Don't Tell the Teacher

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by Gervase Phinn




  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Don’t Tell the Teacher

  Gervase Phinn is a teacher, freelance lecturer, author, poet, educational consultant, school inspector, visiting professor of education and, last but by no means least, father of four. Most of his time is spent in schools with teachers and children.

  He is the author of the bestselling books for adults The Other Side of the Dale, Over Hill and Dale, Head Over Heels in the Dales and Up and Down in the Dales, three volumes of children’s poetry and three fiction books for young children.

  Books by Gervase Phinn

  For children

  IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE

  THE DAY MY TEACHER WENT BATTY

  DON’T TELL THE TEACHER

  FAMILY PHANTOMS

  BAD BECKY

  BAD BECKY IN TROUBLE

  DOMINIC’S DISCOVERY

  For adults

  THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DALE

  OVER HILL AND DALE

  HEAD OVER HEELS IN THE DALES

  UP AND DOWN IN THE DALES

  THE SCHOOL INSPECTOR CALLS

  A WAYNE IN A MANGER

  Gervase Phinn

  Don’t Tell the

  Teacher

  Illustrated by Chris Mould

  PUFFIN

  ‘SoThere!’ on page 53 is taken from

  Up and Down in the Dales (Michael Joseph, 2004).

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

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

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – no 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), cnr Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

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

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

  penguin.com

  First published 2006

  3

  Text copyright © Gervase Phinn, 2006

  Illustrations copyright © Chris Mould, 2006

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted

  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 pubhshed and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 978-0-14-192973-6

  For Nina and Richard

  Contents

  Early Sighting

  Supply Teacher

  My Best Friend

  A Close Companion

  Bully

  School Inspector

  Dad and the Dog

  You Are Not Going Out Like That!

  Late Home

  School Trip

  Dream On

  A Trip to the Zoo

  Who Said What

  A Letter from Lizzie

  Grandpa

  New Kid

  Home

  Down Menagerie Street

  Teacher’s Pet

  Art Lesson

  Up and Down

  The Carousel

  Dominic’s Discovery

  Question

  In a Dark Dark Town

  Conn’s Conkers!

  Communication

  Leroy’s Laugh

  Infant Nativity Play

  Celebration

  Driving

  In the Bathroom

  Speech Day

  Creative Writing

  New Boy

  Letter to a Bully

  Henry Smails

  In Trouble

  The Inspector Man

  Teacher

  Using Your Imagination

  So There!

  Letter Home

  Examiner

  Kinds of Poem

  Index of First lines

  Early Sighting

  Matthew saw a grey squirrel,

  Poking a curious face

  Though the branches of the tree,

  Which stood outside the classroom window.

  ‘Look!’ he said to Andrew,

  ‘Let’s tell the teacher.’

  ‘Don’t you say a word,’ replied his friend.

  ‘She’ll have us write about it!’

  Supply Teacher

  Dear Mrs Auchterloonie,

  I’m writing just to say,

  That I’m really really sorry

  That you are still away.

  The supply teacher has told us

  That we have to write this letter,

  Hoping that you’re on the mend

  And that you’ll soon be better.

  Our new teacher’s called Miss Merriman

  And she used to teach my mum,

  And although she’s pretty old now,

  She’s such a lot of fun.

  She reads us super stories

  And we paint and draw and sing,

  And she’s brilliant at outdoor games –

  In fact, she’s great at everything.

  I’ve got really good at number work

  Since Miss Merriman showed me how,

  And my writing’s so much neater

  And my reading’s better now.

  Miss Merriman’s put our work up

  All down the corridor.

  The headteacher says he’s never seen

  A display as good before.

  We do poetry and pottery

  And spellings on a Friday.

  Oh, and she’s reorganized your storeroom

  Because Miss Merriman likes things tidy.

  She’s packed up the computers,

  And the pictures from the wall,

  And taken all your potted plants

  And put them in the hall.

  She’s emptied all your drawers out,

  And put things in a tin.

  And she’s collected all our workbooks

  And put them in the bin.

  She’s moved around the tables

  And the chairs, she’s rearranged.

  You wouldn’t recognize our classroom

  Because everything has changed.

  Miss Merriman is fantastic.

  I think she’s really cool.

  Well, I hope my letter’s

  cheered you up

  And you’ll soon be back at school.

  My Best Friend

  My best friend:

  Sat next to David in class instead of me,

  Talked about me behind my back,

  Wrote things about me on the wall,

  Got me into trouble with Miss,

  Never asked me to his party,

  Wouldn’t look me in the eye,

  Told me I was boring,

  Said he didn’t like me any more.

  ‘The trouble is with you,’ he told me,

  ‘It’s always me, me, me, me, me!’

  A Close Companion

  As you sit
all tense in the dentist’s chair,

  Eyes tightly closed, hands pressed together,

  Listening to the whining drill –

  I am there,

  With you.

  As you lie in bed in the shadowy dark,

  And outside a cold wind rustles the leaves,

  And branches scrape the window like claws –

  I am there,

  With you.

  As you wade in the warm blue water,

  Feeling the sandy sea bed soft beneath your feet,

  And imagining what creature swims below –

  I am there,

  With you.

  As you prepare to tell the angry teacher,

  Who sits glowering at his desk,

  That you have not done your homework –

  I am there, With you.

  I am the one who

  Makes you tremble and sweat,

  Makes your heart beat like a drum,

  Makes your throat dry and your chest tight,

  I am the one who fills your head with the most dreadful

  thoughts –

  And you know my name.

  Bully

  Bully –

  Cold eyes.

  Hits me hard,

  Calls me cruel names.

  My friend says,

  ‘Ignore him.’

  How?

  School Inspector

  Inspector –

  Cold eyes,

  Sharp white teeth,

  Smiles like a crocodile,

  Frightens the teacher,

  Who stands,

  Trembling.

  Dad and the Dog

  ‘It’s your turn to take the dog for a walk,’ said Dad to Lizzie.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I took him on Monday’

  ‘It’s your turn to take the dog for a walk,’ said Dad to Dominic.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I took him on Tuesday.’

  ‘It’s your turn to take the dog for a walk,’ said Dad to Matthew.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I took him on Wednesday.’

  ‘It’s your turn to take the dog for a walk,’ said Dad to Richard.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I took him on Thursday.’

  ‘It’s your turn to take the dog for a walk,’ said Dad to Mum.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I took him on Friday.’

  ‘It must be my turn, then,’ said Dad, reaching for the lead.

  ‘Come on, Shadow. Walkies!’

  But the dog was fast asleep.

  He had got tired of waiting.

  You Are Not Going Out Like That!

  ‘You are not going out like that tonight!

  No, you are not going out like that!

  Your skirt’s too short,

  Your blouse too tight,

  Your lips too red,

  Your shoes too bright,

  Your hair too wild,

  You look a sight.

  You are not going out like that tonight!

  No, you are not going out like that!’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so old-fashioned,

  Don’t be such a nag.

  You really are a misery-guts,

  You really are a drag.

  Cheer up, don’t be downhearted –

  You look so sad and glum.

  Just remember you are my daughter, dear,

  And I’m your trendy mum.’

  Late Home

  Mum:

  And where have you been until this time?

  Boy:

  I was…

  Mum:

  Playing football, I bet.

  Boy:

  No, I was…

  Mum:

  When you should have come straight home.

  Boy:

  If I could explain…

  Mum:

  The times I tell you…

  Boy:

  You see, I was…

  Mum:

  To come straight home.

  Boy:

  But…

  Mum:

  You just don’t listen, do you?

  Boy:

  I do, but…

  Mum:

  In one ear and out the other.

  Boy:

  But…

  Mum:

  No more buts, young man.

  Boy:

  You see…

  Mum:

  Now, go and wash your hands.

  Boy:

  I’m trying to tell you…

  Mum:

  Tea will be on the table in five minutes.

  Boy:

  The thing is…

  Mum:

  Have you any homework?

  Boy:

  Yes, I have, but…

  Mum:

  Well, after tea it’s up to your room.

  Boy:

  Could I explain…

  Mum:

  And no television tonight.

  Boy:

  I’m trying to tell you…

  Mum:

  Don’t just stand there.

  Boy:

  Will you listen, please?

  Mum:

  Do as you’re told!

  Boy:

  Mrs Wilson!!!!!

  Mum:

  Pardon?

  Boy:

  I’ve been trying to tell you!

  Mum:

  What?

  Boy:

  That I am not your son and you’re not my mum.

  Mum:

  Oh!

  Boy:

  I live next door.

  School Trip

  The great green shiny monster stands still,

  Buffed and burnished,

  A cold exhibit in a vast museum.

  Never again will it rattle down the rails,

  Hissing steam, belching smoke,

  Clacking and clattering on the track,

  Its whistle shrieking.

  But there is still the far-off smell of oil and coke –

  A slight reminder of when the monster hved and breathed.

  ‘Come along, day dreamer,’ says my teacher,

  ‘Your worksheet’s incomplete.’

  And so I count the rivets on the engine

  And estimate the length of a carriage.

  Dream On

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Head in the clouds all day.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Dreaming my life away.

  My brother’s in a pop group,

  My mum’s a movie star,

  My uncle’s a world champion

  And drives a racing car.

  My sister is a model

  And my dad’s a millionaire,

  And we all live in this castle –

  And I do not have a care.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Head in the clouds all day.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Dreaming my life away.

  My brother’s in no pop group,

  In fact, he hasn’t a guitar.

  My uncle’s not world champion,

  He doesn’t own a car.

  My sister’s not a model,

  Nor my dad a millionaire,

  But I do live in a castle –

  It’s a castle in the air.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Head in the clouds all day.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Dreaming my life away.

  For when I dream, I leave behind

  A mum who doesn’t care,

  A brother who’s a bully,

  And a dad who’s never there.

  For when I dream, I leave behind

  A life that’s bleak and bare,

  And I live inside my castle –

  My casde in the air.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Head in the clouds all day.

  I’m a daydreamer, a daydreamer,

  Dreaming my life away.

  A Trip to the Zoo

  Please, don’t bring me back to
the zoo,

  No, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  The trumpeting elephant looks really mad,

  The old hippopotamus dreadfully sad,

  As I said to my mum and I said to my dad,

  Please, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  Please, don’t bring me back to the zoo,

  No, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  The bored-looking tiger gnaws on a bone,

  The poor old gorilla sits all on his own,

  As I said to my parents, oh, can I go home?

  Please, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  Please, don’t bring me back to the zoo,

  No, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  The chimps in their cages look terribly glum,

  The wolves in their pens have nowhere to run,

  As I said to my dad and I said to my mum,

  Please, don’t bring me back to the zoo.

  Who Said What

  To the boy with his head

  Stuck through the railings in the park,

  The Optimist said:

  Don’t worry, son, we’ll soon have you out.

  The Psychiatrist said:

  How do you feel?

  The Photographer said:

  Smile please!

  The Counsellor said:

  Would you care to talk about it?

 

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