"He's here," said Tommy; "we are the Brownies."

"Can't you stop that fooling?" cried the Tailor, angrily. "This is past
a joke. Where is the real Brownie, I say?"

"We are the only Brownies, really, Father," said Tommy, coming to a
full stop, and feeling strongly tempted to run down from laughing to
crying. "Ask the Old Owl. It's true, really."

The Tailor saw the boy was in earnest, and passed his hand over his
forehead.

"I suppose I'm getting old," he said; "I can't see daylight through
this. If you are the Brownie, who has been tidying the kitchen lately?"

"We have," said they.

"But who found my measure?"

"I did," said Johnnie.

"And who sorts your grandmother's scraps?"

"We do," said they.

"And who sets breakfast, and puts my things in order?"

"We do," said they.