during the descent.

He looked down through the long, black tunnel. It was a great, spacious,
old-fashioned chimney, and abundantly wide enough for his purpose.

A pleasant sound of laughter and merry voices came to him from the
kitchen below. It was evident the girls were having a frolic. So,
without further ado, Paul Jespersen stuffed his great hairy bulk into
the chimney and proceeded to let himself down.

There were notches and iron rings in the brick wall, evidently put there
for the convenience of the chimney-sweeps; and he found his task easier
than he had anticipated. The soot, to be sure, blinded his eyes, but
where there was nothing to be seen, that was no serious disadvantage.

In fact, everything was going as smoothly as possible, when suddenly he
heard a girl's voice cry out:

"Gracious goodness! what is that in the chimney?"

"Probably the chimney-sweep," a man's voice answered.

"Chimney-sweep at this time of night!"

Paul, bracing himself against the walls, looked down and saw a cluster
of anxious faces all gazing up toward him. A candle which one of the
girls held in her hand showed him that the distance down to the hearth
was but short; so, to make an end of their uncertainty, he dropped
himself down--quietly, as he thought, but by the force of his fall
blowing the ashes about in all directions.

A chorus of terrified screams greeted him. One girl fainted, one leaped
up on a table, and the rest made for the door.

And there sat poor Paul, in the ashes on the hearth, utterly bewildered
by the consternation he had occasioned. He picked himself up by and by,
rubbed the soot out of his eyes with the backs of his paws, and crawled
out upon the floor.

He had just managed to raise himself upon his hind-legs, when an awful
apparition became visible in the door, holding a candle. It was now
Paul's turn to be frightened. The person who stood before him bore a
close resemblance to the devil.

"What is all this racket about?" he cried, in a tone of authority.

Paul felt instantly relieved, for the voice was that of his revered
chief, Mr. Broby, who, he now recollected, was to figure at the
masquerade as Mephistopheles. Behind him peeped forth the faces of his
two daughters, one as Morning and the other as Spring.

"May I ask what is the cause of this unseemly noise?" repeated Mr.
Broby, advancing to the middle of the room. The light of his candle now
fell upon the huge bear whom, after a slight s