'Inside the chimney, high I climb.
It's dark inside the sooty stack.
I lose all sense of passing time.
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Extremely tortuous and inhuman treatment of a chimney boy, so nicely described. Thanks. My bare feet slip on crumbling bricks. I clear rooks' nests - dead leaves and sticks. The master yells, 'Get working, brat! '
How do think the poem is aptly titled