“I have thought of something,” said the chimney-sweep; “let us get into the great pot-pourri jar which stands in the corner; there we can lie on rose-leaves and lavender, and throw salt in his eyes if he comes near us.”
“No, that will never do,” said she, “because I know that the Chinaman and the pot-pourri jar were lovers once, and there always remains behind a feeling of good-will between those who have been so intimate as that. No, there is nothing left for us but to go out into the wide world.”
“Have you really courage enough to go out into the wide world with me?” said the chimney-sweep; “have you thought how large it is, and that we can never come back here again?”
“Yes, I have,” she replied.
When the chimney-sweep saw that she was quite firm, he said, “My way is through the stove and up the chimney. Have you courage to creep with me through the fire-box, and the iron pipe? When we get to the chimney I shall know how to manage very well. We shall soon climb too high for anyone to reach us, and we shall come through a hole in the top out into the wide world.” So he led her to the door of the stove.
“It looks very dark,” said she; still she went in with him through the stove and through the pipe, where it was as dark as pitch.
“Now we are in the chimney,” said he; “and look, there is a beautiful star shining above it.”