noon
Beyond the Porta Angeli , in Borso 's day , was to be found a huddle of tenements -- fungus-growth upon the city wall -- single-storied , single-roomed affairs , mostly the lodging of artificers in the lesser crafts . Among them all there was but one of two floors , a substantial red-brick little house with a most grandiloquent chimney-stack . And very rightly it was so , for it belonged to the Court chimney-sweep . On this eventful noon Sor Beppo , the sweep , was sitting on his doorstep in the sun , eating an onion , one of many which reposed in a vinegar bath on his knees . He was quite black , save where a three-days beard lent a gleam of snow to chaps and chin ; being toothless , he was an indifferent performer upon the onion . But his hearing was as keen as his eyesight . He caught Angioletto 's vivacious heeltaps upon the flags , and peered from burly brows at the smart little gentleman , cloaked , feathered , and gaudy , who looked as suitable to his dusty surroundings as a red poppy to a rubbish heap .