Читать книгу Sand In My Shoes: Coming of Age in the Second World War: A WAAF’s Diary - Joan Rice - Страница 35

Coming home on leave last night I bought Reader's Digest and found in it this perfect thing. It's supposed to be a song chanted by a four-year-old boy in his bath each night and his mother had managed to copy down this fragment:

He will just do nothing at all, he will just sit there in the noon-day sun

And when they speak to him he will not answer them, because he does not care to

He will stick them with spears and put them in the garbage

When they tell him to eat his dinner he will laugh at them

And he will not take his nap because he does not care to, he will go away and play with the panda

And when they come to look for him he will put spikes in their eyes and put them in the garbage

He will not go out in the fresh air or eat his vegetables or make wee wee for them and he will grow thin as a marble

He will do nothing at all, he will just sit there in the noonday sun.

I went over to Lensbury to have lunch with Barbara¹⁵ today (dear, kind, generous, delightful Shell, they paid all their staff, us serving members as well, a 10 per cent increase on their salary to cover the now increased cost of living and many weeks' back increase as well).