Poor Mrs. Phillips,
She's in such a pickle!
She started class blubbering
That she had lost a nickel!

She took a seat at her desk,
And pointed a finger at me;
She said only I could solve
Where her nickel might be!

We searched through the classroom,
And despite everyone's looks,
We just couldn't find it,
Not even in the books.

We all ran outside to seek it—
The teacher, me, and the rest of the class.
We looked under rocks and the log,
and made sure to check the grass.

We looked really hard,
But it was very strange
Because nobody could find
The teacher's missing change.

Mrs. Phillips got really angry,
And she pulled out her rifle,
Said to shut up; our screams
Were something to stifle.

It was then, that I thought,
That maybe I could trick her.
But I couldn't think of a plan;
I'd need to think quicker!

I stuck my hand in my pocket,
Dug around for a bit,
And found a shiny quarter,
As luck would have it.

I called to Mrs. Phillips,
Rose my hand in the air,
And was met very suddenly
With her hostile glare.

"You can have my quarter,"
And I reached it out to share;
She put her gun in her holster,
As she spoke to declare:

"Now, students, I realize
We had quite a fright,
But now I have a quarter,
And I'm filled with delight!"

Now I sit, comfortably at home,
My life rescued by the luck of a quarter.
The only bad thing to come of this day
Is that I'm now 25 cents shorter!