Lyr Req: I was having my breakfast at midnight
Subject: Lyr Req: I was having my breakfast at midnight|
From: GUEST,Louie Blyton
Date: 29 Oct 08 - 12:25 AM
It's verse rather than a song and begins:
I was having my breakfast at midnight
When a cry came, "The pits are on fire!"
So after I changed my library books
I went to the scene to enquire.
Does anyone know the source or any more of this?
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: I was having my breakfast at midnight|
From: GUEST,Louise Blyton
Date: 07 Nov 10 - 01:50 AM
For completion's sake, the verse is called The Miner's Story by Grey and Lee. I found the answer to my query here:
Subject: Lyr Add: THE MINER'S STORY|
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Dec 11 - 06:03 PM
Copied from Monologues.co.uk. I have improved the punctuation, and split the poem into 4-line stanzas, which seems to work pretty well.
THE MINER'S STORY
by Grey and Lee
You ask me of Penderby Pit, sir.
Sit down and we'll have a chat.
Penderby Pit is as deep as is deep.
Well, in fact sir, it's deeper than that.
What's that? Have I been in the pit, sir?
I've been there for many a year.
I never go anywhere else than the pit,
For the circle's a little bit dear.
It's forty-four years, aye, and less, sir,
Since that fearful explosion took place,
And I risked my own life for the foreman's wee lass,
A flapper of forty named Grace.
I was having my breakfast at tea time
When the cry came: "The pit is on fire!"
So as soon as I'd changed my library book,
I dashed to the scene to enquire.
The flames darted hither and thither.
They thithered and hithered as well,
And Dan'l the fool of the village exclaimed:
"Little Meg's in the pit down below!"
My face went all purple with horror,
For the news it quite took me aback.
They said she'd gone down for a scuttle of coal,
And also a bucket of slack.
Then I sprang to the mouth of the pit, sir.
"Who'll lower the cages?" I said.
But someone had pinched all the cages they had,
So we borrowed the parrot's instead.
'Twas a terrible squeeze to get in it,
But I did it with some bruises and cuts.
Then they started to lower the cage down the mine
And somebody threw me some nuts.
They lowered us lower and lower.
Yes, lower and lower we fell.
Some wenches were working the winches that day,
And the wench didn't winch very well.
Of a sudden I heard a loud snap, sir,
And I knew that the rope had gone through.
'Twas a quarter to one when I started to fall,
And I landed at twenty past two.
I came down an 'orrible crash, sir,
And, dear mother, I suffered some pain!
I was just looking round for a Boots Chemist shop
When under some slack I saw Jane.
Yes, I saw little Kate in the flames, sir.
The sight almost caused me to swoon.
"This is only the fourth of November," I said.
"They're burning you one day too soon!"
Then the foreman cried out from above, sir,
Shouting out in an agonised strain:
"I'm sending the wife's mother down there to help."
So we poked up the fire again.
At that moment the flames in the pit, sir,
Went out with a hiss and a roar.
Then the bioscope people appeared on the scene,
So we kindled the fire once more.
There seemed no way to save little Cissy,
For the ropes were all hopelessly seared,
But the oldest inhabitant stood up above
And somebody noticed his beard.
'Twas a beard he'd collected for ages,
Of a matted and twisted design.
He lay down full length at the mouth of the pit,
And lowered his beard down the mine.
Little Fanny swung on his whiskers
As she clung with the strength of despair,
And we all shouted, "Heave Ho, my hearties! Heave ho!"
Dear Flossie was saved by a hair.
If you ask them in Penderby village, sir,
Why, they've never yet spoken the truth.
They'll tell you that they've quite forgotten
The day that I saved little Ruth.