In those days, before hard coal fires had come in use, chimney-sweepers were often employed. They were small boys, working under the orders of a master in the business, who was very often a hard master. Generally they were negroes; but, whether so or not, they soon became so black with soot, that you could not tell them from negroes. The chimney-sweepers always came early in the morning, before the fires were lighted; and their coming was a great event to the children of a household. "When a child," says a famous English writer, speaking of the chimney-sweepers of London, "what a mysterious pleasure it was to witness their operation!--to see a chit no bigger than one's self enter into that dark hole--to pursue him in imagination, as he went sounding on through so many stifling caverns--to shudder with the idea, that 'now surely he must be lost forever!'--to revive at hearing his feeble shout of discovered daylight,--and then (oh, fulness of delight!) running out of doors, to come just in time to see him emerge in safety!" There are chimney-sweepers even now; but none of the old-fashioned kind. In many places it is forbidden by law to send boys up the chimneys. So the modern chimney-sweeper puts his brush on the end of a pole, which is made in joints, like a fishing-rod, and, by attaching joint after joint, thrusts it farther and farther up the chimney. [Illustration: THE MODERN CHIMNEY-SWEEPER.] [Illustration] TOM-TIT. WHAT is it? What is it? Only a feather Blown by the wind In this cold stormy weather, Hunted and hurried so Hither and thither? Leaf or a feather, I know not if either. There, hark now, and see! 'Tis alight on a tree, And sings, "Chick-a-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee!" I know it! you know it! 'Tis little Tom-tit. Look at it! Look at it Flutter and hover! Only a tuft of down On it for cover! Only a bare bough To shelter it over! Poor little rover, Snow-fields for clover Are all that you see! Yet listen the glee Of its "chick-a-dee-dee, Chick a-dee-dee!" Hark to it! look at it! Little Tom-tit! How is it? Why is it? Like a snow-flurry, With swish of wings, And a swoop and a scurry, Comes a whole flock of them Now in a hurry! Busy and merry The little things, very; Watch them, and see How blithe they can be With their "Chick-a-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee!" Each one such a bit Of a little Tom-tit! MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES. [Illustration] NELLY'S FIRST LESSON IN DANCING.