An educator one spring day
From the "grind of toil"
wished to run away.
Swiftly he went in his faithfully Ford,
With a camp
outfit on the running board.
From the county seat to Buffalo Gap,
He quickly drove
without a mishap.
'I'll quit this pike right soon," said
he,
"Already I've passed schoolhouses three."
A few miles south he drove,
Then let his Ford toward
the mountain rove.
"'Tis sure I'll see up here," he mused,
"No building
for a schoolhouse used."
Musing, soliloquizing, on he sped,
Looking at naught
but the road ahead.
A few miles, and, with a choking flop,
His "Henry
Liz" slowed down to a stop.
"I can't make her go! I've used every tool!
But
thankful I am, away from school."
At this instant he heard a sound
That made him faint
and fall to the ground.
'Taws the sound of school children at play,
The noise
from which he had run away.
When he came to himself, he cried, "let me pass!"
But
a schoolboy said, :Why, you're out of gas."
"Come visit our school the rest of the day-
Watch us
work and help us play."