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And the last thing that reached them from the outer world was their mother's voice calling to them her customary warning: that the ramoneur was already in the chimney and that unless they were asleep in five minutes he would come and catch them by the tail. For the Sweep they looked upon with genuine awe.
He went in a cloud of sparkling, black dust that turned instantly into shining gold when it reached the yellow river from the stars. His face was very dirty. 'It's not the ramoneur, whispered Jimbo, uncertain whether the shiver he felt was his sister's or his own. 'He's much too springy. Sweeps always had a limp.
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