Archibald Twid by Susan H Trought (100 best novels of all time .TXT) 📖
- Author: Susan H Trought
Book online «Archibald Twid by Susan H Trought (100 best novels of all time .TXT) 📖». Author Susan H Trought
Archibald Twid
Archibald Twid was extremely thin
One day he slipped on a banana skin
And this is how he came to fame
’Cos he slid right down into the city drain.
He slipped right through the grid with ease
And straight down the drain – as swift as you please
Nobody saw this humungous disaster
Only his dog Gyp looked for his master
He sniffed at the drain and he whined and he scratched
But not one person thought that he had latched
Onto the problem of where Twid had gone
Clues he had left? Well, there were none!
Archibald Twid, he stood in the muck
And muttered about his feet being stuck
In the goo and the grunge of the huge city drain.
He pulled and he pulled but it was in vain
His boots were trapped in the dirt and the grime
And the filth and the dirt and the grot and the slime.
He looked up to see his pup’s nose being dragged
Away from the drain as the warden he bagged
A brand new inmate to put in the pound
Archibald’s eyes they became round
As he saw that his fate was sealed by the man
Who took away Gyp in a dark coloured van.
‘No!’ cried poor Archie with tears in his eyes.
‘Bring back my Gyp ‘cos he only eats fries!
And if you throw him in a cage he’ll be quite poorly
And you can’t want that on your conscience – surely!
My poor little doggie will really suffer
You should have picked on one that was tougher!’
His voice echoed along the tubular sewer
And Archie he saw that his options were fewer
Than ever before in his long healthy days
He sniffed as he looked at the dimly lit maze
And saw that the only light came from up high
Through the bars of the drain and he heaved a huge sigh.
Archie knew that he had to make haste
As the drain would soon fill with new waste
From the cafes and bars that were built up in the street
Where the tired office workers would generally meet
To gossip about the day they had just done
Before eating and drinking and having some fun.
He yelled out once, but he knew it was daft
As no-one could hear him at all, so he laughed
At the way he had slipped and slid down the grating
But that was no good as he was still waiting
For someone to come, drag him back through the rim
But no-one was there. It was just him.
The light became dim and he knew it was late
And the noises above meant that he couldn’t wait
For the next flush of the waters that caused all the slurry
Especially now as the revellers ate curry.
He stared through the gloom to where the mess went
And thought he would wade to where the flow bent.
He pulled his foot up with a gross slurping suck
And took a step forwards into the muck.
A couple of green eyes winked in the murk
As he sat on his bottom and felt such a jerk
For ’twas only a rat after a feast
Not a monster, he thought, or some other beast.
Slowly he waded in ever deepening slush
And suddenly heard a mad whooshing rush
A tsunami of mud and sludge in a wave.
Then Archie did something terribly brave.
He threw caution to the wind with a yell and a whoop
And dived in the mire, the consistency of soup.
He was carried along with his mouth closed up tight
Seeing bright eyes and nasties that gave him a fright
But so determined was he to rescue his Gyp
That he paddled along at a meaningful zip.
At last in the distance he saw a weak glow
Of a lightening sky so he started to slow.
The end of the drain came all at once in a rush
And deposited him thrashing about with a gush.
He sat up looking round. There was nothing but beach
And rock pools and seaweed and cliffs but each
Was far too high for poor Archie to climb
Sitting there in the sand and covered in slime.
He sighed and he thought about poor Gyp on his own
Confined there alone without even a phone.
He sniffed and he groaned with a tear in his eye
But he knew that he couldn’t just sit there and die
So he got to his feet and swayed in the breeze
If he didn’t find dry clothes he knew he would freeze.
So he started to walk down the beach at a jog
Thinking of nought but his poor little dog.
He was thinking so hard as he went down the shore that
He trod on a sandcastle, squashed it quite flat.
The boy gave a yell and started to howl
And his mother flicked Archie quite hard with a towel.
‘Ouch!’ cried Archie. ‘What was that for?’
‘You stink !’ said the boy and would have said more
But his mother scooped him up in her arms with a glare
‘Can I help you at all?’ she asked with a stare.
‘I slipped in a drain and it carried me here,’
Began Archie. ‘But it’s for Gyp not me that I fear.’
‘Who’s Gyp?’ asked the boy his blue eyes quite round
‘My puppy,’ said Archie. ‘He’s been put in the pound.’
‘Oh no!’ said the lady. ‘You must find him right now.’
‘I know,’ replied Archie. ‘But I don’t quite know how.
And I don’t think they would believe that a tramp such as me
Could look after himself much less pay the pound fee.’
‘You must clean yourself up,’ said the lady called Sue
‘Go swim in the sea! That will have to do.’
So Archie splashed around in the bright sea of blue
And rubbed off all the foul traces of pooh.
‘Come on,’ said Sue as she packed up the stuff.
‘I’ll help you get Gyp ‘cos you still look a bit rough.’
So they got to the pound just before four
And stood in a row and knocked on the door.
‘Come on,’ said the boy. ‘Let us in! Hurry up!
I’ve not had a hamster, and never a pup!’
‘Fingers crossed,’ said Archie and felt his hand in a grip
As Sue held his hand and they waited for Gyp.
Publication Date: 03-08-2011
All Rights Reserved
Comments (0)