“Let me see if Philip can Be a little gentleman; Let me see if he is able To sit still for once at table.” Thus spoke in earnest tone The father to his son; And the mother looked very grave To see Philip so misbehave. But Philip he did not mind His father who was so kind. He wriggled And giggled, And then, I declare, Swung backward and forward And tilted his chair Just like any rocking horse;- “Philip! I am getting cross!”
See the naughty, restless child, Growing still more rude and wild, Till his chair falls over quite. Philip screams with all his might, Catches at the cloth, but then That makes matters worse again. Down upon the ground they fall, Glasses, bread, knives forks and all. How Mamma did fret and frown, When she saw them tumbling down! And Papa made such a face! Philip is in sad disgrace.
Where is Philip? Where is he? Fairly cover’d up you see! Cloth and all are lying on him; He has pull’d down all upon him! What a terrible to-do! Dishes, glasses, snapt in two! Here a knife, and there a fork! Philip, this is naughty work. Table all so bare, and ah! Poor Papa and poor Mamma Look quite cross, and wonder how They shall make their dinner now.
