She could speak, then! Beyond all doubt it was _the_ Old Owl, and none
other. Tommy shuddered.

"Come up here! come up here!" said the Old Owl.

The Old Owl sat on a beam that ran across the shed. Tommy had often
climbed up for fun; and he climbed up now, and sat face to face with
her, and thought her eyes looked as if they were made of flame.

"Kiss my fluffy face," said the Owl.

Her eyes were going round like flaming catherine wheels, but there are
certain requests which one has not the option of refusing. Tommy crept
nearer, and put his lips to the round face out of which the eyes shone.
Oh! it was so downy and warm, so soft, so indescribably soft. Tommy's
lips sank into it, and couldn't get to the bottom. It was unfathomable
feathers and fluffiness.

"Now, what do you want?" said the Owl.

"Please," said Tommy, who felt rather re-assured, "can you tell me
where to find the Brownies, and how to get one to come and live with
us?"

"Oohoo!" said the Owl, "that's it, is it? I know of three Brownies."

"Hurrah!" said Tommy. "Where do they live?"

"In your house," said the Owl.