THE boy stood on the burning deck, whence all but him had fled”— When Tommy Gibbs stood up to speak he had it in his head, But when he saw the schoolroom full of visitors, he knew, From his weak knees and parching tongue, the words had all fled, too. “The boy stood on the burning deck”—a second time he tried, But he forgot about the boy, or if he lived or died; He only knew the burning deck was something nice and cool Beside the rostrum where he stood that awful day in school. “The boy stood on the burning deck”—he felt the flames and smoke. His tongue was thick, his mouth was dry, he felt that he would choke. And from the far back seats he heard a whisper run about: “Come back here, Tom, and take your seat. They’ve put the fire out!” |