HARRY BLACK,
THE SACK,
THE SNACK
AND A SNEAKY
SNACK-STEALING
YAK CALLED JACK

There was a man

                      called Harry Black.

Harry Black had a sack.

In his sack he had a snack.

He carried the sack

with the snack on his back.

One day while walking

down a track,

Harry Black met Jack the Yak.

‘Hello, Jack,’ said Harry Black.

‘Hello, Harry Black,’ said Jack.

‘Is that a snack I can

smell in your sack?’

‘Why, yes, it is,’

           said Harry Black.

‘I carry a snack

in the sack on my back.’

‘Can I have some, Harry Black?’

said Jack the Yak, who had no snack.

‘No way, Jack,’ said Harry Black.

‘Get your own snack, Jack the Yak!’

‘You’ll be sorry,’

said Jack the Yak.

‘You’ll be sorry, Harry Black!’

But Harry Black

just turned his back

and kept on walking

down the track

until he saw

a big haystack.

‘I think I’ll have a little nap

and rest my sore and aching back,’

said the very tired Harry Black,

as he climbed the haystack

         with his sack.

But while Harry Black

enjoyed his nap,

Jack the Yak

snuck into the sack

and ate up all of Harry’s snack.

Then Jack the sleepy,

snack-filled Yak

fell fast asleep

in Harry’s sack.

‘Alas! Alack!’ cried Harry Black

when he woke up—

opened his sack—

and found Jack the Yak

in place of his snack.

‘Alas! Alack! What a setback!

My snack has been stolen

by a snack-stealing yak!’

said the very angry Harry Black.

‘I’m going to give that yak a whack!’

But Jack the Yak

jumped out of the sack

and yelled, ‘Get back,

I’ve got a tack!

And it’s a SHARP one,

Harry Black!’

‘Alas! Alack!’ said Harry Black.

‘I cannot give that yak a whack!

Or he’ll attack me with that tack!’

And then Jack the Yak

with his sharp tack

jumped out of the sack

and fled on horseback.

                 So ...

if you’re ever walking

down a track

carrying a snack in a sack

on your back

and you meet a snackless yak

called Jack,

don’t hold back:

open your sack

and share your snack—

for Jack the sneaky,

snack-stealing Yak

might just have

a very sharp tack

and you could end up

like poor Harry Black—

alone and hungry

on a haystack

with nothing but

a snackless sack.