(The tenth of the Black Hole Ballads)
ONCE the Bishop of Sodor and Man
A trip on the briny did plan;
When he went for a berth
Said the steward, with mirth,
“You’ll want two, one for you, and your man!”
ONCE Harry that famous young twister
Heard vaguely in French the word ‘vista’.
When the master so gay
Asked, “Of Bryant and May?”
Harry piped in his treble, “Wax, mister!”
There’s a boy with nose, oh so long,
To the famous Sixth Form doth belong,
Who, when one with delight,
Shouted, “Johnnie, eye’s (I’se) right!”
Answered, “I never said you were wrong”.
In our form we’ve a long-eared donkey
Who, when asked for the fem’nine of monk, he
Replied, just in fun,
“Why, my dear fellow, nun!”
Then in shame to the far corner slunk he.
“All right” said the babe of our class,
Who though golden at heart is an ass;
“Though not in fine fettle,
I am on my metal;
“Alloy I need if I lead you is brass!”
Joy of joys he’s at last in the team,
Ne’er before has he played such a game;
All the goals has he scored,
For him cheers are roared;
But, alas! when he wakes it’s a dream.
Yes, Chemistry was his profession;
And he came once to give us a lesson.
The door-knob he found
Resting coy on the ground—
Now lock-picking is his obsession.
Joe had a nerve cunning and cool,
And he stayed on four weeks at the school,
To be first in the race;
But no gala took place,
So he left us in tears, oh how cruel!
The student was peacefully dozin’
With the master a problem discussin’.
He woke from his reverie
At the master’s sharp query,
And said, “X is the number per dozen!”