The teacher saw the little chap was fighting with his shoes
And she saw it was a battle that he was sure to lose.
He was tugging, he was pulling, he was sticking out his tongue
And the teacher went to help him because he was very young.
‘Come on Freddy!’ Teacher said, ‘We’ll soon get these darned shoes on!
It’s very nearly home-time and soon you must be gone!’
So she also started tugging and pulling, really hard,
While all the other children were already in the yard.
At last the shoes were on and Freddy, who was very sweet,
Said ‘Teacher! They’re still not right! They’re not on the proper feet!’
And indeed, the right was on the left and left was on the right.
Thought the teacher ‘If I don’t work fast I won’t get home tonight!’
She duly pulled the shoes off and started once again,
Tugging, pulling, wrenching them with all her might and main!
‘At last! They don’t fit very well!’ the exhausted teacher said.
‘Well’, said Freddy,’They’re not my shoes.They belong to my brother, Ted.’
The teacher wasn’t very pleased but she tried hard not to scold
She said ‘Now we must find your mittens, The weather’s very cold.’
And this was when she decided teaching wasn’t the job to choose!
‘My mittens?’ responded Freddy, ‘I stuffed them in my shoes!’
Our little ferry runs back and forth across a stretch of water
And Blake, as a little boy, loved the trip. (His mother is my daughter.)
One day he had a knitted doll, of a Postman Pat design,
He said 'Pat would like a ferry-ride' and we said 'That's just fine'.
So back and forth we went with him, as landmarks were pointed-out,
And Postman Pat understood it all, of that there is no doubt!