Select Poetry.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 18, Issue 1161, 2 November 1871, Page 2

Select Poetry.

" THE SMACK AT SCHOOL" A district school, not far away, 'Mid Berkshire hills, on,e winter's day, Was humming with its wonted .noise Of three-score mingled girls and boys, Some few upon .their .tasks intent, But more on •furtive mischief bent. The while the master's downward look Was fastened on :i copy-book, Eose sharp and clear a rousing smack, As 'twere a battery of bliss Let off in one tremendous kiss! " What's that? " the startled master cries " That, thir," a little imp replies, " Wath William Willith, if you pleathe— I thaw him kith Thufhanna Peathe ! " With frown to make a. statue thrill, The master thundered "Hither, Will! " Like wretch o'ertaken in his track, With stolen chattels on his back, Wiil hung his head in fear and shame, And to the awful presence came—■ A great, green, bashful simpleton, The butt of all good aatured fun. With smile suppressed and birch upraised, The threatens faltered, " I'm amazed That you, my biggest pupil, should Be guilty of an act so rude! Before the whole set school to boot— What evil genius put you to'fc ? " " 'Twas she herself, sir ! " sobbed the lad ; " I didn't mean to be so bad; But when Susanna shook her curls, And whispered I was 'fraid of girls, And durs'n't kiss a baby's doll, I couldn't stand it; sir, at all, But up and kissed her on the spot. I know —boo-hoo—I ought to not, But somehow from her looks—'boo-hoo— I thought she kind o' wished me to!"