The unusual reception of my Rally Day collection has encouraged me to undertake a new anthology for grown-ups in the Sunday School. Since the classical limerick form is ideal for the width of this column, I plan to devote a major section to Sunday School limericks.

Your cooperation is invited in this venture, which already promises to be the outstanding limerick collection of the decade on this subject. Entries may be submitted on discarded Sunday School papers retrieved from the church lawn or parking lot. Limericks will be judged as to poetic structure (five anapaestic lines: 1, 2, and 5 are of three feet and rhyme; 3 and 4 are of two feet and rhyme), incisiveness, and gentle charm. Get the swing of it from the samples below and send your entries before midnight to the undersigned.

There was a Beginner named Muntz

Who never missed Sunday School once;

His award bars galore

At last reached to the floor

From the stool where he sat as a dunce.

A teacher in primary grades

Loved audio-visual aids;

She never was seen,

For the filmstrips and screen

Required that she keep down the shades.

The committee conducted research

In the basement of Center Street church,

And it silenced the noise

Of the chairs and the boys

With rubbers and switches of birch.

Librarian Lillian Gray

Read three Christian novels a day.

When asked to explain,

She replied with disdain,

“Don’t you think I am earning my pay?”

Mrs. Fixture’s been teaching for years

Countless classes of Primary dears,

And now it appears

That if she perseveres

Our whole staff will be leaving in tears.

Our class always meets to discuss

All the problems related to us.

We can get most involved,

Although nothing is solved

And we seldom remember the fuss.


Professor Clark points out that ...

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