The United Nations or
NOVEMBER 01, 1959 by H.P.B. JENKINS
It was a cold November day
At story-telling time.
Old Kaspar closed the windows tight
and poured a rum-and-lime,
While Peterkin and Wilhelmine
Warmed up the television screen.
They saw a straggling line of men
Who toiled with bleeding hands
To build a lofty, solid wall
Across the shifting sands;
While men in red from foot to crown
Worked just as hard to tear it down.
And sweeping in against the wall,
Like waves upon the shore,
Came lines of howling men in red,
And more and more and more;
Until the wall began to rock
And fall apart beneath the shock.
"Now tell us what it’s all about!"
Cried little Peterkin.
"It’s the United Nations, dear,"
Said Kaspar with a grin;
"They’re building walls against the Reds,
So we’ll sleep safely in our beds."
"Then why do they allow the Reds
To work upon the wall?"
"To chase them off," Old Kaspar said,
"Would never do at all;
For then they never would agree
To help us build Security!"