butterman afterward read about "Art" and "The Drama" in his evening paper, they all believed it came from the tub.
But the little brownie could not sit quiet and listen any longer to all the wisdom and arguing down in the shop. As soon as the light shone out from the garret, he felt as if the rays were strong ropes which drew him up there; and he had to go and peep through the keyhole, and then a feeling of vastness came over him, such as we experience at the sight of the rolling ocean when the storm sweeps over it, and he burst into tears. He did not know why he cried, but he found some comfort in these tears. How wonderfully delightful it must be to sit with the student under that tree, but it could not be — he would have to be content with the keyhole. There he was standing on the cold landing, while the autumn wind blew down through the trap-door in the loft above him. It was so cold, so very cold; but the little brownie only felt it when the light in the garret was put out, and when the tones of the music died away. Ugh! How he shivered! He then crept down again to his snug little corner where it was so pleasant and comfortable ! And when the Christmas porridge came with a big lump of butter in the middle — ah, then the butterman's was the best place after all.
But in the middle of the night the brownie was awakened by a terrific noise against the shutters, caused by the people outside knocking and thundering away at them, while the watchmen were blowing their whistles. A big fire had broken out, and the whole street was enveloped in flames. Was the fire in this house, or in the neighbor's? Where? It was a terrible moment! The butterman's wife was so bewildered that she took her gold earrings out of her ears and put them in her pocket, in order to save something; the butterman ran to fetch his bonds and shares, and the servant girl to save her silk mantilla, which she had just managed to buy out of her savings. Every one wanted to save the best they possessed, and the brownie became possessed by the same desire; in a couple of bounds he was up the stairs and in the student's garret. The student was standing quite calmly at the open window, looking at the fire which was raging in the house opposite. The little brownie seized the wonderful book that was lying on the table, put it inside his red cap, and held it tightly to his bosom with both hands. The most valuable treasure in the house had been saved, and he rushed off with it, right out upon the roof, to the top of the chimney. There he sat, illuminated by the burning house opposite, and holding his hands on his red cap in which the treasure lay. Now he knew where his sympathies lay, and to whom he really belonged; but when the fire had been put out and he was himself again — well: "I shall have to divide myself between the two," he said, "I cannot quite give up the butterman because of the porridge!"
And, after all, it is only human! We all of us go to the butterman — for the sake of the porridge.
