a long time ago , there lived an old poet , a thoroughly kind old poet . as he was sitting one evening in his room , a dreadful storm arose without , and the rain streamed down from heaven . but the old poet sat warm and comfortable in his chimney - corner , where the fire blazed and the roasting apple hissed . " those who have not a roof over their heads will be wetted to the skin , " said the good old poet .
the old poet .
who was sitting in the chimney-corner ?
who was sitting in the chimney-corner ?