Turnips piled high on the cart,

We wait patiently for it to start,

Having placed a whole house brick,

Where it usually does the trick,

We wait down behind the wall,

For the turnips as they fall.

Carter hears an unusual sound,

As the cart lurches,but doesn't look round,

The trick worked again with consummate ease,

Four turnips fell off, we get one apiece.

Dashing home, feeling glad,

Mum is grateful, musn't tell Dad,,

Keep it quiet, cos it's not proper,

When your Dad's the Village Copper.