Chimney sweeps -- Juvenile fiction; Fairy tales -- England
And looking round, he suddenly saw, standing close to him, a little ugly,
black, ragged figure, with bleared eyes and grinning white teeth. He
turned on it angrily. What did such a little black ape want in that
sweet young lady’s room? And behold, it was himself, reflected in a
great mirror, the like of which Tom had never seen before.
And Tom, for the first time in his life, found out that he was dirty; and
burst into tears with shame and anger; and turned to sneak up the chimney
again and hide; and upset the fender and threw the fire-irons down, with
a noise as of ten thousand tin kettles tied to ten thousand mad dogs’
tails.
Up jumped the little white lady in her bed, and, seeing Tom, screamed as
shrill as any peacock. In rushed a stout old nurse from the next room,
and seeing Tom likewise, made up her mind that he had come to rob,
plunder, destroy, and burn; and dashed at him, as he lay over the fender,
so fast that she caught him by the jacket.
But she did not hold him. Tom had been in a policeman’s hands many a
time, and out of them too, what is more; and he would have been ashamed
to face his friends for ever if he had been stupid enough to be caught by
an old woman; so he doubled under the good lady’s arm, across the room,
and out of the window in a moment.
He did not need to drop out, though he would have done so bravely enough.
Nor even to let himself down a spout, which would have been an old game
to him; for once he got up by a spout to the church roof, he said to take
jackdaws’ eggs, but the policeman said to steal lead; and, when he was
seen on high, sat there till the sun got too hot, and came down by
another spout, leaving the policemen to go back to the stationhouse and
eat their dinners.
But all under the window spread a tree, with great leaves and sweet white
flowers, almost as big as his head. It was magnolia, I suppose; but Tom
knew nothing about that, and cared less; for down the tree he went, like
a cat, and across the garden lawn, and over the iron railings and up the
park towards the wood, leaving the old nurse to scream murder and fire at
the window.
[Picture: The under gardener]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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