“Now,” continued he, “this fellow is just my height. The old Quaker, if my face were blackened, and if I were to change clothes with the chimney-sweeper, I’ll answer for it, would never know me.”
“Oh, it’s an admirable invention! I give you infinite credit for it!” exclaimed Mrs. Theresa. “It shall, it must be done. I’ll ring, and have the fellow up this minute.”
“Oh, no; do not ring,” said Frederick, stopping her hand, “I don’t mean to do it. You know you promised that I should do as I pleased. I only told you my invention.”
“Well, well; but only let me ring, and ask whether the chimney-sweepers are below. You shall do as you please afterwards.”
“Christopher, shut the door. Christopher,” said she to the servant who came up when she rang, “pray are the sweeps gone yet?”
“No, ma’am.”
“But have they been up to old Eden yet?”
“Oh, no, ma’am; nor be not to go till the bell rings; for Miss Bertha, ma’am, was asleep a-lying down, and her brother wouldn’t have her wakened on no account whatsomever. He came down hisself to the kitchen to the sweeps, though; but wouldn’t have, as I heard him say, his sister waked for no account. But Miss Bertha’s bell will ring when she wakens for the sweeps, ma’am. ’Twas she wanted to see the boy as her brother saved, and I suppose sent for him to give him something charitable, ma’am.”
“Well, never mind your suppositions,” said Mrs. Theresa; “run down this very minute to the little squeaking chimney-sweep, and send him up to me. Quick, but don’t let the other bear come up with him.”
Christopher, who had curiosity, as well as his mistress, when he returned with the chimney-sweeper, prolonged his own stay in the room by sweeping the hearth, throwing down the tongs and shovel, and picking them up again.