been thinking what a nice help it would be to
+her fire. To be sure, it was not her lump of coal, but she thought she
+might take it; the mistress would never miss it, or the Brownie either.
+He must be a very silly old Brownie to live under a lump of coal.
+
+So she argued with herself, and made the men lift it. "You must lift it,
+you see, if you are to sweep the coal-cellar out clean. And you may as
+well put it on the barrow, and I'll wheel it out of your way."
+
+This she said in quite a civil voice, lest they should tell of her, and
+stood by while it was being done. It was done without any thing
+happening, except that a large rat ran out of the coal-cellar door,
+bouncing against her feet, and frightening her so much that she nearly
+tumbled down.
+
+"See what nonsense it is to talk of Brownies living in a coal-cellar.
+Nothing lives there but rats, and I'll have them poisoned pretty soon,
+and get rid of them."
+
+But she was rather frightened all the same, for the rat had been such a
+very big rat, and had looked at her, as it darted past, with such wild,
+bright, mischievous eyes--brown eyes, of course--that she all but jumped
+with surprise.
+
+However, she had got her lump of coal, and was wheeling it quietly away,
+nobody seeing, to her cottage at the bottom of the garden. She was a
+hard-worked woman, and her husband's illness made things harder for her.
+Still, she was not quite easy at taking what did not belong to her.
+
+"I don't suppose any body will miss the coal," she repeated. "I dare say
+the mistress would have given it to me if I had asked her; and as for
+its being the Brownie's lump--fudge! Bless us! what's that?"
+
+For the barrow began to creak dreadfully, and every creak sounded like
+the cry of a child, just as if the wheel were going over its leg and
+crushing its poor little bones.
+
+"What a horrid noise! I must grease the barrow. If only I knew where
+they keep the grease-box. All goes wrong, now my old man's laid up. Oh,
+dear! oh dear!"
+
+For suddenly the barrow had tilted over, though there was not a single
+stone near, and the big coal was tumbled on to the ground, where it
+broke into a thousand pieces. Gathering it up again was hopeless, and it
+made such a mess on the gravel-walk, that the old woman was thankful her
+misfortune happened behind the privet hedge, where nobody was likely to
+come.
+
+"I'll take a broom and sweep it up to-morrow. Nobody goes near the
+orchard now, except me when I hang out the clothes; so I need say
+nothing about it to the old man or any body. But ah! deary me, what a
+beautiful lot of coal I've lost!"
+
+She stood and looked at it mournfully, and then went into her cottage,
+where she found two or three of the little children keeping Gardener
+company. They did not dislike to do this now; but he was so much kinder
+than he used to be--so quiet and patient, though he suffered very much.
+And he had never once reproached them for what they always
+remembered--how it was ever since he was on the ice with them that he
+had got the rheumatism.
+
+[Illustration: Suddenly the barrow had tilted over.]
+
+So, one or other of them made a point of going to see him every day, and
+telling him all the funny things they could think of--indeed, it was a
+contest among them who should first make Gardener laugh. They did not
+succeed in doing that exactly; but they managed to make him smile; and
+he was always gentle and grateful to them; so that they sometimes
+thought it was rather nice his being ill.
+
+But his wife was not pleasant; she grumbled all day long, and snapped at
+him and his visitors; being especially snappish this day, because she
+had lost her big coal.
+
+"I can't have you children come bothering here," said she, crossly. "I
+want to wring out my clothes, and hang them to dry. Be off with you!"
+
+"Let us stop a little--just to tell Gardener this one curious thing
+about Dolly and the pig--and then we'll help you to take your clothes to
+the orchard; we can carry your basket between us--we can, indeed."
+
+That was the last thing the woman wished; for she knew the that the
+children would be sure to see the mess on the gravel-walk--and they
+were such inquisitive children--they noticed every thing. They would
+want to know all about it, and how the bits of coal came there. It was
+very a awkward position. But people who take other people's property
+often do find themselves in awkward positions.
+
+"Thank you, young gentlemen," said she, quite politely; "but indeed the
+basket is too heavy for you. However, you may stop and gossip a little
+longer with my old man. He likes it."
+
+And, while they were shut up with Gardener in his bedroom, off she went,
+carrying the basket on her head, and hung her clothes carefully out--the
+big things on lines between the fruit trees, and the little things, such
+as stockings and pocket handkerchiefs, stuck on the gooseberry-bushes,
+or spread upon the clean green grass.
+
+"Such a fine day as it is! they'll dry directly," said she, cheerfully,
+to herself. "Plenty of sun, and not a breath of wind to blow them about.
+I'll leave them for an hour or two, and come and fetch them in before it
+grows dark. Then I shall get all my folding done by bedtime, and have a
+clear day for ironing to-morrow."
+
+But when she did fetch them in, having bundled them all together in the
+dusk of the evening, never was such a sight as those clothes! They were
+all twisted in the oddest way--the stockings turned inside out, with the
+heels and toes tucked into the legs; the sleeves of the shirts tied
+together in double knots, the pocket-handkerchiefs made into round
+balls, so tight that if you had pelted a person with them they would
+have given very hard blows indeed. And the whole looked as if, instead
+of lying quietly on the grass and bushes, they had been dragged through
+heaps of mud and then stamped upon, so that there was not a clean inch
+upon them from end to end.
+
+"What a horrid mess!" cried the Gardener's wife, who had been at first
+very angry, and then very frightened. "But I know what it is; that nasty
+Boxer has got loose again. It's he that has done it."
+
+"Boxer wouldn't tie shirt-sleeves in double knots, or make balls of
+pocket-handkerchiefs," Gardener was heard to answer, solemnly.
+
+"Then it's those horrid children; they are always up to some mischief or
+other--just let me catch them!"
+
+"You'd better not," said somebody in a voice exactly like Gardener's,
+though he himself declared he had not spoken a word. Indeed, he was fast
+asleep.
+
+"Well, it's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of," the
+Gardener's wife said, supposing she was talking to her husband all the
+time; but soon she held her tongue, for she found here and there among
+the clothes all sorts of queer marks--marks of fingers, and toes, and
+heels, not in mud at all, but in coal-dust, as black as black could be.
+
+Now, as the place where the big coal had tumbled out of the barrow was
+fully fifty yards from the orchard, and, as the coal could not come to
+the clothes, and the clothes could not go without hands, the only
+conclusion she could arrive at was--well, no particular conclusion at
+all!
+
+It was too late that night to begin washing again; besides, she was
+extremely tired, and her husband woke up rather worse than usual, so she
+just bundled the clothes up anyhow in a corner, put the kitchen to
+rights, and went mournfully to bed.
+
+Next morning she got up long before it was light, washed her clothes
+through all over again, and, it being impossible to dry them by the
+fire, went out with them once more, and began spreading them out in
+their usual corner, in a hopeless and melancholy manner. While she was
+at it, the little folks came trooping around her. She didn't scold them
+this time, she was too low-spirited.
+
+"No! my old man isn't any better, and I don't fancy he ever will be,"
+said she, in answer to their questions. "And every thing's going wrong
+with us--just listen!" And she told the trick which had been played her
+about the clothes.
+
+The little people tried not to laugh, but it was so funny; and even now,
+the minute she had done hanging them out, there was something so droll
+in the way the clothes blew about, without any wind; the shirts hanging
+with their necks downward, as if there was a man inside them; and the
+drawers standing stiffly astride on the gooseberry-bushes, for all the
+world as if they held a pair of legs still. As for Gardener's
+night-caps--long, white cotton, with a tassel at the top--they were
+alarming to look at; just like a head stuck on the top of a pole.
+
+The whole thing was so peculiar, and the old woman so comical in her
+despair, that the children, after trying hard to keep it in, at last
+broke into shouts of laughter. She turned furiously upon them.
+
+"It was you who did it!"
+
+"No, indeed it wasn't!" said they, jumping farther to escape her blows.
+For she had got one of her clothes-props, and was laying about her in
+the most reckless manner. However, she hurt nobody, and then she
+suddenly burst out, not laughing, but crying.
+
+"It's a cruel thing, whoever has done it, to play such tricks on a poor
+old body like me, with a sick husband that she works hard for, and not a
+child to help her. But I don't care. I'll wash my clothes again, if it's
+twenty times over, and I'll hang them out again in the very place, just
+to make you all ashamed of yourselves."
+
+Perhaps the little people were ashamed of themselves, though they really
+had not done the mischief. But they knew quite well who had done it, and
+more than once they were about to tell; only they were afraid, if they
+did so, they should vex the Brownie so much that he would never come and
+play with them any more.
+
+So they looked at one another without speaking, and when the Gardener's
+wife had emptied her basket and dried her eyes, they said to her, very
+kindly:
+
+"Perhaps no harm may come to your clothes this time. We'll sit and watch
+them till they are dry."
+
+"Just as you like; I don't care. Them that hides can find, and them that
+plays tricks knows how to stop 'em."
+
+It was not a civil speech, but then things were hard for the poor old
+woman. She had been awake nearly all night, and up washing at daybreak;
+her eyes were red with crying, and her steps weary and slow. The little
+children felt quite sorry for her, and, instead of going to play, sat
+watching the clothes as patiently as possible.
+
+Nothing came near them. Sometimes, as before, the things seemed to dance
+about without hands, and turn into odd shapes, as if there were people
+inside them; but not a creature was seen and not a sound was heard. And
+though there was neither wind nor sun, very soon all the linen was
+perfectly dry.
+
+"Fetch one of mother's baskets, and we'll fold it up as tidily as
+possible--that is, the girls can do it, it's their business--and we boys
+will carry it safe to Gardener's cottage."
+
+So said they, not liking to say that they could not trust it out of
+their sight for fear of Brownie, whom, indeed, they were expecting to
+see peer round from every bush. They began to have a secret fear that
+he was rather a naughty Brownie; but then, as the eldest little girl
+whispered, "He was only a Brownie, and knew no better." Now they were
+growing quite big children, who would be men and women some time; when
+they hoped they would never do any thing wrong. (Their parents hoped the
+same, but doubted it.)
+
+In a serious and careful manner they folded up the clothes, and laid
+them one by one in the basket without any mischief, until, just as the
+two biggest boys were lifting their burden to carry it away, they felt
+something tugging at it from underneath.
+
+"Halloo! Where are you taking all this rubbish? Better give it to me."
+
+"No, if you please," said they, very civilly, not to offend the little
+brown man. "We'll not trouble you, thanks! We'd rather do it ourselves;
+for poor Gardener is very ill, and his wife is very miserable, and we
+are extremely sorry for them both."
+
+"Extremely sorry!" cried Brownie, throwing up his cap in the air, and
+tumbling head over heels in an excited manner. "What in the world does
+extremely sorry mean?"
+
+The children could not explain, especially to a Brownie; but they
+thought they understood--anyhow, they felt it. And they looked so
+sorrowful that the Brownie could not tell what to make of it.
+
+He could not be said to be sorry, since, being a Brownie, and not a
+human being, knowing right from wrong, he never tried particularly to do
+right, and had no idea that he was doing wrong. But he seemed to have an
+idea that he was troubling the children, and he never liked to see them
+look unhappy.
+
+So he turned head over heels six times running, and then came back
+again.
+
+"The silly old woman! I washed her clothes for her last night in a way
+she didn't expect. I hadn't any soap, so I used a little mud and
+coal-dust, and very pretty they looked. Ha, ha, ha! Shall I wash them
+over again to-night?"
+
+"Oh, no, please don't!" implored the children.
+
+"Shall I starch and iron them? I'll do it beautifully. One--two--three,
+five--six--seven, Abracadabra, tum--tum--ti!" shouted he, jabbering all
+sorts of nonsense, as it seemed to the children, and playing such antics
+that they stood and stared in the utmost amazement, and quite forgot the
+clothes. When they looked round again, the basket was gone.
+
+      "Seek till you find, seek till you find,
+       Under the biggest gooseberry-bush, exactly to your mind."
+
+They heard him singing this remarkable rhyme, long after they had lost
+sight of him. And then they all set about searching; but it was a long
+while before they found, and still longer before they could decide,
+which was the biggest gooseberry-bush, each child having his or her
+opinion--sometimes a very strong one--on the matter. At last they agreed
+to settle it by pulling half-a-dozen little sticks, to see which stick
+was the longest, and the child that held it was to decide the
+gooseberry-bush.
+
+This done, underneath the branches what should they find but the
+identical basket of clothes! only, instead of being roughly dried, they
+were all starched and ironed in the most beautiful manner. As for the
+shirts, they really were a picture to behold, and the stockings were all
+folded up, and even darned in one or two places, as neatly as possible.
+And strange to tell, there was not a single black mark of feet or
+fingers on any one of them.
+
+"Kind little Brownie! clever little Brownie!" cried the children in
+chorus, and thought this was the most astonishing trick he had ever
+played.
+
+What the Gardener's wife said about it, whether they told her any thing,
+or allowed her to suppose that the clothes had been done in their own
+laundry instead of the Brownie's (wherever that establishment might be),
+is more than I can tell. Of one thing only I am certain--that the little
+people said nothing but what was true. Also, that the very minute they
+got home they told their mother every thing.
+
+But for a long time after that they were a good deal troubled. Gardener
+got better, and went hobbling about the place again, to his own and
+every body's great content, and his wife was less sharp-tongued and
+complaining than usual--indeed, she had nothing to complain of. All the
+family were very flourishing, except the little Brownie.
+
+Often there was heard a curious sound all over the house; it might have
+been rats squeaking behind the wainscot--the elders said it was--but the
+children were sure it was a sort of weeping and wailing.
+
+          "They've stolen my coal,
+           And I haven't a hole
+             To hide in;
+           Not even a house
+           One could ask a mouse
+             To bide in."
+
+A most forlorn tune it was, ending in a dreary minor key, and it lasted
+for months and months--at least the children said it did. And they were
+growing quite dull for want of a playfellow, when, by the greatest good
+luck in the world, there came to the house not only a new lot of
+kittens, but a new baby. And the new baby was everybody's pet, including
+the Brownie's.
+
+[Illustration: The new baby was everybody's pet.--Page 87]
+
+From that time, though he was not often seen, he was continually heard
+up and down the staircase, where he was frequently mistaken for Tiny or
+the cat, and sent sharply down again, which was wasting a great deal of
+wholesome anger upon Mr. Nobody. Or he lurked in odd corners of the
+nursery, whither the baby was seen crawling eagerly after nothing in
+particular, or sitting laughing with all her might at something--probably
+her own toes.
+
+But, as Brownie was never seen, he was never suspected. And since he did
+no mischief--neither pinched the baby nor broke the toys, left no soap
+in the bath and no footmarks about the room--but was always a
+well-conducted Brownie in every way, he was allowed to inhabit the
+nursery (or supposed to do so, since, as nobody saw him, nobody could
+prevent him), until the children were grown up into men and women.
+
+After that he retired into his coal-cellar, and, for all I know, he may
+live there still, and have gone through hundreds of adventures since;
+but as I never heard them, I can't tell them. Only I think, if I could
+be a little child again, I should exceedingly like a Brownie to play
+with me. Should not you?
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: Some Poems For Children
+
+By Miss Mulock]
+
+
+THE BLACKBIRD AND THE ROOKS.
+
+    A SLENDER young Blackbird built in a thorn-tree
+    A spruce little fellow as ever could be;
+    His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black,
+    So long was his tail, and so glossy his back,
+    That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her eggs,
+    And only just left them to stretch her poor legs,
+    And pick for a minute the worm she preferred,
+    Thought there never was seen such a beautiful bird.
+
+    And such a kind husband! how early and late
+    He would sit at the top of the old garden gate,
+    And sing, just as merry as if it were June,
+    Being ne'er out of patience, or temper, or tune.
+    "So unlike those Rooks, dear; from morning till night
+    They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight,
+    And wrangle and jangle, and plunder--while we
+    Sit, honest and safe, in our pretty thorn-tree."
+
+    Just while she was speaking, a lively young Rook
+    Alit with a flap that the thorn-bush quite shook,
+    And seizing a stick from the nest--"Come, I say,
+    That will just suit me, neighbor"--flew with it away
+    The lady loud twittered--her husband soon heard:
+    Though peaceful, he was not a cowardly bird;
+    And with arguments angry enough to o'erwhelm
+    A whole Rookery--flew to the top of the elm.
+
+    "How dare you, you--" (thief he was going to say;
+    But a civiller sentiment came in the way:
+    For he knew 'tis no good, and it anyhow shames
+    A gentleman, calling strange gentlemen names:)
+    "Pray what is your motive, Sir Rook, for such tricks,
+    As building your mansion with other folks' sticks?
+    I request you'll restore them, in justice and law."
+    At which the whole colony set up a--caw!
+
+    But Blackbird, not silenced, then spoke out again;
+    "I've built my small nest with much labor and pain.
+    I'm a poor singing gentleman, Sirs, it is true,
+    Though cockneys do often mistake me for you;
+    But I keep Mrs. Blackbird, and four little eggs,
+    And neither e'er pilfers, or borrows, or begs.
+    Now have I not right on my side, do you see?"
+    But they flew at and pecked him all down the elm-tree.
+
+    Ah! wickedness prospers sometimes, I much fear;
+    And virtue's not always victorious, that's clear:
+    At least, not at first: for it must be confessed
+    Poor Blackbird lost many a stick from his nest;
+    And his unkind grand neighbors with scoffing caw-caws,
+    In his voice and his character found many flaws,
+    And jeered him and mocked him; but when they'd all done,
+    He flew to his tree and sang cheerily on.
+
+    At length May arrived with her garlands of leaves;
+    The swallows were building beneath the farm-eaves,
+    Wrens, linnets, and sparrows, on every hedge-side,
+    Were bringing their families out with great pride;
+    While far above all, on the tallest tree-top,
+    With a flutter and clamor that never did stop,
+    The haughty old Rooks held their heads up so high,
+    And dreamed not of trouble--until it drew nigh!
+
+    One morning at seven, as he came with delight
+    To his wife's pretty parlor of may-blossoms white,
+    Having fed all his family ere rise of sun,--
+    Mr. Blackbird perceived--a big man with a gun;
+    Who also perceived him: "See, Charlie, among
+    That may, sits the Blackbird we've heard for so long:
+    Most likely his nest's there--how frightened he looks!
+    Nay, Blackie, we're not come for you, but the Rooks."
+
+    I don't say 'twas cruel--I can't say 'twas kind--
+    On the subject I haven't quite made up my mind:
+    But those guns went pop-popping all morning, alas!
+    And young Rooks kept dropping among the long grass,
+    Till good Mr. Blackbird, who watched the whole thing,
+    For pity could scarcely a single note sing,
+    And in the May sunset he hardly could bear
+    To hear the returning Rooks' caw of despair.
+
+    "O, dear Mrs. Blackbird," at last warbled he,
+    "How happy we are in our humble thorn-tree;
+    How gaily we live, living honest and poor,
+    How sweet are the may-blossoms over our door."
+    "And then our dear children," the mother replied,
+    And she nested them close to her warm feathered side,
+    And with a soft twitter of drowsy content,
+    In the quiet May moonlight to sleep they all went.
+
+
+
+THE SHAKING OF THE PEAR-TREE
+
+          OF all days I remember,
+            In summers passed away,
+          Was "the shaking of the pear-tree,"
+            In grandma's orchard gay.
+
+          A large old-fashioned orchard,
+            With long grass under foot,
+          And blackberry-brambles crawling
+            In many a tangled shoot.
+
+          From cherry time, till damsons
+            Dropped from the branches sere,
+          That wonderful old orchard
+            Was full of fruit all year;
+
+          We pick'd it up in baskets,
+            Or pluck'd it from the wall;
+          But the shaking of the pear-tree
+            Was the grandest treat of all.
+
+                Long, long the days we counted
+                  Until that day drew nigh;
+                Then, how we watched the sun set,
+                  And criticised the sky!
+
+                    If rain--"'Twill clear at midnight;"
+                      If dawn broke chill and gray,
+                    "O many a cloudy morning
+                      Turns out a lovely day."
+
+          So off we started gaily,
+            Heedless of jolt or jar;
+          Through town and lane, and hamlet,
+            In old Llewellyn's car.
+
+                He's dead and gone--Llewellyn,
+                  These twenty years, I doubt:
+                If I put him in this poem,
+                  He'll never find it out,
+
+                    The patient, kind Llewellyn--
+                      Whose broad face smiled all o'er,
+                    As he lifted out us children
+                      At grandma's very door.
+
+          And there stood Grandma's Betty,
+            With cheeks like apples red;
+          And Dash, the spaniel, waddled
+            Out of his cosy bed.
+
+                With silky ears down dropping,
+                  And coat of chestnut pale;
+                He was so fat and lazy
+                  He scarce could wag his tail.
+
+                    Poor Dash is dead, and buried
+                      Under the lilac-tree;
+                    And Betty's old,--as, children,
+                      We all may one day be.
+
+          I hope no child will vex us,
+            As we vexed Betty then,
+          With winding up the draw-well,
+            Or hunting the old hen.
+
+                And teasing, teasing, teasing,
+                  Till afternoon wore round,
+                And shaken pears came tumbling
+                  In showers upon the ground.
+
+                    O how we jumped and shouted!
+                      O how we plunged amid
+                    The long grass, where the treasures,
+                      Dropped down and deftly hid;
+
+          Long, slender-shaped, red-russet,
+            Or yellow just like gold;
+          Ah! never pears have tasted
+            Like those sweet pears of old!
+
+                We ate--I'd best not mention
+                  How many: paused to fill
+                Big basket after basket;
+                  Working with right good-will;
+
+                    Then hunted round the orchard
+                      For half-ripe plums--in vain;
+                    So, back unto the pear-tree,
+                      To eat, and eat again.
+
+          I'm not on my confession,
+            And therefore need not say
+          How tired, and cross, and sleepy,
+            Some were ere close of day;
+
+                For pleasure has its ending,
+                  And eke its troubles too;
+                Which you'll find out, my children,
+                  As well as we could do.
+
+                    But yet this very minute,
+                      I seem to see it all--
+                    The pear-tree's empty branches
+                      The gray of evening-fall;
+
+          The children's homeward silence,
+            The furnace fires that glowed,
+          Each mile or so, out streaming
+            Across the lonely road;
+
+          And high, high set in heaven,
+            One large bright, beauteous star,
+          That shone between the curtains
+            Of old Llewellyn's car.
+
+
+THE WONDERFUL APPLE-TREE.[A]
+
+    COME here, my dear boys, and I'll tell you a fable,
+    Which you may believe as much as you're able;
+    It isn't all true, nor all false, I'll be bound--
+    Of the tree that bears apples all the year round.
+
+    There was a Dean Tucker of Gloster city,
+    Who may have been wise, or worthy, or witty;
+    But I know nothing of him, the more's the pity,
+    Save that he was Dean Tucker of Gloster city.
+
+    And walking one day with a musing air
+    In his Deanery garden, close by where
+    The great cathedral's west window's seen,--
+    "I'll plant an apple," said Tucker the Dean.
+
+    The apple was planted, the apple grew,
+    A stout young tree, full of leaves not few;
+    The apple was grafted, the apple bore
+    Of goodly apples, one, two, three, four.
+
+    The old Dean walked in his garden fair,
+    "I'm glad I planted that young tree there,
+    Though it was but a shoot, or some old tree's sucker;
+    I'll taste it to-morrow," said good Dean Tucker.
+
+    But lo, in the night when (they say) trees talk,
+    And some of the liveliest get up and walk,
+    With fairies abroad for watch and warden--
+    There was such a commotion in the Dean's garden!
+
+    "I will not be gathered," the apple-tree said,
+    "Was it for this I blossomed so red?
+    Hung out my fruit all the summer days,
+    Got so much sunshine, and pleasure and praise?"
+
+    "Ah!" interrupted a solemn red plum,
+    "This is the end to which all of us come;
+    Last month I was laden with hundreds--but now"--
+    And he sighed the last little plum off from his bough.
+
+    "Nay, friend, take it easy," the pear-tree replied
+    (A lady-like person against the wall-side).
+    "Man guards, nurtures, trains us from top down to root:
+    I think 'tis but fair we should give him our fruit."
+
+    "No, I'll not be gathered," the apple resumed,
+    And shook his young branches, and fluttered and fumed;
+    "And I'll not drop neither, as some of you drop,
+    Over-ripe: I'm determined to keep my whole crop.
+
+    "And I with"--O'er his branches just then _something_ flew;
+    It seemed like moth, large and grayish of hue.
+    But it was a Fairy. Her voice soft did sound,
+    "Be the tree that bears apples all the year round."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    The Dean to his apple-tree, came, full of hope,
+    But tough was the fruit-stalk as double-twist rope,
+    And when he had cut it with patience and pain,
+    He bit just one mouthful--and never again.
+
+    "An apple so tasteless, so juiceless, so hard,
+    Is, sure, good for nought but to bowl in the yard;
+    The choir-boys may have it." But choir-boys soon found
+    It was worthless--the tree that bore all the year round.
+
+    And Gloster lads climbing the Deanery wall
+    Were punished, as well might all young thieves appal,
+    For, clutching the booty for which they did sin,
+    They bit at the apples--and left their teeth in!
+
+    And thus all the year from October till May,
+    From May till October, the apples shone gay;
+    But 'twas just outside glitter, for no hand was found
+    To pluck at the fruit which hung all the year round.
+
+    And so till they rotted, those queer apples hung,
+    The bare boughs and blossoms and ripe fruit among
+    And in Gloster city it still may be found--
+    The tree that bears apples all the year round.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[A] This tree, known among gardeners by the name of "Winter-hanger" or
+"Forbidden Fruit," was planted by Dean Tucker in 1760. It, or an off
+shoot from it, still exists in the city of Gloucester.
+
+
+THE JEALOUS BOY
+
+          WHAT, my little foolish Ned,
+            Think you mother's eyes are blind,
+            That her heart has grown unkind,
+          And she will not turn her head,
+            Cannot see, for all her joy,
+            Her poor jealous little boy?
+
+          What though sister be the pet--
+            Laughs, and leaps, and clings, and loves,
+            With her eyes as soft as dove's--
+          Why should yours with tears be wet?
+            Why such angry tears let fall?
+            Mother's heart has room for all.
+
+          Mother's heart is very wide,
+            And its doors all open stand:
+            Lightest touch of tiniest hand
+          She will never put aside.
+            Why her happiness destroy,
+            Foolish, naughty, jealous boy?
+
+          Come within the circle bright,
+            Where we laugh, and dance, and sing,
+            Full of love to everything;
+          As God loves us, day and night,
+            And _forgives_ us. Come--with joy
+            Mother too forgives her boy.
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE BIRKENHEAD
+
+TOLD TO TWO CHILDREN
+
+          AND so you want a fairy tale,
+            My little maidens twain?
+          Well, sit beside the waterfall,
+            Noisy with last night's rain;
+
+          On couch of moss, with elfin spears
+            Bristling, all fierce to see,
+          When from the yet brown moor down drops
+            The lonely April bee.
+
+          All the wide valley blushes green,
+            While, in far depths below,
+          Wharfe flashes out a great bright eye,
+            Then hides his shining flow;--
+
+          Wharfe, busy, restless, rapid Wharfe,
+            The glory of our dale;
+          O I could of the River Wharfe
+            Tell such a fairy tale!
+
+          "The Boy of Egremond," you cry,--
+            "And all the 'bootless bene:'
+          We know that poem, every word,
+            And we the Strid have seen."
+
+          No, clever damsels: though the tale
+            Seems still to bear a part,
+          In every lave of Wharfe's bright wave,
+            The broken mother's heart--
+
+          Little you know of broken hearts,
+            My Kitty, blithe and wise,
+          Grave Mary, with the woman soul
+            Dawning through childish eyes.
+
+          And long, long distant may God keep
+            The day when each shall know
+          The entrance to His kingdom through
+            His baptism of woe!
+
+          But yet 'tis good to hear of grief
+            Which He permits to be;
+          Even as in our green inland home
+            We talk of wrecks at sea.
+
+          So on this lovely day, when spring
+            Wakes soft o'er moor and dale,
+          I'll tell--not quite your wish--but yet
+            A noble "fairy" tale.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          'Twas six o'clock in the morning,
+            The sea like crystal lay,
+          When the good troop-ship Birkenhead
+            Set sail from Simon's Bay.
+
+          The Cape of Good Hope on her right
+            Gloomed at her through the noon:
+          Brief tropic twilight fled, and night
+            Fell suddenly and soon.
+
+          At eight o'clock in the evening
+            Dim grew the pleasant land;
+          O'er smoothest seas the southern heaven
+            Its starry arch out-spanned.
+
+          The soldiers on the bulwarks leaned,
+            Smoked, chatted; and below
+          The soldiers' wives sang babes to sleep,
+            While on the ship sailed slow.
+
+          Six hundred and thirty souls held she,
+            Good, bad, old, young, rich, poor;
+          Six hundred and thirty living souls--
+            God knew them all.--Secure
+
+          He counted them in His right hand,
+            That held the hungering seas;
+          And to four hundred came a voice--
+            "The Master hath need of these."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          On, onward, still the vessel went
+            Till, with a sudden shock,
+          Like one that's clutched by unseen Death,
+            She struck upon a rock.
+
+          She filled. Not hours, not minutes left;
+            Each second a life's gone:
+          Drowned in their berths, washed overboard,
+            Lost, swimming, one by one;
+
+          Till, o'er this chaos of despair
+            Rose, like celestial breath,
+          The law of order, discipline,
+            Obedience unto death.
+
+          The soldiers mustered upon deck,
+            As mute as on parade;
+          "Women and children to the boats!"
+            And not a man gainsayed.
+
+          Without a murmur or a moan
+            They stood, formed rank and file,
+          Between the dreadful crystal seas
+            And the sky's dreadful smile.
+
+          In face of death they did their work
+            As they in life would do,
+          Embarking at a quiet quay--
+            A quiet, silent crew.
+
+          "Now each man for himself. To the boats!"
+            Arose a passing cry.
+          The soldier-captain answered, "Swamp
+            The women and babes?--No, die!"
+
+          And so they died. Each in his place,
+            Obedient to command,
+          They went down with the sinking ship,
+            Went down in sight of land.
+
+          The great sea oped her mouth, and closed
+            O'er them. Awhile they trod
+          The valley of the shadow of death,
+            And then were safe with God.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          My little girlies--What! your tears
+            Are dropping on the grass,
+          Over my more than "fairy" tale,
+            A tale that "really was!"
+
+          Nay, dry them. If we could but see
+            The joy in angels' eyes
+          O'er good lives, or heroic deaths
+            Of pure self-sacrifice,--
+
+          We should not weep o'er these that sleep--
+            Their short, sharp struggle o'er--
+          Under the rolling waves that break
+            Upon the Afric shore.
+
+          God works not as man works, nor sees
+            As man sees: though we mark
+          Ofttimes the moving of His hands
+            Beneath the eternal Dark.
+
+          But yet we know that all is well
+            That He, who loved all these,
+          Loves children laughing on the moor,
+            Birds singing in the trees;
+
+          That He who made both life and death,
+            He knoweth which is best:
+          We live to Him, we die to Him,
+            And leave Him all the rest.
+
+
+BIRDS IN THE SNOW
+
+
+CHILD
+
+    I WISH I were a little bird
+      When the sun shines
+    And the wind whispers low,
+      Through the tall pines,
+    I'd rock in the elm tops,
+      Rifle the pear-tree,
+    Hide in the cherry boughs,
+      O such a rare tree!
+
+          I wish I were a little bird;
+            All summer long
+          I'd fly so merrily
+            Sing such a song!
+          Song that should never cease
+            While daylight lasted,
+          Wings that should never tire
+            Howe'er they hasted.
+
+
+MOTHER
+
+                 But if you were a little bird--
+                   My baby-blossom.
+                 Nestling so cosily
+                   In mother's bosom,--
+                 A bird, as we see them now,
+                   When the snows harden,
+                 And the wind's blighting breath
+                   Howls round the garden:
+
+    What would you do, poor bird,
+      In winter drear?
+    No nest to creep into,
+      No mother near:
+    Hungry and desolate,
+      Weary and woeful,
+    All the earth bound with frost,
+      All the sky snow-full?
+
+
+CHILD (_thoughtfully_).
+
+              That would be sad, and yet
+                Hear what I'd do--
+              Mother, in winter time
+                I'd come to you!
+              If you can like the birds
+                Spite of their thieving,
+              Give them your trees to build,
+                Garden to live in,
+
+                        I think if I were a bird
+                          When winter comes
+                        I'd trust you, mother dear,
+                          For a few crumbs,
+                        Whether I sang or not,
+                          Were lark, thrush, or starling.--
+
+
+MOTHER (_aside_).
+
+                          Then--Father--I trust _Thee_
+                            With this my darling.
+
+
+THE LITTLE COMFORTER
+
+    "WHAT is wrong with my big brother?"
+        Says the child;
+    For they two had got no mother
+    And she loved him like no other:
+                            If he smiled,
+                    All the world seemed bright and gay
+                    To this happy little May.
+
+    If to her he sharply spoke,
+          This big brother--
+    Then her tender heart nigh broke;
+    But the cruel pain that woke,
+                            She would smother--
+                    As a little woman can;--
+                    Was he not almost a man?
+
+    But when trouble or disgrace
+          Smote the boy,
+    She would lift her gentle face--
+    Surely 'twas her own right place.
+                            To bring joy?
+                      For she loved him--loved him so!
+                      Whether he was good or no
+
+            May be he will never feel
+                Half her love;
+            Wound her, and forget to heal:
+                Idle words are sharp as steel:
+                      But above,
+                I know what the angels say
+                Of this silent little May.
+
+
+DON'T BE AFRAID.
+
+    DON'T be afraid of the dark,
+      My daughter, dear as my soul!
+    You see but a part of the gloomy world,
+      But I--I have seen the whole,
+    And I know each step of the fearsome way,
+    Till the shadows brighten to open day.
+
+    Don't be afraid of pain,
+    My tender little child:
+      When its smart is worst there comes strength to bear,
+    And it seems as if angels smiled,--
+    As I smile, dear, when I hurt you now.
+    In binding up that wound on your brow.
+
+    Don't be afraid of grief,
+      'Twill come--as night follows day,
+    But the bleakest sky has tiny rifts
+    When the stars shine through--as to say
+    Wait, wait a little--till night is o'er
+    And beautiful day come back once more.
+
+    O child, be afraid of sin,
+      But have no other fear,
+    For God's in the dark, as well as the light;
+      And while we can feel Him near,
+    His hand that He gives, His love that He gave,
+      Lead safely, even to the dark of the grave.
+
+
+GIRL AND BOY
+
+          ALFRED is gentle as a girl,
+            But Judith longs to be a boy!
+          Would cut off every pretty curl
+            With eager joy!
+
+          Hates to be called "my dear"--or kissed:
+            For dollies does not care one fig:
+          Goes, sticking hands up to the wrist
+            In jackets big.
+
+          Would like to do whate'er boy can;
+            Play cricket--even to go school:
+          It is so grand to be a man!
+            A girl's a fool!
+
+          But Alfred smiles superior love
+            On all these innocent vagaries.
+          He'd hate a goose! but yet a dove
+            Ah, much more rare is!
+
+          She's anything but dove, good sooth!
+            But she's his dear and only sister:
+          And, had she been a boy, in truth
+            How he'd have missed her.
+
+          So, gradually her folly dies,
+            And she'll consent to be just human,
+          When there shines out of girlish eyes
+            The real Woman.
+
+
+AGNES AT PRAYER
+
+          "OUR Father which art in heaven,"
+              Little Agnes prays,
+          Though her kneeling is but show,
+          Though she is too young to know
+              All, or half she says.
+          God will hear her, Agnes mild,
+          God will love the innocent child.
+
+          "Our Father which art in heaven."
+              She has a father here,
+          Does she think of his kind eyes,
+          Tones that ne'er in anger rise--
+              "Yes, dear," or "No, dear."
+          They will haunt her whole life long
+          Like a sweet pathetic song.
+
+          "Our Father which art in heaven,"
+          Through thy peaceful prayer,
+          Think of the known father's face,
+          Of his bosom, happy place;
+                Safely sheltered there;
+          And so blessed--long may He bless!
+          Think too of the fatherless.
+
+
+GOING TO WORK
+
+    COME along for the work is ready--
+      Rough it may be, rough, tough and hard--
+    But--fourteen years old--stout, strong and steady,
+      Life's game's beginning, lad!--play your card--
+            Come along.
+
+    Mother stands at the door-step crying
+      Well but she has a brave heart too:
+    She'll try to be glad--there's nought like trying,
+      She's proud of having a son like you.
+            Come along.
+
+    Young as she is, her hair is whitening,
+      She has ploughed thro' years of sorrow deep,
+    She looks at her boy, and her eyes are brightening,
+      Shame if ever you make them weep!
+          Come along.
+
+    Bravo! See how the brown cheek flushes!
+      Ready to work as hard as you can?
+    I have always faith in a boy that blushes,
+      None will blush for him, when he's a man.
+          Come along.
+
+
+THREE COMPANIONS
+
+          WE go on our way together,
+            Baby, and dog, and I;
+          Three merry companions,
+            'Neath any sort of sky;
+          Blue as her pretty eyes are,
+            Or gray, like his dear old tail;
+          Be it windy, or cloudy, or stormy,
+            Our courage does never fail.
+
+          Sometimes the snow lies thickly,
+            Under the hedge-row bleak;
+          Then baby cries "Pretty, pretty,"
+            The only word she can speak.
+          Sometimes two rivers of water
+            Run down the muddy lane;
+          Then dog leaps backwards and forwards
+            Barking with might and main.
+
+          Baby's a little lady,
+            Dog is a gentleman brave:
+          If he had two legs as you have
+            He'd kneel to her like a slave;
+          As it is he loves and protects her,
+            As dog and gentleman can;
+          I'd rather be a kind doggie
+            I think, than a brute of a man.
+
+
+THE MOTHERLESS CHILD
+
+    SHE was going home down the lonely street,
+    A widow-woman with weary feet
+    And weary eyes that seldom smiled:
+    She had neither mother, sister, nor child.
+    She earned her bread with a patient heart,
+    And ate it quietly and apart,
+    In her silent home from day to day,
+    No one to say her "ay," or "nay."
+
+    She was going home without care to haste;
+    What should she haste for? On she paced
+    Through the snowy night so bleak and wild,
+    When she thought she heard the cry of a child,
+    A feeble cry, not of hunger or pain,
+    But just of sorrow. It came again.
+    She stopped--she listened--she almost smiled--
+    "That sounds like a wail of a motherless child."
+
+    A house stood open--no soul was there--
+    Her dull, tired feet grew light on the stair;
+    She mounted--entered. One bed on the floor,
+    And Something in it: and close by the door,
+    Watching the stark form, stretched out still,
+    Ignorant knowing not good nor ill,
+    But only a want and a misery wild,
+    Crouched the dead mother's motherless child.
+
+    What next? Come say what would you have done
+    Dear children playing about in the sun,
+    Or sitting by pleasant fireside warm,
+    Hearing outside the howling storm?
+    The widow went in and she shut the door,
+    She stayed by the dead an hour or more--
+    And when she went home through the night so wild,
+    She had in her arms a sleeping child.
+
+    Now she is old and feeble and dull,
+    But her empty heart is happy and full
+    If her crust be hard and her cottage poor
+    There's a young foot tripping across the floor,
+    Young hands to help her that never tire,
+    And a young voice singing beside the fire;
+    And her tired eyes look as if they smiled,--
+    Childless mother and motherless child.
+
+
+THE WREN'S NEST
+
+              I TOOK the wren's nest;--
+              Heaven forgive me!
+          Its merry architects so small
+          Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
+          That empty still and neat and fair
+          Hung idly in the summer air.
+          The mossy walls, the dainty door,
+          Where Love should enter and explore,
+          And Love sit caroling outside,
+          And Love within chirp multiplied;--
+              I took the wren's nest;--
+              Heaven forgive me!
+
+          How many hours of happy pains
+          Through early frosts and April rains,
+          How many songs at eve and morn
+          O'er springing grass and greening corn,
+          Before the pretty house was made!
+          One little minute, only one,
+          And she'll fly back, and find it--gone!
+              I took the wren's nest;--
+              Bird, forgive me!
+
+          Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,
+          Ye have before you all the year,
+          And every wood holds nooks for you,
+          In which to sing and build and woo
+          One piteous cry of birdish pain--
+          And ye'll begin your life again,
+          Forgetting quite the lost, lost home
+          In many a busy home to come--
+          But I?--Your wee house keep I must
+          Until it crumble into dust.
+              I took the wren's nest:
+              God forgive me!
+
+
+A CHILD'S SMILE
+
+    A CHILD'S smile--nothing more;
+    Quiet and soft and grave, and seldom seen,
+    Like summer lightning o'er,
+    Leaving the little face again serene.
+
+    I think, boy well-beloved,
+    Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far
+    Thy childhood is removed
+    From sports that dear to other children are,
+
+    On this pale cheek has thrown
+    The brightness of his countenance, and made
+    A beauty like his own--
+    That, while we see it, we are half afraid,
+
+    And marvel, will it stay?
+    Or, long ere manhood, will that angel fair,
+    Departing some sad day,
+    Steal the child-smile and leave the shadow care?
+
+    Nay, fear not. As is given
+    Unto this child the father watching o'er,
+    His angel up in heaven
+    Beholds Our Father's face for evermore.
+
+    And he will help him bear
+    His burthen, as his father helps him now;
+    So he may come to wear
+    That happy child-smile on an old man's brow.
+
+
+OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY
+
+          A LITTLE bird flew my window by,
+          'Twixt the level street and the level sky,
+          The level rows of houses tall,
+          The long low sun on the level wall
+          And all that the little bird did say
+          Was, "Over the hills and far away."
+
+          A little bird sang behind my chair,
+          From the level line of corn-fields fair,
+          The smooth green hedgerow's level bound
+          Not a furlong off--the horizon's bound,
+          And the level lawn where the sun all day
+          Burns:--"Over the hills and far away."
+
+          A little bird sings above my bed,
+          And I know if I could but lift my head
+          I would see the sun set, round and grand,
+          Upon level sea and level sand,
+          While beyond the misty distance gray
+          Is "Over the hills and far away."
+
+          I think that a little bird will sing
+          Over a grassy mound, next spring,
+          Where something that once was _me_, ye'll leave
+          In the level sunshine, morn and eve:
+          But I shall be gone, past night, past day,
+          Over the hills and far away.
+
+
+THE TWO RAINDROPS
+
+    SAID a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!
+    I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:
+    I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;
+    Swelling and filling and swelling again.
+
+    "All the little rain-drops unto me run,
+    I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:
+    All the pretty children stand and at me stare;
+    Pointing with their fingers--'That's the biggest drop there.'"
+
+    "Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;
+    "I don't myself see much cause for pride:
+    The bigger you swell up,--we know well, my friend,--
+    The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.
+
+    "For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,
+    Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;
+    Looking at the firelight and the children fair,--
+    Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."
+
+    "Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;
+    I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;
+    You'll run a race with me?--No?--Then 'tis plain
+    I am the largest drop in the whole pane."
+
+    Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:
+    Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:
+    Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,
+    Just reached the window-sill--one splash--and was o'er.
+
+
+THE YEAR'S END
+
+    SO grows the rising year, and so declines
+      By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end
+    Even as by slow and ever-varying signs
+      Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend
+      Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.
+
+    Great Father, who of every one takest care,
+      From him on whom full ninety years are piled
+    To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer
+      About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
+      Who children loves, being once himself a child,--
+
+    O make us day by day like Him to grow;
+      More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;
+    Because He loves those who obey Him so;
+      Because His love is the best thing to seek,
+      Because without His love, all loves are weak,--
+
+    All earthly joys are miserable and poor,
+      All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,
+    Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens--sure
+      That they will flourish--till in mid-day skies
+      The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.
+
+    O God, who art alone the life and light
+      Of this strange world to which as babes we come,
+    Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:
+      Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom
+      And at our year's end, Father, take us home.
+
+
+RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW
+
+          "WHY thus aside your playthings throw,
+          Over the wet lawn hurrying so?
+          Where are you going, I want to know?"
+            "I'm running after the rainbow."
+
+          "Little boy, with your bright brown eyes
+          Full of an innocent surprise,
+          Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,
+            What do you want with the rainbow?"
+
+          Arthur paused in his headlong race,
+          Turned to his mother his hot, young face,
+          "Mother, I want to reach the place
+            At either end of the rainbow.
+
+          "Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.
+          Such beautiful things may oft be found
+          Buried below, or scattered round,
+            If one can but catch the rainbow.
+
+          "O please don't hinder me, mother dear,
+          It will all be gone while I stay here;"
+          So with many a hope and not one fear,
+            The child ran after the rainbow.
+
+          Over the damp grass, ankle deep,
+          Clambering up the hilly steep,
+          And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,
+            But he couldn't catch the rainbow.
+
+          And when he came out at the wood's far side,
+          The sun was setting in golden pride,
+          There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,
+            But not a sign of the rainbow.
+
+          Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,
+          "I wish I had thought what mother meant;
+          I wish I had only been content,
+            And not ran after the rainbow."
+
+          And as he came sadly down the hill,
+          Stood mother scolding--but smiling still,
+          And hugged him up close, as mothers will:
+            So he quite forgot the rainbow.
+
+
+DICK AND I
+
+    WE'RE going to a party, my brother Dick and I:
+    The best, grandest party we ever did try:
+    And I'm very happy--but Dick is so shy!
+
+    I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,
+    And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:
+    Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!
+
+    There is to be music--a real soldier's band:
+    And _I_ mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,
+    Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.
+
+    But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:
+    Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try--
+    Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.
+
+    And I'm fond of my brother--this darling old Dick:
+    I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,
+    He's bad at a party--but at school he's a brick!
+
+    So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,
+    Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!
+    Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.
+
+    And his going to the party is just to please _me_,
+    Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!
+    But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."
+
+    That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.
+    Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;
+    I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.
+
+    And when he's a great man, a poet you see,
+    O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;
+    Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.
+
+
+GRANDPAPA
+
+    GRANDPAPA lives at the end of the lane,
+    His cottage is small and its furniture plain;
+    No pony to ride on, no equipage grand,--
+    A garden, and just half an acre of land;
+    No dainties to dine off, and very few toys,--
+    Yet is grandpapa's house the delight of the boys.
+
+    Grandpapa once lived in one little room,
+    Grandpapa worked all day long at his loom:
+    He speaks with queer accent, does dear grandpapa,
+    And not half so well as papa and mamma.
+    The girls think his clothes are a little rough,
+    But the boys all declare they can't love him enough.
+
+    A man of the people in manners and mind,
+    Yet so honest, so tender, so clever, so kind:
+    Makes the best of his lot still, where'er it be cast.
+    A sturdy old Englishman, game to the last.
+    Though simple and humble and unknown to fame,
+    It's good luck to the boys to bear grandpapa's name!
+
+
+MONSIEUR ET MADEMOISELLE.
+
+          DEUX petits enfants Francais,
+            Monsieur et Mademoiselle.
+          Of what can they be talking, child?
+            Indeed I cannot tell.
+          But of this I am very certain,
+            You would find naught to blame
+          In that sweet French politeness--
+            I wish we had the same.
+
+          Monsieur has got a melon,
+            And scoops it with his knife,
+          While Mademoiselle sits watching him:
+            No rudeness here--no strife:
+          Though could you listen only,
+            They're chattering like two pies--
+          French magpies, understand me--
+            So merry and so wise.
+
+          Their floor is bare of carpet,
+            Their curtains are so thin,
+          They dine on meagre _potage_, and
+            Put many an onion in!
+          Her snow-white caps she irons:
+            He blacks his shoes, he can;
+          Yet she's a little lady
+            And he's a gentleman.
+
+          O busy, happy children!
+            That light French heart of yours,
+          Would it might sometimes enter at
+            Our solemn English doors!
+          Would that we worked as gaily,
+            And played, yes, played as well,
+          And lived our lives as simply
+            As Monsieur et Mademoiselle.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+YOUNG DANDELION
+
+          YOUNG Dandelion
+            On a hedge-side,
+          Said young Dandelion,
+            "Who'll be my bride?
+
+          "I'm a bold fellow
+            As ever was seen,
+          With my shield of yellow,
+            In the grass green.
+
+          "You may uproot me,
+            From field and from lane,
+          Trample me, cut me,--
+            I spring up again.
+
+          "I never flinch, Sir,
+            Wherever I dwell;
+          Give me an inch, Sir.
+            I'll soon take an ell.
+
+          "Drive me from garden
+            In anger and pride,
+          I'll thrive and harden
+            By the road-side.
+
+          "Not a bit fearful,
+            Showing my face,
+          Always so cheerful
+            In every place."
+
+          Said young Dandelion,
+            With a sweet air,
+          "I have my eye on
+            Miss Daisy fair.
+
+          "Though we may tarry
+            Till past the cold,
+          Her I will marry
+            Ere I grow old.
+
+          "I will protect her
+            From all kinds of harm,
+          Feed her with nectar,
+            Shelter her warm.
+
+          "Whate'er the weather,
+            Let it go by;
+          We'll hold together,
+            Daisy and I.
+
+          "I'll ne'er give in,--no!
+            Nothing I fear:
+          All that I win, O!
+            I'll keep for my dear."
+
+          Said young Dandelion
+            On his hedge-side,
+          "Who'll me rely on?
+            Who'll be my bride?"
+
+
+A SEPTEMBER ROBIN
+
+    MY eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,
+          Amid these days so bright
+          Of ceaseless warmth and light;
+          Summer that will not die,
+          Autumn, without one sigh
+          O'er sweet hours passing by--
+          Cometh that tender note
+          Out of thy tiny throat,
+    Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,
+    O little plaintive bird!
+
+    No need of word
+    Well know I all your tale--forgotten bird!
+          Soon you and I together
+          Must face the winter weather,
+          Remembering how we sung
+          Our primrose fields among,
+          In days when life was young;
+          Now, all is growing old,
+          And the warm earth's a-cold,
+    Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,
+    Sing only. Not one word.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Text uses both tablecloth and table-cloth.
+
+Page 8, "tidiness,and" changed to "tidiness, and" (liked tidiness, and)
+
+Page 12, "agan" changed to "again" (to the table again)
+
+Page 25, "Gradener" changed to "Gardener" (cried the Gardener)
+
+Page 29, "shown" changed to "shone" (shone with dew)
+
+Page 32, "it" changed to "if" (as if the old)
+
+Page 36, "like" changed to "liked" (liked all young things)
+
+Page 35, "sate" changed to "state" (a pretty state of)
+
+Page 49, "it" changed to "if" (as if there was)
+
+Page 50, "f" changed to "if" (presently, if you)
+
+Page 57, "altogetherwas" changed to "altogether was" (altogether was
+such)
+
+Page 60, word "a" added to text (it was a bright)
+
+Page 68, "plaee" changed to "place" (place is bewitched)
+
+Page 71, illustration, "suddenl" changed to "suddenly" (ice suddenly
+broke)
+
+Page 78, "bakset" changed to "basket" (basket is too heavy)
+
+Page 78, "bolws" changed to "blows" (very hard blows)
+
+Page 79, "it" changed to "is" (is; that nasty)
+
+Page 80, "donwward" changed to "downward" (their necks downward)
+
+Page 97, "theives" changed to "thieves" (all young thieves)
+
+Page 99, "fairy a tale" changed to "a fairy tale" (you want a fairy
+tale)
+
+Page 113, "ma n" changed to "main" (with might and main)
+
+Page 116, "al" changed to "all" (you all the year)
+
+Page 116, "bui d" changed to "build" (build and woo)
+
+Page 116, "du t" changed to "dust" (crumble into dust)
+
+Page 116, "SMIL" changed to "SMILE" (A CHILD'S SMILE)
+
+Page 120, "hedgegrow's" changed to "hedgerow's" (hedgerow's level bound)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of A Brownie, by Miss Mulock
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 19:53:52 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 19:53:52 -0700
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