Always puffing on a pipe <br />You'd see him pedal his old bike, <br />Tattered old jacket in faded tweed <br />Trouser bottoms tied with twine, <br />Arsoowal's trade was catching rats. <br />He must have had a proper name <br />When he was christened as a child <br />But if he had, we didn't know it. <br />His naming ceremony came <br />That day we saw him riding down <br />The village street, apparently alight. <br />Smoke billowed from his trousers where <br />He'd stuffed his lighted baccy pipe. <br />'Mister, mister! ' we all called <br />'There's smoke coming out of your trousers! ' <br />In scornful disbelief he turned <br />And mouthed at us one word—'Arsoowals! '<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-yorkshire-ratcatcher/
