The Legend of Archinal

The whole house was quiet, nothing could be heard, except for the patter of the brownies feet. He jumped onto the counter and though there was no food in sight, he was not dismayed, he knew where to find some delectable treats. Without much delay he climbed inside one of the cupboards and behold there was the grub he was looking for. The woman had left him a plate of food, fresh bread, cookies and a large glass of buttermilk. He ate everything, patted his belly and got down from the cupboard onto the floor. He headed back to the living room where his work awaited.

Not all brownies are all alike, some lived as hermits deep in the forests, or inhabiting logs. Others lived among humans, abiding in houses, aiding in tasks in exchange for food. It is said they enjoy porridge and honey, others prefer cakes and cookies while some just fancy buttermilk. Brownies who choose to live among humans are jolly and gregarious while those who lived in isolation are timid and sometimes unfriendly to strangers. Nevertheless, Bedrich as he was called by his family and friends was a jovial little fellow who enjoyed his solitude as all brownies did among humans. He had a bounce to his gait, despite his large girth.  His favorite time was when he was busy at work. Bedrich made the most beautiful frocks anyone had ever seen. They were marvelous indeed. The woman and her grandchild wore these dresses since they could not afford to buy their own and barely had time to make them. Bedrich was happy to oblige them with frocks.

Bedrich pranced back into the living room and stopped before the headless mannequin he had passed before. It was wrapped in a ragged dress that belonged to someone at some time. He took down the dress and without a struggle carried it back into the hole. He sat at his working chair in front of his wooden table where a single candle lit his area. He closely looked at the dress, inspected it, turned it over and saw that it was once a very pretty blue color. With his nimble hands, a needle and a thread, he began to mend the tattered frock. He pulled and sowed, and buried his brows in thought as he busied himself all night.

Before the sun was set to rise, he finished the frock with a final tug of the needle and tore off the rest of the thread. He quickly snuck back into the quiet living room and dressed the mannequin with the beautiful, blue dress. From the floor, he admired his work with great contentment. The old blue dress was no longer tattered and faded but new and whole as if it had never been worn at all. Indeed he was quite pleased with himself

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