Little Archie

 

Little Archie Straighton

Twelve years old at best

Took on a morning paper round

You never would have guessed

 

But one morning bright and early

One dark December morn

At a time when Archie got out of bed

With the rising of the crack of dawn

 

So to the paper shop nice and early

To start an early round

Carrying his large bag of papers

Through the streets making nary a sound

 

With his skinhead hair cut

And his bovver boots on his feet

With a attitude for a twelve year old

Who lived mostly on the street

 

 But no thug was Archie

He was just following the current trend

Most of his friends dressed this way

No harm did he intend

 

But this fatefully December morning

Whilst walking up Old Mother Baileys drive

To put her morning paper through the front door

Down past her old Bee Hive

 

All the Bees were agitated

Flying around in a swarm

The air was beginning to fill with smoke

Her front porch felt rather warm

 

Looking through the letter box

Archie saw flames were blazing down the hall

And lying at the bottom of the staircase

Was Mrs Bailey, obviously having had a fall

 

Poor Little Archie’s dilemma

Racing through his head

Did he run to town and raise the alarm

Or break in the door instead

 

Realizing the seriousness of the situation

And that to wait may be too late

He kicked the door, which flew open with a crash

And ran in, he did not hesitate

 

Grabbing Mrs Bailey

With all the strength his little frame could raise

Dragged her down the corridor and into the garden

Out from inside the Smokey haze

 

As Mrs Bailey regained consciousness

Started shouting for her grand-daughter Flo

Who was apparently asleep in an upstairs bedroom?

So back in the house did Archie go

 

Dousing himself with water

With the hosepipe attached to the side of the house

Dashed back inside and up the burning stairs

Faster than any mouse

 

In the distance could be heard the ringing

Of a fire engines bell ring belting out

It flew up the narrow lane

Pulled up with a screech and a fireman gave out a shout

 

Mrs Bailey by now was well with it

He’s gone back inside she did loudly shout

As suddenly Archie appeared at a window with the baby

Threw it open shouted you will have to catch her, look out

 

Three firemen held out a blanket as Archie quickly let the child drop

They caught young Flo, now in a shawl she was wrapped

Who was now saved from the blazing inferno?

But little Archie was now inside trapped

 

As the flames burst out of the windows

An explosion was soon to be heard from inside

And the roof now had began to cave in

It was plain to see that little Archie had died

 

A braver hero you would never have encountered

The townsfolk all said for many a year

Mrs Bailey could never look at her granddaughter

Without shedding many a tear

 

The little cottage has now long gone

Replaced, by a bright shiny plaque

In loving in memory of their young hero

Who lost his life, will never come back

 

If there is a moral to this little tale

It’s never judge a book by its cover, don’t get caught

By a skin headed boy in his bovver boots

Who was not the tearaway everyone thought