“Aye, that they are!” said the woman. “But it is not the Brownies that would hurt you. They are kind little creatures who would help instead of harm you.”
“I would like to see them,” said Florimel reflectively. “Many a night as I lay in my bed have I dreamed of the Brownies.”
“See them you cannot,” said the woman decidedly, “since you have not second sight. Many have tried to see the Brownies, but they have failed through lack of supernatural vision. But there are Brownies nevertheless, and they go everywhere. Of that we have abundant proof, have we not, husband?”
“Aye!” said the farmer. “Once when I lay flat upon my back, and the grain in the field was in danger of rot, the Brownies came one night and harvested it. In the morning it was all cut and stacked.”
“Yes,” the good wife hastened to add, “and that very same night they churned the cream to butter.”
“Are you sure the Brownies did it?” asked Florimel, in surprise. “Who else but the Brownies?” said the farmer positively. “We had set a bowl of cream for that is all they ask, and next morning the cream was gone. Wife, show him the bowl!”
The woman thereupon exhibited an empty blue delf bowl, and Florimel was convinced. He rose with his hosts from the table, and went to the doorway from which he gazed to the far line of woods that now held such charm for him.
“Let me pay you my faring, good people,” he said, “for I would be on my way.”
“Nay, there is naught you owe us,” said the farmer, “for you have been a welcome guest. You are a fine young lad, and I have a fancy for you. You had better bide here with us. There is work for you to do for your board and lodging. I need someone to tend the sheep.”