The students were taught by a master
But the dance class became a disaster
Cried one little mister,
“I’m paired with my sister!”
“So can’t we please dance any faster?”
Congratulations to Linda Neukrug of Walnut Creek, California! For her limerick describing Albert W. Hampson’s illustration Cotillion, which appeared as a Post cover on May 23, 1936, Linda wins $25 and our gratitude for a job well done.
If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our upcoming issue, submit your limerick via our online entry form.
Linda’s was only one of a bunch of great limericks! Here are some of our favorites from our runners-up, in no particular order:
We’re lined up, all in our places
To practice polite social graces.
Some day this dance
May lead to romance,
But today we’d rather make faces.
—Christine Coates, New Berlin, New York
They went to the junior cotillion,
Where she wore a dress of vermillion.
But what are the chances
These kids have more dances?
I’d say about one in a million.
—Pat Cunningham, Cheektowaga, New York
They’ve probably practiced all day
To perform in this delicate way,
But the two kids in front
Add their own little stunt
To an otherwise perfect display.
—Chet Cutshall, Willowick, Ohio
Dad said, “Just so that we are clear,
You will dance with your sister this year,
Or lose, if you like,
The use of your bike,”
Which explains the real reason I’m here.
—Paul Desjardins, West Kelowna, British Columbia
The children’s performance was fine,
Their costumes and dancing divine.
One had to award ’em
High marks for decorum
… Except at the front of the line.
—Michelle Gordon, Airway Heights, Washington
The French master’s class in the dance
Quite often would spark a romance.
But Sally and Sonny
Are nobody’s honey!
Which shows in their combative stance.
—Lynn Johnson, Green Valley, Arizona
This girl who is dressed up in pink
Doesn’t know quite what to think:
Does this boy really hate her
Or wish he could date her?
She’ll obsess about this with her shrink.
—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
“Excuse me, there’s no time to laugh.
Bow and curtsy and straighten the calf.
This is a cotillion;
You will look like a million
Or my salary will likely be half.”
—Dolores M. Sahelian, Mission Viejo, California
In the ballroom, the young are taught graces
And how to trade spats for embraces,
But whether waltz or quadrille,
There are boys and girls still
Who wish only to trade nasty faces.
—Rebecca Shulman, New Hope, Pennsylvania