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The chimney sweep
It was still dark when Jake woke up. Mr Webster was shaking Jake's shoulder. 'Come on, get up, you lazy little urchin. There are lost of chimneys to sweep,' he grumbled.
Jake tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He was tired, cold, and hungry. He tied his woollen scarf more tightly round his neck and buttoned up his ragged jacket. He didn't have any socks so he pushed his bare feet into his old bots. His fingers were cold and it was hard work tying the strings that he had to use instead of laces.
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