THE TALE OF THE SHOE

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLIX, Issue 21971, 24 May 1941, Page 13

THE TALE OF THE SHOE

Do you know the old story— But surely you do— Of that funny Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe, And gave them some broth Without any bread, And whipped them all soundly And put them to bed? But why did she live in A shoe? That’s the mystery. I do wish the rhyme Gave the rest of her history. I know. Let’s be clever And make up some more— All that came after, And what came before. There was a young woman Who lived long ago. She married a carpenter. His name was Joe. But find a nice house, Whether biggish or small, A tiled or a thatched one, They couldn’t at all. They were walking together One fine summer day, Where the blackbird was singing, The air sweet with hay, ' When what should they And But a funny old shoe, And Joe said to Mary “I think that will do.” Joe ran for his saw And his plane and his axe His gimlet and chisel. His hammer and tacks. And in rather less time Than it takes to say "knife” He was working like fun at it. So was his wife. Joe fitted a roof And a little front door, A window in front And then several more. They all took some doing, But what was still harder, He built, in the heel, A most neat little larder. At last it was done, All so shining and clean, The sauciest cottage That ever was seen. So trim and so handy, So snug, yet so airy— Joe thought it a wonderful place. So did Mary. Both Mary and Joe Were as gay as a bird When the first baby came, Then the second and third. Their family grew, And it grew and it grew— There was one thing that didn’t grow That was the Shoe. Joe went as a carpenter On board a brig. He had to earn more Now the bills were so big; But one unlucky morning, Alas and alack, That brig struck a rock, So Joe didn’t come back. His poor wife grew older And older and older, And so did the children, And noisier and bolder. They simply would not Do a thing they were bid. Until in the end— Well, you know what she did. Now here’s a surprise! One day who should call But Joe, with a knapsack And parrot and all. When his ship struck that rock He had swum on to dry land And lived several years On a cannibal island. Were the boys naughty then? Were the girls? They were not. Joe taught them their manners. He knew what was what. Until, in the end, I am happy to tell, You wouldn’t have known them, They turned out so well. Young Tom was a soldier, John Willie a baker, Jack and Richard a sailor And candle-stick-maker. But so many there were It will really be best If I leave it to you To imagine the rest. When Christmas rolls round, Back they come for the day To spend it at home In the old-fashioned way As we always do, And, I hope, so do you . . And that is the end Of the Tale of the Shoe.