How the Chimneysweep Got the Ear of the Emperor adapted from "Two Little Tales" by Mark Twain Summer was come, and all the strong were bowed by the burden of the awful heat, and many of the weak were prostrate and dying. For weeks the army had been wasting away with a plague of dysentery, that scourge of the soldier, and there was but little help. The doctors were in despair; such efficacy as their drugs and their science had once had—and it was not much at its best—was a thing of the past, and promised to remain so. The Emperor commanded the physicians of greatest renown to appear before him for a consultation, for he was profoundly disturbed. Within a day he was attacked by that fell disease himself. The news flew from mouth to mouth, and carried consternation with it over all the land. Tommy was sixteen and a bright lad, but he was not in society. His rank was too humble for that, and his employment too base. In fact, it was the lowest of all employments, for he was second in command to his father, who emptied cesspools and drove a night-cart. Tommy's closest friend was Jimmy the chimney-sweep, a slim little fellow of fourteen, who was honest and industrious, and had a good heart, and supported a bedridden mother by his dangerous and unpleasant trade. About a month after the Emperor fell ill, these two lads met one evening about nine. They sat down on the curbstone to talk; and of course it was upon the one subject—the nation's calamity, the Emperor's disorder. Jimmy was full of a great project, and burning to unfold it. He said: "Tommy, I can cure his Majesty. I know how to do it." Tommy was surprised. "What! You?" "Yes, I." "Why, you little fool, the best doctors can't." "I don't care: I can do it. I can cure him in fifteen minutes." "Oh, come off! What are you giving me?" "The facts—that's all." "What is the plan? How'll you cure him?" "Tell him to eat a slice of ripe watermelon." It caught Tommy rather suddenly, and he was shouting