Part 12 (1/2)

CHAPTER VII

SWEEP AND LITTLE SWEEP

I

Once upon a time, in days long ago, there lived a Chimney Sweep and a little Crossing Sweeper. This Chimney Sweep was called ”Sweep.” He had a very black face, from the soot he swept down tall chimneys, but he had a kind heart and dearly loved this little Crossing Sweeper, whose name was Little Sweep. Little Sweep had a grimy, gray face from the ashes she threw on her muddy crossings, and as for her heart,--I suppose it was kind. Sweep thought it kind, and Little Sweep vowed she loved Sweep tenderly.

Now Sweep was his own master and owned a smart little donkey cart, all filled with brooms and brushes; but Little Sweep had a dreadful master, who beat her often and gave her scarcely enough to eat. Sweep lived in a snug little garret, and Little Sweep lived in a cold bare attic just across the way. The street was so narrow that the two could chat quite easily with one another. On holidays, when Sweep, so black and sooty, and Little Sweep, so gray and grimy, rode forth in the smart little donkey cart, the people all stared and vowed it was seldom one could see a couple so well matched.

Every morning Little Sweep was out with her broom, before the sun was up. Her master would beat her if she dared lie late abed. Now Sweep had no need to rise so early. His trade of sweeping down tall chimneys did not begin until later in the day. Nevertheless this amiable fellow bought himself a clock with a loud ringing bell, and when this clock rang out at five each morning, he would throw bread and buns to Little Sweep just over the way. Little Sweep would eat the bread and buns most eagerly, for she was always very hungry. Sweep bought her red mittens to warm her poor hands, and wept when he learned that her cruel master had taken them from her and sold them.

”Ah, Little Sweep,” he would say, ”when my golden dollars fill the stocking, we shall be married, and you will sweep crossings no longer.

Instead, you will sit at home in a neat little cottage and brew me soups and make strong soaps to wash my black face. Then on holidays we shall both ride forth, all clean and s.h.i.+ning.”

”Oh, please hurry then, and sweep ever so many chimneys, that the stocking may very soon fill with golden dollars!” Little Sweep would reply. ”My master grows crosser every day, and I cannot bear my life.”

”But you forget me,” answered Sweep. ”Is not my garret window just across from yours, and do I not throw you bread and buns each day?”

”Indeed, if it were not for your bread and buns, I know that I would die,” declared Little Sweep. ”My master does not give me food enough to feed a robin.”

”And I would buy you more bread and buns,” sighed Sweep, ”except that bread and buns cost pennies, and if I spend too many pennies, the stocking will never fill with golden dollars.”

Now in those olden days, as no doubt you know, kings and queens and n.o.ble folk stored all their gold in great carved chests of oak and walnut; but humble folk like Sweep hid their savings in a stocking.

One day when Sweep swept down the chimneys of a rich baker, the rich baker gave him seven tarts and a plum cake, for a present. You may be sure that Little Sweep enjoyed a feast that night. Her cruel master had gone off for the day and had locked her in her room with only bread and water. When Sweep learned that, his kindly heart was touched; he gave Little Sweep the whole plum cake and kept but one tart for himself. That was the manner of man Sweep was. Everything for Little Sweep and nothing for himself. When he swept tall chimneys in the shops of merchants, Sweep would buy some bits of linen or some ends of lace for Little Sweep. These Little Sweep would fas.h.i.+on into curtains and tidies for the little cottage of their dreams.

Now it is a curious thing to tell, but nevertheless quite true, that though Sweep's stocking filled at last, and there were even two golden dollars more than it could hold, still Little Sweep lived in her cold bare attic. And still her master beat her. The reason of it all was this. Sweep and Little Sweep could not agree upon a cottage. Sweep wished a cottage with many chimneys, in order that he might work at his trade. Little Sweep, on the other hand, who hated ashes and everything to do with chimneys, wished for a house with all gla.s.s doors and windows and no chimneys at all! Plainly the cottage to suit these two could not be found. Then Sweep decided on a sage plan.

”Now do you be content with a house of fewer gla.s.s doors and windows, Little Sweep,” said he, ”and likewise I shall content myself with fewer chimneys.” So again they set out, and this time soon found a cottage to please them. Little Sweep swept the crossings before it; Sweep swept down the chimneys. Then at the doors and windows Little Sweep hung up the curtains she had made, and pinned the tidies to the backs of the chairs. Sweep bought a ham and a bacon, and likewise a loaf of white bread, and behold, they were ready to be married!

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Hide me, Little Sweep,” cried Red Cap.

”My brother is after me.”--_Page 175._]

Sweep was very happy because his darling would sweep no crossings, and neither would her cruel master beat her any more. Little Sweep rejoiced because she did not like her trade; she was sure that she would never again be hungry, for Sweep would buy her all the bread and buns she could desire. Sweep took the two extra golden dollars and spent them both on finery for Little Sweep. He bought her a little gray wedding frock (to match her grimy, gray face, you know), some blue cotton stockings, and a red ribbon for her hair. For himself he bought only a gay green feather to wear in his hat and a bottle of oil to polish his holiday shoes. Always, you will notice, he gave everything to Little Sweep.

Then the day before their wedding day, some very strange things came to pa.s.s. Little Sweep was standing at her crossing when a tiny little man, dressed out in green and wearing a bright red cap, flew through the air and perched upon her broomstick.

”Hide me, Little Sweep,” cried Red Cap. ”My brother is after me.”

”Hide in my pocket,” replied Little Sweep, and no sooner had the first Red Cap crawled into her pocket than a second little creature, larger than the first, flew through the air and perched upon her broomstick.

”Tell me, Little Sweep,” cried the second little creature angrily, ”have you seen my brother flying north or east or south or west?”

Now as Little Sweep had heard that Red Caps often did great things for those who befriended them, she stood silent.

”Stupid!” cried the second little creature, when she did not speak. Then off he flew as suddenly as he had appeared, and out from Little Sweep's pocket crawled the first Red Cap.

”Ugh!” exclaimed Red Cap, brus.h.i.+ng his tiny beard and dusting his green satin suit. ”How comes it that your pocket is so very dusty?”

”I must keep ashes in it for my trade of sweeping crossings,” replied Little Sweep. ”I hate it.”

”Then perhaps I might find you a better trade,” said Red Cap, gazing thoughtfully at Little Sweep's gray grimy face and raggedy garments. ”We Red Caps, although we be very little folk, be very powerful folk, you know.”