Chimney sweeps -- Juvenile fiction; Fairy tales -- England
At which, if you will believe it, the fellow turned tail, thunderbox and
all, with a "Woof!" like an old sow on the common; and ran for his life,
screaming, "Help! thieves! murder! fire! He is going to kill me! I am a
ruined man! He will murder me; and break, burn, and destroy my precious
and invaluable thunderbox; and then you will have no more
thunder-showers in the land. Help! help! help!"
[Illustration]
At which the papa and mamma and all the people of Oldwivesfabledom flew
at Tom, shouting, "Oh, the wicked, impudent, hard-hearted, graceless
boy! Beat him, kick him, shoot him, drown him, hang him, burn him!" and
so forth: but luckily they had nothing to shoot, hang, or burn him with,
for the fairies had hid all the killing-tackle out of the way a little
while before; so they could only pelt him with stones; and some of the
stones went clean through him, and came out the other side. But he did
not mind that a bit; for the holes closed up again as fast as they were
made, because he was a water-baby. However, he was very glad when he was
safe out of the country, for the noise there made him all but deaf.
Then he came to a very quiet place, called Leaveheavenalone. And there
the sun was drawing water out of the sea to make steam-threads, and the
wind was twisting them up to make cloud-patterns, till they had worked
between them the loveliest wedding veil of Chantilly lace, and hung it
up in their own Crystal Palace for any one to buy who could afford it;
while the good old sea never grudged, for she knew they would pay her
back honestly. So the sun span, and the wind wove, and all went well
with the great steam-loom; as is likely, considering--and
considering--and considering--
And at last, after innumerable adventures, each more wonderful than the
last, he saw before him a huge building.
Tom walked towards this great building, wondering what it was, and
having a strange fancy that he might find Mr. Grimes inside it, till he
saw running toward him, and shouting "Stop!" three or four people, who,
when they came nearer, were nothing else than policemen's truncheons,
running along without legs or arms.
Tom was not astonished. He was long past that. Besides, he had seen the
naviculæ in the water move nobody knows how, a hundred times, without
arms or legs, or anything to stand in their stead. Neither was he
frightened; for he had been doing no harm.
So he stopped; and, when the foremost truncheon came up and asked his
business, he showed Mother Carey's pass; and the truncheon looked at it
in the oddest fashion; for he had one eye in the middle of his upper
end, so that when he looked at anything, being quite stiff, he had to
slope himself, and poke himself, till it was a wonder why he did not
tumble over; but, being quite full of the spirit of justice (as all
policemen, and their truncheons, ought to be), he was always in a
position of stable equilibrium, whichever way he put himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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