It was gloomy and the dirty panes

Did rattle and gleam in the morning light:

All silent were the little brains,

And the silver clouds at flight

“Beware the Principal, my son!

The eyes that see, the tricks they catch!

Beware the evil teachers, and shun

The furious work dispatch!”

He took his meter stick in hand:

Long time the faculty foe he sought

So rested he as an absentee

And waited awhile in thought

And, as in simple thought he did wait,

The Principal, whose eyes had frames,

Came stomping through, past my classmate,

And glared at him as it came!

On, two! One, two! And through and through

The meter stick came down with a whack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went triumphing back.

“And have you slain the Principal?

Come to my arms, my intellectual boy!

O wonderful day! Hip, Hip, Hooray!”

The students chortled in their joy.

It was gloomy and the dirty panes

Did rattle and gleam in the morning light:

All silent were the little brains,

And the silver clouds at flight