THE TEACHER TAUGHT.
Essay-writing in my schooldays certainly was not my forte;
"Lack of concentration" always figured in the term's report,
And my undistinguished diction made my worthy master snort.
Now enlisted as an usher—so a freakish fate ordains—
I employ my best endeavours and the remnant of my brains
Setting and correcting essays written by scholastic swains.
"Whether they derive advantage from this mental interplay,
Modesty, if not misgiving, makes it hard for me to say,
But I'm much inclined to fancy that it's just the other way.
Anyhow, from this experience I have learned a lot of things
Hidden from the ken of scholars or Prime Ministers or Kings,
Though revealed to youthful schoolboys lately freed from leading-strings.
On the relative importance of the classics, "maths," and "stinks";
On the charm of pink-hued ices, on the choice of gaseous drinks;
On the special sort of sermon which induces forty winks;
On the various ways of pulling pompous seniors by the leg;
On effective ways of bringing uppish juniors down a peg;
On the scientific mode of blowing any kind of egg;
On the forms of condescension which the human boy insult;
On the picture-palace mania, on the Charlie Chaplin cult;
On the latest modern weapons which supplant the catapult—
On these elemental matters, and indeed on many more,
I have now accumulated quite a valuable store
Of instructive, entertaining and authoritative lore.
And I hope, on my returning to my humdrum normal life—
When we've scotched the Kaiser's yearning after sanguinary strife—
Fortified by modern learning, to electrify my wife.
"Van (sleeping), on iron wheels, to accommodate two men, not under 12ft. by 6ft."—Glasgow Herald.
Such giants should certainly go in the van.