Twenty-Fifth Evening"It was yesterday, in the morning twilight"—these are the
words the Moon told me—"in the great city no chimney was yet
smoking—and it was just at the chimneys that I was looking.
Suddenly a little head emerged from one of them, and then half a
body, the arms resting on the rim of the chimney-pot. 'Ya-hip!
ya-hip!' cried a voice. It was the little chimney-sweeper, who had
for the first time in his life crept through a chimney, and stuck
out his head at the top. 'Ya-hip! ya-hip' Yes, certainly that was a
very different thing to creeping about in the dark narrow chimneys!
the air blew so fresh, and he could look over the whole city
towards the green wood. The sun was just rising. It shone round and
great, just in his face, that beamed with triumph, though it was
