homestead!"

And the Doctor's mouth twitched a little till he fixed it into a stiff
smile.

The children tried hard to extract some more ends out of him on the way
to the Rectory; but he declined to pursue the history of the Trout
family through indefinite generations. It was decided on all hands,
however, that Tommy Trout was evidently one and the same with the Tommy
Trout who pulled the cat out of the well, because "it was just a sort
of thing for a Brownie to do, you know!" and that Johnnie Green (who,
of course, was not Johnnie Trout) was some unworthy village
acquaintance, and "a thorough Boggart."

"Doctor!" said Tiny, as they stood by the garden-gate, "how long do you
think gentlemen's pocket-handkerchiefs take to wear out?"

"That, my dear Madam," said the Doctor, "must depend, like other
terrestrial matters, upon circumstances; whether the gentleman bought
fine cambric, or coarse cotton with pink portraits of the reigning
Sovereign, to commence with; whether he catches many colds, has his
pockets picked, takes snuff, or allows his washerwoman to use washing
powders. But why do you want to know?"

"I sha'n't tell you that," said Tiny, who was spoilt by the Doctor, and
consequently tyrannized in proportion; "but I will tell you what I mean
to do. I mean to tell Mother that when Father wants any more
pocket-handkerchiefs hemmed, she had better put them by the bath in the
nursery, and perhaps some Brownie will come and do them."