Nursery Rhymes for Modern Times
The Ballad of 'Abdul' Rowe
I tell of a teacher, Abdul Rowe,
Who taught— not so many years ago—
In Northwood Hills, at a grammar school,
Where he changed the life of a callow fool.
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
You looked a proper tyro —
We thought you weird
With your big black beard
And a multi-purpose biro.
It was back in nineteen sixty-three,
And I was the king of form 4C,
A vipers tongue and last in class,
Lord, how the prefects whacked my arse!
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
We may have been unruly,
And pinned a note
On the back of your coat,
I apologise, Abdul, truly.
In those days I was a mouthy lout
With precious little to mouth about,
I kept the bullies off my back
By feeding masters cheek and flack.
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
Forgive that little tartar
Who brought you fame,
A sly nickname,
And turned you into a martyr.
Now Abdul Rowe was a substitute
On English Lit', a new recruit,
A softy, wet behind the ears —
(I knew we'd soon have him in tears).
Thank you, Abdul thank you!
You didn't rant or rave, sir.
You didn't shout
Or bang us about
To force us to behave, sir.
He dressed far worse than any boy,
His suits were shabby corduroy,
He couldn't discipline a fly
(And he knew it, too, so he didn't try).
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
We howled like drunk carousers,
(Yes, it was me
And Johnny P
Who superglued your trousers.)
Through all this riot that poor saint
Would smile and never make complaint,
Until one day, out loud, he made
Us read The Charge of the Light Brigade.
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
He read like a transformed giant!
He struck 4C's
Artillery,
And the class became compliant.
He knew he'd hooked us then, by God!
And sure enough he cast a rod
Across that lake of clueless proles,
And reeled in a few stray souls.
Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
You won't recall those scholars.
You never knew —
But it was you
Who made me a million dollars!
Envoi: Thank you, Abdul, thank you!
By God, I wish you well, sir,
And as you'll note
From what I've wrote,
I've half-way learned to spell, sir!
There really was an 'Abdul' Rowe (whose fi rst name I never did learn) at St. Nicholas Grammar School in the early 1960's. And he really did change my life, although neither of us could have known it at the time. He once wrote in my exercise book beside an essay: "If you keep this up, Dennis, we'll have you in a green-backed Penguin yet!" Forty years later, I still remember those words. The carrot is mightier than the stick! And, by God, we had plenty of stick!