ses, boys are, I am afraid, as a general rule, somewhat
behindhand with their sisters. Whether this altogether proceeds from
constitutional deficiency on these points in the masculine character,
or is one result among many of the code of bye-laws which obtains in
men's moral education from the cradle, is a question on which everybody
has their own opinion. For the present the young gentlemen may
appropriate whichever theory they prefer, and we will go back to the
story. The Tailor lived to see his boy-Brownies become men, with all
the cares of a prosperous farm on their hands, and his girl-Brownie
carry her fairy talents into another home. For these Brownies--young
ladies!--are much desired as wives, whereas a man might as well marry
an old witch as a young Boggartess."

"And about the Owl?" clamoured the children, rather resentful of the
Doctor's pausing to take breath.

"Of course," he continued, "the Tailor heard the whole story, and being
both anxious to thank the Old Owl for her friendly offices, and also
rather curious to see and hear her, he went with the boys one night at
moon-rise to the shed by the mere. It was earlier in the evening than
when Tommy went, for before daylight had vanished, and at the first
appearance of the moon, the impatient Tailor was at the place. There
they found the Owl looking very solemn and stately on the beam. She was
sitting among the shadows with her shoulders up, and she fixed her eyes
so steadily on the Tailor, that he felt quite overpowered. He made her
a civil bow, however, and said,

"I'm much obliged to you, Ma'am, for your good advice to my Tommy."

The Owl blinked sharply, as if she grudged shutting her eyes for an
instant, and then stared on, but not a word spoke she.

"I don't mean to intrude, Ma'am," said the Tailor, "but I was wishful
to pay my respects and gratitude."

Still the Owl gazed in determined silence.

"Don't you remember me?" said Tommy pitifully. "I did everything you
told me. Won't you even say good-bye?" and he went up towards her.

The Owl's eyes contracted, she shuddered a few tufts of fluff into the
shed, shook her wings, and shouting "Oohoo!" at the top of her voice,
flew out upon the moor. The Tailor and his sons rushed out to watch
her. They could see her clearly against the green twilight sky,
flapping rapidly away with her round face to the pale moon. "Good-bye!"
they shouted as she disappeared; first the departing owl, then a
shadowy body