Three Minute Stories — The Garden Gate

Early and late, early and late, Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It isn’t a gate; it’s a motor car!

I’m travelling fast and I’m travelling far.

I toot my horn and I turn my wheel, And nobody knows how grand I feel!

” Early and late, early and late, Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It isn’t a gate; it’s a great big ship!

I’m off to the Pole on a ’sploring trip.

I’ll ride a white bear, holding on by his hair, And I’ll hurry him up with a whaleskin whip.

” Early and late, early and late, Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

[Illustration] “It isn’t a gate; it’s a big balloon!

I’m going to sail till I reach the moon.

I’ll play with the Man as hard as I can, And I’ll stir up the stars with a great horn spoon.

” Early and late, early and late, Little Boy swings on the garden gate.

“It _isn’t_ a gate; it’s—” off runs he, His mother is calling, “Come in to tea!

” It’s a wonderful gate, but it just isn’t able To turn itself into a supper-table.