Get caked with soot so thick and black.
He’d squeeze his way through flues so tight
With darkness thick as blackest night.
It’s not much fun hid from the sun,
So Eddie built himself a gun.
He made the gun from old tin cans,
Cast off horse shoes and rusty pans.
When snores rang out from the chimney sweep
He’d build his gun instead of sleep.
Hammer a screw each long night through,
Till finished one night at half past two.
Next day when stood by a fire place
Ed took the gun from out its case.
The sweep went pale, his face looked grim,
He thought the boy would shoot at him.
Ed aimed his shot, down in a squat
From fire place to chimney pot.
The gun went off with a mighty boom
That shook the people in the room,
And up the flue a missile sped,
The bristle from a brush’s head.
It shot up quick, and in a tick,
Brushed all the soot from all the brick.
And when it reached the chimney top
It swept it out with a mighty pop.
Soot and grime and filthy stuff
Exploded in a massive puff
Into the sky, and passers by
Stopped and looked and wondered why.
That flue was clean in an eye’s short blink,
The chimney sweep didn’t stop to think.
He’d have that gun from young Eddie,
He turned to grab opportunity,
But he just saw an empty floor,
All Ed had left was an open door.
Eddie Lark had a bigger plan
Than working for the sweeper man.
So clever Ed began to pay
Chimney kids to work each day.
He gave each one a chimney gun,
So cleaning flues was a lot more fun!
In London town you’d be hard put
To miss the popping clouds of soot
As anyone who’s anyone
Has their chimney swept by Eddies’ gun
Yes Eddie Lark has made his mark
Thanks to his keen inventive spark.
Illustration © 2016 Jonny Duddle