IN A LONDON INFANT SCHOOL.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 290, 6 July 1917, Page 3 (Supplement)

IN A LONDON INFANT SCHOOL.

JUNE, 1917. Children—--0! Teacher, the Z-'pps arc coming! \Y<> beard the hooters —true! The throb of their engines humming— Teacher, what shall we do? Teacher— Yes. these are Hun marauders: This is a German raid. But, children, you know your orders— Surely you're not afraid? Children —■ Afraid of the Germans! No ma'am! What do you take us for? Under the desks we go, ma'am, Like we've had to do before. Teacher — All of yon safely under? Now, we can have a game! (The noise that you bear is thunder; Sunrise, that yellow flame.) This is a country called Arden; (Henry, tuck in your knees); And this room a beautiful gardenAll of your desks are trees. Mary, your tree grows roses; Tom's land's a lijy-bed; Gather some sweet-smelling posies—■ Look at them —white and red. Elinor's tree bears quinces; Sophie, what lovely plums! (A Briton, you know, never winces, When he hears the sound of bombs.) Somebody's plot of earth mayGrow us a round plum-cake. For this is Sylvia's birthday! See if we cannot make Wreaths of the crimson may-tree, A ball of cowslips gold; And a sceptre tall of haytrec, For Sylvia's hand to hold. Children — Oh! That fell in the playground! Look at the glass on the floor! Teacher — Children, this is the way round To the little fairy door. Where the rainbow-road is leading, And Sylvia's feast's to be— Children — Teacher, your face is bleeding— Teacher — Now, children you shall see Sylvia, crowned by fairies, Under a tamarisk tree; All the Johnnies and Marys Her pjiges and maidens shall be. Oh! such a game, so enthralling, Never was plaved at before! Round them the chimneys were falling, Near them were bricks on tho floor. Crash! came a smouldering rafter. "Christ, mercy!" the teacher said. They turned—scarcely checked was their laughter— But Sylvia—crowned—lav dead. M.A.L.