Professor Croakus, this old croak you see
A wiser old croak there never could be
Ran a class for the tadpoles
And one for the frogs
For a Master of Croakery was he.

Right down at the bottom of the old frog pond
He expounded the wonders of the croaking sound
The history of its melody
In chorus, its harmony
Delighting his listeners all around

And he croaked and he croaked and he still croaked on
Never did he realize when his pupils had all gone
From under his nose
One by one they arose
Slinking out to play leapfrog on the lawn

Now the great day of frogs was fast drawing near
That one extra day in the leap frog year
The day to keep silent
And if you didn’t
You kept mum till the next leap frog year

Dawned the great day all clear and bright
The rays danced on the water – a breathtaking sight
And a still hush fell
Not a sound, not a yell
For the frogs it was silence till night.

All at once was the hush with a rude croak rent
A croak, ‘Eureka’ from the Professor’s tent
For the professor staid
A discovery had made
How to travel like lightning to Kent

But poor Professor Croakus had to put off, poor dear
His great discovery till the next leapfrog year
Till then frogs are sent
To more places that Kent
Not as travelers but frogs’ legs, I fear!