1953 was the year when we first new; That the Principals and Instructors, were a wild and woolly crew. 1954, came upon us like a rocket; With a pounding of the ears, and a feeling out of pocket, 1955 was oh so very tricky; To keep in the job, we had to get sixty. But those four years, are good to make a crack; At some of the Instructors, that got on our back. Firstly Horrie Gilson, was a good one to mock, Morning noon and night, he'd be watching his clock. Then there was Spencer, his first name Fred; To him we were nothing, but a stupid dead head. But to be with Smithy, who's as bright as a fork; Your ears would be red, from excessive talk. Among the bosses, were Chappelow and Bell; If they were around you never could tell. Big Ken Whylie, knew a bit about Morse; I will say no more, he might use force. Good old Burgess, his first name Vic; He told us all, how switchboards tick. There was Jim Young, who’d strike a fair blow; He did the bunk, and went on furlough. Charlie Younger, was a man to go crook; If told his auto, had a dusty look. And somewhere around, we’d find Doc Plummer; He’d fix a cut, as good as your mumma. But stand ABC Pratt, with switchboard, Vic; I’m afraid the former, would look a bit sick. Across the school, you’d hear a great bark; Heralding the entrance, of Burly Clark. Down at Alexandria, we’d find conservative Col Deas; Who had to keep his daughters, on a short and sturdy lease. Walking around is Fuller, tinny as can be; But Fruen would be running, after our union fee. Enough for smoky hollow, and over to Annandale; Where the air is thick, and just as hard to inhale. We find jovial Mack, holding the chair; Ready to pounce, if acting the liar. Now and then, we see the boss Tom; He hits the joint like an atomic bomb; He will usually give us a smile, noting our character in his mental file. Ken Jamieson we will find working on switches; While downstairs is Gardiner, looking at pictures. Then we find speed, a nickname for Jordan; As far as I know, still making that organ. Also is Wilson, swarvy as can be; Trying to give that subject telephony. We find Harry Collins, tall thin and lean; When jiving on a dance floor, he’s like a jumping bean. Pete and Bodgy Woodford, like to breast the bar; Although I hear the latter, had trouble with his car. Then there’s Guinea, first name Dan; He’s renowned, as the 2000 man. Around about, is Blondie Hughes; With him you watch your P’s and Q’s. Coburn occasionally, will give a whine; Also they tell me he‘s well up the line. Then there’s Jack, electric globe Watt’s; To him you and I, are nothing but clots. Now and then, Reg Baker will pine; For a petty cash voucher, filled into sign. You will find Kendall, as quiet as the Nile, Forever carrying, that potential smile. Accompanying him, we find Noel Stokes; Forever cracking, those shocking jokes. Then there’s Jim, his second name Pierce; Don’t come late, or you’ll find him fierce. Also is Joe, namely Muldoon; Turning his boys, into radio goons. Down in the cafe, we find Miss Turner; Her prices are red hot, and really a burner. Enough of the Dale, and into Parker; We find the air, is getting darker. There we find Walrus, curling his mo.; Fail an exam, and he’ll tell you to blow. Now and then, we see Jack O’Brien; Forget your Book, and it’s a flaming crime. Alongside him is Do Do Des; You must swat, or so he says. Teaching Long Line you’ll find Horsenell; He thinks his lectures, as clear as a bell. Also is Houseman, teaching the same; Long line resulting, is a crying shame. You might find my comments, are a bit severe; Well it’s the last chance we have, to make a leer. And as for Graham, the ginger beer; If he comes looking, I won’t be here. Regarding the ones, whom I have omitted; I’m afraid to say, I have been outwitted. But one last word, I’d like to say; Let’s all get rotten, here today.
T I T Author unknown Submitted - 15th June 2016