"Hurrah!" said Tommy. "Where do they live?"
"In your house," said the Owl.
Tommy was aghast.
"In our house!" he exclaimed. "Whereabouts? Let me rummage them out. Why do they do nothing?"
"One of them is too young," said the Owl.
"But why doesn't the other work?" asked Tommy.
"He is idle, he is idle," said the Owl, and she gave herself such a shake as she said it that the fluff went flying through the shed, and Tommy nearly tumbled off the beam in fright.
"Then we don't want him," said he. "What is the use of having brownies if they do nothing to help us? But perhaps if you would tell me where to find them," said Tommy, "I could tell them what to do."
"Could you?" said the Owl. "Oohoo! oohoo!" and Tommy couldn't tell whether she were hooting or laughing.
"Of course I could," he said. "They might be up and sweep the house, and light the fire, and spread the tables, and that sort of thing, before Father came down. The Brownie did all that in Granny's mother's young days. And they might tidy the room, and fetch the turf, and pick up my chips, and sort Granny's scraps. Oh! there's plenty to do."
