The Coffin Bell

He lived in a fine old country house

Befitting a man of means,

With everything a Victorian Squire

Could aspire to, in his dreams.

He owned four-fifths of a colliery

In the days when coal was gold,

And topped that up with a Brewery,

But the mean old man was cold.

 

For Benjamin John Fortescue ruled

His house like a would-be Earl,

His son had never felt welcome there

Since he’d married a country girl,

The mother had gone some years before

Who protected, in his youth,

But now, the butt of his father’s whims

The lad found out the truth.

 

He treated them like the servant class

Expected to fetch and bring,

But paid a pittance to keep them there,

His purse on a miser’s string,

‘I keep a fine roof over your heads

And you eat each day for free,’

He’d say, whenever they asked for gilt,

‘What more do you want from me?’

 

Their toddler Tim wore cast-off clothes

And was made to play outside,

‘I don’t want a ragamuffin’s mess,’

He’d say, till the mother cried.

‘You don’t seem to love your grandson,’ said

His son, his head in a whirl,

‘I would if he had some parentage,

But not from some country girl.’

 

As time went on there was something wrong

For the father suffered fits,

At first it would start with a seizure,

He would seem to lose his wits.

He’d lie for days in a sort of haze

And would scarcely draw a breath,

And Caroline would look hard it him,

‘It’s as if he’s caught in death!’

 

It happened enough to make him plan

Should the doctor be deceived,

‘I don’t want the fools to bury me

Alive, so I’m not retrieved.’

He bought a coffin with space inside

And a tube, out to the air,

With a little bell he could ring as well

If he found himself in there.

 

‘Be sure to follow instructions if

You think that I am dead,

Affix the bell to the tube as well

With a cord down to my head,

Then check the grave for a week or more

To see if the bell should ring,

Then hurry to dig me up, and I

Will give you anything.’

 

The day came that on the seventh fit

They could swear that he was dead,

‘There isn’t even a breath of air

And his eyes are up in his head.’

Three doctors came, and they all concurred

That his life was now extinct,

‘It had to happen,’ the couple heard,

‘He’s been living on the brink.’

 

They laid him out in his coffin, and

They fitted the tube to breathe,

Attached the bell, and the cord as well

Before they rose to leave,

But Timothy stayed to play that day

As he did, down in the Dell,

And a week went by till his mother cried:

‘Where did he get that bell?’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Valentine]

Wildly funny. Guess old gramps should have treated the little guy better. Made me think of the new little guy at church this morning wanting to shake every ones hand. He offered his little hand to all. But the one lady that stepped back to him and asked for his hand...he would not shake it. Much to her embarrassment. Kids react to their own devises. Valentine

[MomzillaNC]

Hmm… Was the old man dead when they buried him? What a question to always have lurking at the backs of their minds!

[Lyndy]

Oh wow, what a beautiful and funny poem! I truly enjoyed it.

[Sindu]

Hah! Way to go Timothy! Take that you old to-be-but-will-never-be Earl.
Amazing narration.. Loved it, laughed with it :)

[R Smith]

ha! justice i'd say for that old miser, wonder if he snuffed it for real or woke in his grave, a terrible way to go, like some work of old from Poe, your writing as always David tells an excellent story in brilliant rhyme, bravo :)

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Great story David...as always...

[andrew mitchell]

ha ha david a funny write this time. nicely presented as usual

[Marie]

I had to laugh at the end of this one...children who play outside find the strangest things...

[ANTO]

"Benjamin John Fortescue" - what grand names they had, eh, David - "Isambard Kingdom Brunel" - lol.

"The mother had gone some years before
Who protected, in his youth,
But now, the butt of his father’s whims
The lad found out the truth." - some of your finest wordsmithing (of the tiny percentage I have read) in this one!

Great little tale of the unexpected here DLP. Much appreciated you sharing.
Bravo my friend.
:)

[alf]

Hi David. Ah, that zest is back in this tale. Thoroughly enjoyable read. I think somewhere in your head lies the darkest thoughts!! I'm not complaining, not when I get a poem like this to read. Loved it, alf