THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived—where do you think he lived? in a coal-cellar.
Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature—a fairy, and yet not one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer1 wings, and dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar? He is a sober, stay-at-home, household elf—nothing much to look at, even if you did see him, which you are not likely to do—only 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. And, 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 said you were not likely to see him. I never did, certainly, and never knew any body that did; but still, 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, who belonged to a family there; which family he had followed from house to house, most faithfully, for years and years.
A good many people had heard him—or supposed they had—when there were extraordinary noises about the house; noises which must have come from a mouse or a rat—or a Brownie. But nobody 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, though he was such an old man—hundreds of years old! He was full of fun and mischief2, and up to all sorts of tricks, but he never did any body any harm unless they deserved it.
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 lived upon. Except that, 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—perhaps he didn't: anyhow, the bowl was always found empty next morning. The old Cook, who had lived all her life in the family, had never forgotten to give Brownie his supper; but at last she died, and a young cook came in her stead, who was very apt to forget every thing. She was also both careless and lazy, and disliked taking the trouble to put a bowl of milk in the same place every night for Mr. Nobody. "She didn't believe in Brownies," she said; "she had never seen one, and seeing's believing." So she laughed at the other servants, who looked very grave, and put the bowl of milk in its place as often as they could, without saying much about it.
But once, when Brownie woke up, at his usual hour for rising—ten o'clock at night, and looked round in search of his supper—which was, in fact, his breakfast—he found nothing there. At first he could not imagine such neglect, and went smelling and smelling about for his bowl of milk—it was not always placed in the same corner now—but in vain.
"This will never do," said he; and being extremely 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 pussy3-cat's; but there was nothing to be seen—not even a potato paring, or a dry crust, or a well-gnawed5 bone, such as Tiny the terrier sometimes brought into the coal-cellar and left on the floor—nothing, in short, but heaps of coals and coal-dust; and even a Brownie cannot eat that, you know.
"Can't stand this; quite impossible!" said the Brownie, tightening6 his belt to make his poor little inside feel less empty. He had been asleep so long—about a week, I believe, as was his habit when there was nothing to do—that he seemed ready to eat his own head, or his boots, or any thing. 'What's to be done? Since nobody brings my supper, I must go and fetch it.'
He spoke7 quickly, for he always thought quickly, and made up his mind in a minute. To be sure it was a very little mind, like his little body; but he did the best he could with it, and was not a bad sort of old fellow, after all. In the house he had never done any harm, and often some good, for he frightened away all the rats, mice, and black-beetles. Not the crickets—he liked them, as the old Cook had done: she said they were such cheerful creatures, and always brought luck to the house. But the young Cook could not bear them, and used to pour boiling water down their holes, and set basins of beer for them with little wooden bridges up to the brim, that they might walk up, tumble in, and be drowned.
So 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. Old Cook used to lock it every night, but the young Cook had left that key, and the kitchen and pantry keys too, all dangling8 in the lock, so that any thief might have got in, and wandered all over the house without being found out.
"Hurrah9, here's luck!" cried Brownie, tossing his cap up in the air, and bounding right through the scullery into the kitchen. It was quite empty, but there was a good fire burning itself out—just for its own amusement, and the remains10 of a capital supper spread on the table—enough for half a dozen people being left still.
Would you like to know what there was? Devonshire cream, of course; and part of a large dish of junket, which is something like curds11 and whey. Lots of bread-and-butter and cheese, and half an apple-pudding. Also a great jug12 of cider and another of milk, and several half-full glasses, and no end of dirty plates, knives, and forks. All were scattered13 about the table in the most untidy fashion, just as the servants had risen from their supper, without thinking to put any thing away.
Brownie screwed up his little old face and turned up his 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 pranks14 upon disorderly or slovenly15 folk.
He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!—Page 11 He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat!—Page 11
"Whew!" said he; "here's a chance. What a supper I'll get now!"
And he jumped on to a chair and thence to the table, but so quietly that the large black cat with four white paws, called Muff, because she was so fat and soft and her fur so long, who sat dozing16 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 didn't 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 hearth17.
But Brownie had no notion of going to sleep. He wanted his supper, and oh! what a supper he did eat! first one thing and then another, and then trying every thing all over again. And oh! what a lot he drank—first milk and then cider, and then mixed the two together in a way that would have disagreed with any body except a Brownie. As it was, he was obliged to slacken his belt several times, and at last took it off altogether. But he must have had a most extraordinary capacity for eating and drinking—since, after he had nearly cleared the table, he was just as lively as if he had had no supper at all.
Now his jumping was a little awkward, for there happened to be a clean white tablecloth18: as this was only Monday, it had had no time to get dirty—untidy as the Cook was. And 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 the impression behind, until at last the whole tablecloth was covered with black marks.
Not that he minded this; in fact, he took great pains to make the cloth as dirty as possible; and then laughing loudly, "Ho, ho, ho!" leaped on to the hearth, and began teasing the cat; squeaking19 like a mouse, or chirping20 like a cricket, or buzzing like a fly; and altogether disturbing 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 slight noise overhead, which might be the servants getting up, he jumped on to the table again—gobbled up the few remaining crumbs21 for his breakfast, and scampered22 off to his coal-cellar; where he hid himself under his big coal, and fell asleep for the day.
Well, the Cook came downstairs rather earlier than usual, for she remembered she had to clear off the remains of supper; but lo and behold23, there was nothing left to clear. Every bit of food was eaten up—the cheese looked as if a dozen mice had been nibbling24 at it, and nibbled25 it down to the very rind; the milk and cider were all drunk—and mice don't care for milk and cider, you know. As for the apple-pudding, it had vanished altogether; and the dish was licked as clean as if Boxer26, the yard-dog, had been at it in his hungriest mood.
"And my white table-cloth—oh, my clean white table-cloth! What can have been done to it?" cried she, in amazement27. For it was all over little black footmarks, just the size of a baby's foot—only babies don't wear shoes with nails in them, and don't run about and climb on kitchen tables after all the family have gone to bed.
Cook was a little frightened; but her fright changed to anger when she saw the large black cat stretched comfortably on the hearth. Poor Muff had crept there for a little snooze after Brownie went away.
"You nasty cat! I see it all now; it's you that have eaten up all the supper; it's you that have been on my clean table-cloth with your dirty paws."
Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away Cook beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away
They were white paws, and as clean as possible; but the Cook never thought of that, any more than she did of the fact that cats don't usually drink cider or eat apple-pudding.
"I'll teach you to come stealing food in this way; take that—and that—and that!"
Cook got hold of a broom and beat poor Pussy till the creature ran mewing away. She couldn't speak, you know—unfortunate cat! and tell people that it was Brownie who had done it all.
Next night Cook thought she would make all safe and sure; so, instead of letting the cat sleep by the fire, she shut her up in the chilly28 coal-cellar, locked the door, put the key in her pocket, and went off to bed—leaving the supper as before.
When Brownie woke up and looked out of his hole, there was, as usual, no supper for him, and the cellar was close shut. He peered about, to try and find some cranny under the door to creep out at, but there was none. And he felt so hungry that he could almost have eaten the cat, who kept walking to and fro in a melancholy29 manner—only she was alive, and he couldn't well eat her alive: besides, he knew she was old, and had an idea she might be tough; so he merely said, politely, "How do you do, Mrs. Pussy?" to which she answered nothing—of course.
Something must be done, and luckily Brownies can do things which nobody else can do. So he thought he would change himself into a mouse, and gnaw4 a hole through the door. But then he suddenly remembered the cat, who, though he had decided30 not to eat her, might take this opportunity of eating him. So he thought it advisable to wait till she was fast asleep, which did not happen for a good while. At length, quite tired with walking about, Pussy turned round on her tail six times, curled down in a corner, and fell fast asleep.
Immediately Brownie changed himself into the smallest mouse possible; and, taking care not to make the least noise, gnawed a hole in the door, and squeezed himself through, immediately turning into his proper shape again, for fear of accidents.
The kitchen fire was at its last glimmer31; but it showed a better supper than even last night, for the Cook had had friends with her—a brother and two cousins—and they had been exceedingly merry. The food they had left behind was enough for three Brownies at least, but this one managed to eat it all up. Only once, in trying to cut a great slice of beef, he let the carving-knife and fork fall with such a clatter32, that Tiny the terrier, who was tied up at the foot of the stairs, began to bark furiously. However, he brought her her puppy, which had been left in a basket in a corner of the kitchen, and so succeeded in quieting her.
After that he enjoyed himself amazingly, and made more marks than ever on the white table-cloth; for he began jumping about like a pea on a trencher, in order to make his particularly large supper agree with him.
Then, in the absence of the cat, he teased the puppy for an hour or two, till hearing the clock strike five, he thought it as well to turn into a mouse again, and creep back cautiously into his cellar. He was only just in time, for Muff opened one eye, and was just going to pounce33 upon him, when he changed himself back into a Brownie. She was so startled that she bounded away, her tail growing into twice its natural size, and her eyes gleaming like round green globes. But Brownie only said, "Ha, ha, ho!" and walked deliberately34 into his hole.
When Cook came downstairs and saw that the same thing had happened again—that the supper was all eaten, and the table-cloth blacker than ever with the extraordinary footmarks, she was greatly puzzled. Who could have done it all? Not the cat, who came mewing out of the coal-cellar the minute she unlocked the door. Possibly a rat—but then would a rat have come within reach of Tiny?
"It must have been Tiny herself, or her puppy," which just came rolling out of its basket over Cook's feet. "You little wretch35! You and your mother are the greatest nuisance imaginable. I'll punish you!"
And, quite forgetting that Tiny had been safely tied up all night, and that her poor little puppy was so fat and helpless it could scarcely stand on its legs, to say nothing of jumping on chairs and tables, she gave them both such a thrashing that they ran howling together out of the kitchen door, where the kind little kitchen-maid took them up in her arms.
"You ought to have beaten the Brownie, if you could catch him," said she, in a whisper. "He will do it again and again, you'll see, for he can't bear an untidy kitchen. You'd better do as poor old Cook did, and clear the supper things away, and put the odds36 and ends safe in the larder37; also," she added, mysteriously, "if I were you, I'd put a bowl of milk behind the coal-cellar door."
"Nonsense!" answered the young Cook, and flounced away. But afterward38 she thought better of it, and did as she was advised, grumbling39 all the time, but doing it.
Next morning the milk was gone! Perhaps Brownie had drunk it up, anyhow nobody could say that he hadn't. As for the supper, Cook having safely laid it on the shelves of the larder, nobody touched it. And the table-cloth, which was wrapped up tidily and put in the dresser drawer, came out as clean as ever, with not a single black footmark upon it. No mischief being done, the cat and the dog both escaped beating, and Brownie played no more tricks with any body—till the next time.
该作者的其它作品
《The Little Lame Prince瘸腿王子》
该作者的其它作品
《The Little Lame Prince瘸腿王子》
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1
gossamer
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| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
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2
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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3
pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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4
gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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5
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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6
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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7
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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8
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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9
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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10
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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11
curds
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| n.凝乳( curd的名词复数 ) | |
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12
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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13
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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14
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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15
slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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16
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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17
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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18
tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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19
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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chirping
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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21
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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24
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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26
boxer
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| n.制箱者，拳击手 | |
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27
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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28
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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29
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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30
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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31
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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32
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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33
pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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34
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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35
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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36
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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37
larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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38
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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39
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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