Rhyme Stew Read online

  “How much? How much?” the Tortoise cried.

  “That all depends,” the Rat replied,

  “Which motor you require on board,

  A Rolls, a Bentley or a Ford?”

  “The fastest one!” the Tortoise said.

  “I want a racing thoroughbred!”

  The deal was struck, arrangements made

  And willingly the Tortoise paid.

  As soon as Rat was all alone

  He tiptoed to the telephone

  And asked to speak to Mister Hare,

  And said, “Hello, it’s Ratty here.”

  The Hare said, “Hello Rat, what’s new?

  And how are things tonight with you?”

  Rat answered, “Would you pay a lot

  To hear about an evil plot?

  Would you, for instance, give your shirt

  To know who’s going to do you dirt?”

  There was a silence on the line,

  Then Hare cried, “Who’s the rotten swine?

  Come on now, Ratty, tell me true!

  You know I’d do the same for you!”

  The Rat said, very soft and sly,

  “No go, old man. Goodbye, goodbye.”

  “Wait! Wait!” cried Hare. “Don’t go away!

  How much d’you want? I’ll pay! I’ll pay!”

  And so once more old Ratty made

  A very advantageous trade,

  And after he had got his fee

  He told of Torty’s villainy.

  The Hare jumped up and down and cried,

  “That’s cheating! He’s disqualified!”

  The Rat, with nauseating joy,

  Said, “Hate to tell you this, old boy,

  Your contract simply says you race,

  The two of you, from place to place.

  It doesn’t ban the clever use

  Of engines giving extra juice.”

  “I’m cooked!” the Hare yelled out. “I’m done!

  I’ll lose my favourite restaurant!”

  The Rat said, slimier than ever,

  “Are you forgetting rats are clever?

  I’m sure arrangements could be made

  Provided extra cash is paid.

  I could for instance guarantee,

  In token of this extra fee,

  That irrespective of how fast

  The Tortoise goes, you won’t be last.

  I’d see that all his tyres go flat,

  I’d guarantee it,” said the Rat.

  “How much, how much?” the other cried.

  “An awful lot,” the Rat replied.

  The Hare now paid a second bill,

  And Dirty Rat got richer still.

  This thrilling epoch-making race

  Was by agreement taking place

  Along the road beneath the hill

  To finish by the barley-mill.

  The Rat meanwhile had tipped a load

  Of spiky nails across the road,

  Then hid himself, when that was done,

  Behind the hedge to see the fun.

  Spectators all along the way

  Had come to watch and shout hooray,

  The field-mice, weasels, hedgehogs, stoats

  And rabbits in their furry coats

  All lined the route and waved their flags

  And picnicked out of paper-bags.

  An ancient fox who ran the show

  Yelled out, “Get ready! Steady! Go!”

  Now Torty gunned his great machine

  And off he went in clouds of steam,

  And soon because of all that power

  Was doing fifty miles an hour.

  Each time he had to change a gear,

  Black smoke came belching from his rear.

  Each time he had to use the brake,

  His shell began to creak and shake.

  But oh, it was a wondrous thing

  To see a tortoise on the wing.

  “I’m going to win with lengths to spare!”

  The Tortoise yelled to Mister Hare.

  “Oh no you’re not!” the Hare replied,

  “For I’ve got Ratty on my side!”

  And just a moment after that

  All four of Torty’s tyres went flat.

  He had to stop. He had no choice,

  And Hare, in an exultant voice,

  Cried out, “Well, that’s the end of you!

  Stand back! Stand back! I’m coming through!”

  The Hare forgot that just ahead

  Lay all the nails that Rat had spread.

  The spiky things were everywhere

  And silly foolish Mister Hare

  Had spikes in every foot and toe!

  He couldn’t run! He couldn’t go!

  He shouted, “I can run no more!

  We’ll have to call the race a draw.”

  The Tortoise, all his tyres flat,

  Said sadly, “I agree to that.”

  Meanwhile the dirty Mister Rat

  Went home and counted all his pay.

  He’d had a profitable day.

  So just remember if you can,

  Don’t tangle with a business man.

  It doesn’t matter who you choose,

  They always win, we always lose.

  If you were here and I was there,

  If you were Tortoise, I was Hare,

  We’d both get diddled in the end

  By people like our Ratty friend.

  The Price of Debauchery

  My mother said, “There are no joys

  In ever kissing silly boys.

  Just one small kiss and one small squeeze

  Can land you with some foul disease.”

  “But Mum, d’you mean from just a kiss?”

  “You know quite well my meaning, miss.”

  Last week when coming home from school

  I clean forgot Mum’s golden rule.

  I let Tom Young, that handsome louse,

  Steal one small kiss behind my house.

  Oh, woe is me! I’ve paid the price!

  I should have listened to advice.

  My mum was right one hundredfold!

  I’ve caught Tom’s horrid runny cold!

  Physical Training

  Our gym-instructress, Miss McPhee,

  When gym was over, said to me,

  “Stay on, Bill Smith, I’ll teach you things.

  I’ll make you better on the rings,

  And after that let’s reinforce

  Your work upon the vaulting horse.”

  I stayed behind. She shut the door.

  She’d never been so kind before.

  She said, “So you can get it right

  I’ll have to hold you very tight.”

  She held me here, she held me there,

  By gum, she held me everywhere.

  She kindly taught me, after that,

  To wrestle with her on the mat.

  Oh! gosh, the things she taught to me,

  Our gym-instructress, Miss McPhee!

  The Emperor’s New Clothes

  The Royal Tailor, Mister Ho,

  Had premises on Savile Row,

  And thence the King would make his way

  At least a dozen times a day.

  His passion was for gorgeous suits

  And sumptuous cloaks and fur-lined boots

  And brilliant waistcoats lined in red,

  Hand-sewn with gold and silver thread.

  Within the Palace things were grand,

  With valets everywhere on hand

  To hang the clothes and clean and press

  And help the crazy King to dress.

  But clothes are very dangerous things,

  Especially for wealthy kings.

  This King had gone to pot so fast,

  His clothes came first, his people last.

  One valet who was seen to leave

  A spot of gravy on a sleeve

  Was hung from rafters by his hair

  And left forever dangling there.