Old Town Types No. 16 - Mr Tank Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDEFEE GG BHIFEE JJBBKEFEE FFLLMIFEE| 'Twice one are two twice two are four ' | A |
| I can still hear it floating thro' the old school door | B |
| Those childish voices falling rising in rhythmic chant | C |
| In a room where heat is prevalent and ventilation scant | C |
| 'Twice nine are eight teen ' And presiding o'er the scene | D |
| Like a demon in a 'panto ' blackavised and racked with pain | E |
| Urging on the chorus faster towers Mr Tank the master | F |
| With his mutton chop whiskers and his cane | E |
| His cruel thrice accursed rattan cane | E |
| - | |
| Some incurable affliction soured his spirit it was said | G |
| For above his brow an ever present plaster decked his head | G |
| 'Twice one are two twice two are four ' | - |
| And suddenly the master disappeared behind the door | B |
| For 'twas said too his affection had instilled a predilection | H |
| For too frequent nips of liquor on the sly now and again | I |
| And they boded fell disaster for gaunt Mr Tank our master | F |
| With his mutton chop whiskers and his cane | E |
| His ever swinging torture bringing cane | E |
| - | |
| He 'kept us in' one afternoon till summer dusk came down | J |
| While as the elder scholars knew he liquored in the town | J |
| And a dozen big boys rushed him as he swayed in at the door | B |
| And they poured ink on his whiskers as he grovelled on the floor | B |
| And we small kiddies stood about mouths agape eyes popping out | K |
| To see our dreaded teacher branded with this shameful stain | E |
| For no idol could loom vaster than grim Mr Tank the master | F |
| With his mutton chop whiskers and his cane | E |
| But they broke to bits his terrifying cane | E |
| - | |
| 'Twice one are two twice two are four' | F |
| The chant arose next morning while across the ink stained floor | F |
| Mr Tank ashamed but savage glowered at the trembling class | L |
| But my thoughts of him grow gentle as the mellowing seasons pass | L |
| Now when hard won knowledge fails me straight an olden dread assails me | M |
| And a phantom cane descending sharply stirs my wits again | I |
| And I bless stern Tank the master with his strip of sticking plaster | F |
| And his mutton chop whiskers and his cane | E |
| Most especially his wisdom waking cane | E |
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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