And there sat by the empty fireplace, which was filled with a pot
of sweet herbs, the nicest old woman that ever was seen, in her red
petticoat, and short dimity bedgown, and clean white cap, with a
black silk handkerchief over it, tied under her chin. At her feet
sat the grandfather of all the cats; and opposite her sat, on two
benches, twelve or fourteen neat, rosy, chubby little children,
learning their Chris-cross-row; and gabble enough they made about
it.

Such a pleasant cottage it was, with a shiny clean stone floor, and
curious old prints on the walls, and an old black oak sideboard
full of bright pewter and brass dishes, and a cuckoo clock in the
corner, which began shouting as soon as Tom appeared: not that it
was frightened at Tom, but that it was just eleven o'clock.

All the children started at Tom's dirty black figure,--the girls
began to cry, and the boys began to laugh, and all pointed at him
rudely enough; but Tom was too tired to care for that.

"What art thou, and what dost want?" cried the old dame. "A
chimney-sweep! Away with thee! I'll have no sweeps here."

"Water," said poor little Tom, quite faint.

"Water? There's plenty i' the beck," she said, quite sharply.

"But I can't get there; I'm most clemmed with hunger and drought."
And Tom sank down upon the door-step, and laid his head against the
post.