Heard it in the Playground Read online

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Heard it in the Playground

  Allan Ahlberg’s new collection of poems and songs adds to his continuing portrait of primary school life. Here you can meet Billy McBone and the Mad Professor’s Daughter, be amazed by the Longest Kiss Contest, shed a tear for the Boy Without a Name, and sing – if you’re a teacher, feeling low – the Mrs Butler Blues. Once again Fritz Wegner has supplied the perfect illustrations.

  Allan Ahlberg trained as a teacher at Sunderland College of Education. After a series of jobs including postman, gravedigger, soldier and plumber’s mate, he spent ten years teaching. He lives just outside Leicester with his daughter Jessica.

  Fritz Wegner was born in Vienna and came to England in 1938. He studied at St Martin’s School of Art and after the war became a freelance illustrator. Since then he has worked for magazines, publishers and advertising agencies all round the world and even designed postage stamps! He has also taught art and illustration and served as an external assessor for Camberwell College of Art. Fritz Wegner now lives and works in London.

  Also by Allan Ahlberg

  Verse and Song

  Please Mrs Butler

  The Mighty Slide

  The Mrs Butler Songbook

  Novels and Stories

  Ten in a Bed

  Woof!

  Miscellaneous

  The Happy Families series

  With Janet Ahlberg

  Picture Books

  Each Peach Pear Plum

  Peepo!

  The Baby’s Catalogue

  The Cinderella Show

  Starting School

  It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

  Novels and Stories

  Son of a Gun

  Jeremiah in the Dark Woods

  The Vanishment of Thomas Tull

  The Clothes Horse

  The Bear Nobody Wanted

  Miscellaneous

  The Old Joke Book

  The Ha Ha Bonk Book

  Heard it in the Playground

  ALLAN AHLBERG

  Illustrated by Fritz Wegner

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2

  Penguin Books India (P) Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India

  Penguin Books (NZ) Ltd, Cnr Rosedale and Airborne Roads, Albany, Auckland, New Zealand

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  www.penguin.com

  First published by Viking Kestrel 1989

  Published in Puffin Books 1991

  38

  Text copyright © Allan Ahlberg, 1989

  Illustrations copyright © Fritz Wegner, 1989

  All rights reserved

  ‘The Question’ and ‘Where’s Everybody?’ appeared first in Island of the Children, published by Orchard Books.

  Consultant Designer: Douglas Martin

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 978-0-14-194247-6

  CONTENTS

  Short Ones

  Registration

  The Longest Kiss Contest

  Boys

  Sale of Work

  The Ghost Teacher

  The Answer

  The Question

  I See a Seagull

  Why Must We Go to School?

  First Day Back

  Harrison’s Desk

  Not Now, Nigel

  Swimming Lessons

  The Assembly

  Bags I

  Billy McBone

  Where’s Everybody?

  Parents’ Evening

  The Infants Do an Assembly about Time

  Finishing Off

  Hide-and-seek

  The Old Teacher

  The Boy Without a Name

  Things I Have Been Doing Lately

  The Trial of Derek Drew

  Songs

  The Grumpy Teacher

  Mrs So-and-so

  The Bell

  The Mrs Butler Blues

  Leavers’ Song

  Long Ones

  The Mad Professor’s Daughter

  Kicking a Ball

  Schooling

  Heard it in the Playground

  Author’s Note

  Index of First Lines

  Teacher’s prayer

  Let the children in our care

  Clean their shoes and comb their hair;

  Come to school on time-and neat

  Blow their noses, wipe their Feet.

  Let them, Lord not eat in class

  Or rush into the hall en masse.

  Let them show some self-control;

  Let them slow down; let them stroll!

  Let the children in our charge

  Not be violent or large;

  Not be sick on the school-trip bus,

  Not be cleverer than us;

  Not be unwashed, loud or mad,

  (With a six-foot mother or a seven-foot dad).

  Let them, please, say ‘drew’ not ‘drawed’;

  Let them know the answers, Lord!

  Short Ones

  Registration

  Emma Hackett?

  Here, Miss!

  Billy McBone?

  Here, Miss!

  Derek Drew?

  Here, Miss!

  Margaret Thatcher? *

  Still here, Miss!

  Long John Silver?

  Buccaneer, Miss!

  Al Capone?

  Racketeer, Miss!

  Isambard Kingdom Brunel?

  Engineer, Miss!

  Davy Crockett?

  Wild frontier, Miss!

  Frank Bruno?

  Cauliflower ear, Miss!

  The White Rabbit?

  Late, Miss!

  Billy the Kid?

  Infants, Miss!

  Simple Simon?

  Here, Sir!

  Father Christmas?

  Present (for you), Miss!

  Count Dracula?

  1, 2, 3, 4, Miss!

  Necks door, Miss!

  Dentist’s!

  The Invisible Man?

  Nowhere, Miss!

  Almighty God?

  Everywhere, Miss!

  Tarzan?

  Aaaaaaaaaah! Miss.

  Sleeping Beauty?

  Zzz, Miss.

  The Longest Kiss Contest

  We seen ’em in the cloakroom, Miss –

  Ann Cram and Alan Owen;

  Tryin’ to have the longest kiss –

  They had the stopwatch goin’!

  On your mouths,

  Get set – go!

  And Alison – and Rose – and Chris!

  They’ve been in there since play.

  Tryin’ to break the record, Miss –

  They’ll wear their lips away.

  You kiss her –

  It’s my turn with the watch!

  Ann ’n’ Chris was winnin’, Miss,

  Till Dennis made ’em laugh.


  He pulled that face, y’know – like this:

  They’re gonna do a graph!

  Boys

  Boys will be boys

  But before that

  They sit around in prams

  In woolly hats

  With sticky chins

  Waiting.

  Boys who used to be boys

  (i.e. old boys)

  On the other hand

  Sit around in pubs

  Or on the upper decks of buses

  With stubbly chins

  Remembering.

  Boys who are boys

  Meanwhile

  Just get on with it.

  Sale of Work

  Who wants to buy:

  Twenty sums, half right,

  Two tracings of Francis Drake,

  A nearly finished project on dogs

  And a page of best handwriting?

  Price reduced for quick sale:

  Junk model of the Taj Mahal.

  Delivery can be arranged.

  What am I bid

  For this fine old infant’s newsbook

  Complete with teacher’s comments?

  Hurry, hurry, hurry!

  Brand-new paintings going cheap –

  Still wet!

  The Ghost Teacher

  The school is closed, the children gone,

  But the ghost of a teacher lingers on.

  As the daylight fades, as the daytime ends,

  As the night draws in and the dark descends,

  She stands in the classroom, as clear as glass,

  And calls the names of her absent class.

  The school is shut, the children grown,

  But the ghost of the teacher, all alone,

  Puts the date on the board and moves about

  (As the night draws on and the stars come out)

  Between the desks – a glow in the gloom –

  And calls for quiet in the silent room.

  The school is a ruin, the children fled,

  But the ghost of the teacher, long-time dead,

  As the moon comes up and the first owls glide,

  Puts on her coat and steps outside.

  In the moonlit playground, shadow-free,

  She stands on duty with a cup of tea.

  The school is forgotten – children forget –

  But the ghost of a teacher lingers yet.

  As the night creeps up to the edge of the day,

  She tidies the Plasticine away;

  Counts the scissors – a shimmer of glass –

  And says, ‘Off you go!’ to her absent class.

  She utters the words that no one hears,

  Picks up her bag…

  and

  disappears.

  The Answer

  We’re looking for the answer,

  We’re searching high and low.

  We’re doing what we can, Sir –

  We really want to know.

  We’ve ransacked desk and drawer, Sir,

  Basket, bowl and bin.

  We’ve scrutinized the floor, Sir –

  You couldn’t hide a pin.

  We’ve been out on the street, Sir;

  We’ve been up on the roof.

  And even when we cheat, Sir,

  This question’s answer-proof.

  We’ve cudgelled all our brains, Sir,

  And still we’re in the dark.

  Got nothing for our pains, Sir,

  Except a question mark.

  We’ve thought ourselves to death, Sir,

  With ‘What?’ and ‘Where?’ and ‘Who?’

  We’re beat and out of breath, Sir,

  So how about a clue?

  The teacher tapped his forehead.

  At last! the children cried.

  The answer, Sir’s, in your head…

  What a perfect place to hide.

  The Question

  The child stands facing the teacher

  (This happens every day);

  A small, embarrassed creature

  Who can’t think what to say.

  He gazes up at the ceiling,

  He stares down at the floor,

  With a hot and flustered feeling

  And a question he can’t ignore.

  He stands there like the stump of a tree

  With a forest of arms around.

  ‘It’s easy, Sir!’ ‘Ask me!’ ‘Ask me!’

  The answer, it seems, is found.

  The child sits down with a lump in his throat

  (This happens everywhere),

  And brushes his eyes with the sleeve of his coat

  And huddles in his chair.

  I See a Seagull

  I see a seagull in the playground.

  I see a crisp-bag and a glove;

  Grey slides on the grey ice

  And a grey sky above.

  I see a white bird in the playground

  And a pale face in the glass;

  A room reflected behind me,

  And the rest of the class.

  I see a seagull in the playground.

  I see it fly away.

  A white bird in the grey sky:

  The lesson for today.

  Why Must We Go to School?

  Why must we go to school, dad?

  Tell us, dear daddy, do.

  Give us your thoughts on this problem, please;

  No one knows better than you.

  To prepare for life, my darling child,

  Or so it seems to me;

  And stop you all from running wild –

  Now, shut up and eat your tea!

  Why must we go to school, dad?

  Settle the question, do.

  Tell us, dear daddy, as much as you can;

  We’re really relying on you.

  To learn about fractions and Francis Drake,

  I feel inclined to say,

  And give your poor mother a bit of a break –

  Now, push off and go out to play!

  Why must we go to school, daddy?

  Tell us, dear desperate dad.

  One little hint, that’s all we ask –

  It’s a puzzle that’s driving us mad.

  To find all the teachers something to do,

  Or so I’ve heard it said,

  And swot up the questions your kids’ll ask you,

  My darlings – now, buzz off to bed!

  First Day Back

  First day back at school

  Children clean and neat

  New coats hang on coatpegs

  New shoes shine on feet.

  School hall smells of polish

  Toilets smell of soap

  Children meet new teachers

  Faces full of hope.

  Teachers give new books out

  Children start new page

  Up the curtain rises

  On the same old stage.

  Harrison’s Desk

  There’s something in Harrison’s desk.

  Put your ear against it and listen.

  A noise like the chewing of pencils.

  Harrison invites you to look inside.

  He charges 5p a peep.

  You lift the lid a little, and a little more…

  A scritching, scratching somewhere at the back.

  A noise like the chewing of rulers.

  A peculiar movement.

  There is something in Harrison’s desk.

  Harrison won’t say what it is.

  He says it sharpens his pencil sometimes.

  He claims it helps him with his homework.

  Then: a noise like an angry burp.

  Look out, says Harrison, and slams the lid.

  Harrison piles heavy objects on his desk.

  You suspect a trick and watch him closely.

  This sometimes happens, says Harrison.

  A hole begins to appear in Harrison’s desk.

  A tiny hairy hand protrudes.

  5p a peep, says Harrison, and covers it with his hat.

 
Harrison counts his 5p’s.

  You still suspect some sort of trick.

  You prepare to ask for a refund.

  The piled-up desk, meanwhile, begins to shake.

  A stack of books collapses to the floor.

  A hole appears in Harrison’s hat.

  Not Now, Nigel

  Not now, Nigel,

  It’s only half-past eight.

  The school’s not really open –

  Your request will have to wait.

  Not now, Nigel,

  The register is due;

  Some dinner-money’s missing,

  And I’ve got a headache too.

  Not now, Nigel,

  Can’t you see I’m on my knees?

  We’re trying to find the hamster

  (And I think I’m going to sneeze).

  Not now, Nigel,

  I’d like to hear your news,

  But Alice isn’t well –

  She’s just been sick all on my shoes.

  Not now, Nigel,

  Claire’s bent her violin,

  I ought to take a tablet

  (And I need a double gin).

  Not here, Nigel,

  The staffroom’s meant for us;

  Your place is in the playground

  (Or underneath a bus).

  Not now, Nigel,

  I still feel quite unwell;

  And, furthermore, it’s home time –

  Off you go (saved by the bell).

  Not… now, Nigel,

  Though it’s nice of you to call.

  I’d love to ask you in

  But there’s a wolf-hound in the hall.

  Not… now… Nigel,

  It’s really time for bed.

  My temperature is rising –

  There’s a drum inside my head.

  Tomorrow I’ll feel better –