“Don’t they look splendid?” said Tommy, feeling the cloth. “When we’ve tidied the place I shall put them on.”
But long before the place was tidy, he could wait no longer, and dressed up.
“Look at me!” he shouted; “bottle-green and brass buttons! Oh, Johnnie, I wish you had some.”
“It’s a good thing there are two Brownies,” said Johnnie, laughing, “and one of them in rags still. I shall do the work this morning.” And he went flourishing round with a broom, while Tommy jumped madly about in his new suit. “Hurrah!” he shouted, “I feel just like the Brownie. What was it Grannie said he sang when he got his clothes? Oh, I know—
‘What have we here? Hemten hamten,
Here will I never more tread nor stampen.’ ”
And on he danced, regardless of the clouds of dust raised by Johnnie, as he drove the broom indiscriminately over the floor, to the tune of his own laughter.
It was laughter which roused the Tailor that morning, laughter coming through the floor from the kitchen below. He scrambled on his things and stole down stairs.
“It’s the Brownie,” he thought; “I must look, if it’s for the last time.”
At the door he paused and listened. The laughter was mixed with singing, and he heard the words—