The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1898-04-17

When 1 reach the. roof I take a rope
and throw it over the chimney top and
pull myself up. Then It's 'Yo-ho, yo-Ilo,
yo-ho! and a blast of my trumpet.
That attracts attention.
Are the ropes strong? Well, guess!
See this black fellow. He's slender but
he will bear weight of 1900 pounds
have had him a long while and have
decided several times to discard him.
but somehow I can't part with him
He's such a faithful fellow that 1t
seems like ingratitude to cast him off,
but when I want to be particularly
careful l use new rope, though I do
rot feel at home with him."
70 Slunkey Norton every tool of his
trade is endowed with life, and a per-
sonality. That, probably, is the Schiller
in him.
"Soot dirtyv' exclaimed Slunkev
when the suggestion was made that the
business was not one for boiled shirts.
SCOT Is the cleanest dirt in the world.
True, my face is black with 1t, but
that's my make up. 1t Is a combina-
ton of glycerine and SCOT. I invented
! 1t myself. It washes off easily At
| home I'm quitea white When I get on
a chimney top with my blue suit. black
face and little peaked cap and blow
that trumpet, I'm a picture.
But I'm more than chimney
sweep" continued Slunkey I'm a
| draught expert. I know more about
chimney draughts than any other man
in st. Paul. There are men who would
give s1,OOO.OeO to know what I know
about chimneys, but I won't tell them
IT they want to know it, let them do
as have done and acquire the knowl-
edge. There isn't any kind Of a CHM
ney can't remedy. The great trouble
is with architects They don't know
anything about chimneys Chimneys
are just like humans, and, if they're
not made right, they won't work
right. Then Slunkey has to come along
and fix them.
Factory chimneys and stacks? I
don't have much to do with them.
They don't require much attention
The only way to clean an iron stack
is to get on the outside and hit it with
a big club. That knocks off the scales
inside. Iron stacks are dangerous to
work on. for the gases destroy the iron
top, and a rope thrown over it is apt
to cause it to crumble and give way,
and then Mr.. Chimney sweep finds
himself on the ground. and may be
dead
mo, I don't go inside chimneys The
outside is good enough for me. When
chimney sweeps have to go inside,
Slunkey Norton will retire from bust
ness" ~
1t is about Christmas time that the
spirit of Schiller takes full possession
of Slunkey Norton, and he becomes the
poet. Slunkey is at all times fond of
children, and at Christmas he gives
himself unrestrainedly to them. Who
has not seen him on Christmas eve
dressed as Santa Claus, driving about
the city accompanied by bodyguard
Of buglers. All night long he makes
the circuit of the town and children,
awakened by the silver bugles, know
that Santa Claus is passing.
There's many a poor little tot"
said Slunkey "who wouldn't believe
in Santa Claus, were it not for me.
My bugle is the only evidence they
have Of him. 1 wonder what excuses
their parents make for Santa Claus
failure to visit them? Poor little totsr
Slunkey Norton delights to play San
ia Claus at orphan asylum and Sunday
school entertainments.
'It does me good" he said, "to de-
scend a chimney before an audience
of little ones who have very little SUM-
shine In life, and make them feel that
some one cares for them and thinks of
them. I'm very jealous of that pleas
ure.
But there's chimney over there
that must sweep. So, goodbye. Yo-
no, yo-ho yo-ho! Ia ra ra "a ra "a RAJ"