BROWNIE AND THE COOK

PART I

There was once a little Brownie, and where do you think he lived? In a coal-cellar.

Now a coal-cellar may seem a curious place to choose for a home; but then a Brownie is a curious creature. He is a fairy, and yet not one of that sort of fairies who fly about and dance in the moonlight. He is 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. 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 never saw him and never knew anybody that did; but 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. He belonged to a family there and had followed them from house to house, most faithfully, for years and years.

A good many people had heard him, or supposed they had, when there were strange noises about the house. But no one 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. He was full of fun and mischief but never did any one any harm unless it was deserved.

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 ate. But 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, and perhaps he did not. Anyhow, the bowl was always found empty next morning.

The old Cook, who had lived all her life in the family had never once forgotten to give Brownie his supper. But at last she died and a young Cook came in her place who was forgetful. She was careless and lazy, also, and did not like to take the trouble to put a bowl of milk in the same place every night for Mr. Nobody. She did not believe in Brownies, she said. She had never seen one and "seeing is believing." So she laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave; and they put the bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying much about it.

But once, when Brownie woke up and looked round in search of his supper, he found nothing there. At first he could not imagine such neglect, and went smelling about for his bowl of milk, but in vain.

"This will never do," said he; and, being very

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. There was nothing but heaps of coal and coaldust, and even a Brownie can not eat that, you know.

"I can't stand this, it is quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening his belt to make him feel less empty. He had been asleep so long that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his boots, or any thing. What is to be done? Since nobody brings my supper, I must go and fetch it."

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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. The old Cook locked 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.

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Hurrah, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the air and bounding into the kitchen. It was quite empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out just for its own amusement. The remains of a fine supper were spread on the table, and enough for half a dozen people was there.

up his

Brownie screwed up his little old face, turned 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 untidy people.

"Whew!" said he, "here's a chance. What a supper I shall get now!"

He jumped up on a chair and then to the table, but so quietly, that Muff, the large black cat with four white paws, 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 did not 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 had! He

ate first one thing and then another, and then tried everything all over again. And oh! what a lot he drank! First he drank milk and then he drank cider, and then mixed the two together in a way that would have disagreed with anybody except a Brownie. As it was, he had to loosen his belt several times and at last took it off altogether. Nothing seemed to disagree with him; and after he had nearly cleared the table he was as lively as ever, and began jumping about on the table 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 on the table. As this was only Monday, it had had no time to get dirty, untidy as the Cook was. 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 his footprint, until at last the whole tablecloth was covered with black marks.

He did not mind this in the least. In fact, he took great pains to make the cloth as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, he leaped down upon the hearth and began to tease the cat. He squeaked like a mouse, or chirped like a cricket, or buzzed like a fly; and altogether disturbed 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 noise overhead, which might be the