“There’s a many cur’ous things in the world,” he said; “cur’ouser than that.”
“There ain’t no such things as brownies, though,” said Lilac, with decision; “nor yet ghosts, nor yet witches, nor yet any of them things as Grannie Dunch tells about.”
Peter was silent.
“Is there?” she repeated with another nudge of the elbow.
“I don’t says as there is,” he answered slowly.
“Of course not!” exclaimed Lilac triumphantly.
“And I don’t say as there isn’t,” finished Peter in exactly the same voice.
This unexpected conclusion quite took Lilac’s breath away. She stared speechlessly at her cousin, and he presently went on in a reflective tone with his eyes still fixed on the horse’s ears:
“It’s been a wonderful lucky year, there’s no denying. Hay turned out well, corn’s going to be good. More eggs, more milk, better butter, bees swarmed early.”
“But,” put in Lilac, “Aunt sprained her ankle, and the colt went lame, and you had to sell None-so-pretty. That wasn’t lucky. Why didn’t the brownie hinder that?”