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."