'Let me see if Philip can <br />Be a little gentleman; <br />Let me see if he is able <br />To sit still for once at table:' <br />Thus Papa bade Phil behave; <br />And Mamma looked very grave. <br />But fidgety Phil, <br />He won't sit still; <br />He wriggles, <br />And giggles, <br />And then, I declare, <br />Swings backwards and forwards, <br />And tilts up his chair, <br />Just like any rocking-horse- <br />'Philip! I am getting cross!' <br /> <br />See the naughty, restless child <br />Growing still more rude and wild, <br />Till his chair falls over quite. <br />Philip screams with all his might, <br />Catches at the cloth, but then <br />That makes matters worse again. <br />Down upon the ground they fall, <br />Glasses, plates, knives, forks, and all. <br />How Mamma did fret and frown, <br />When she saw them tumbling down! <br />And Papa made such a face! <br />Philip is in sad disgrace. <br /> <br />Where is Philip, where is he? <br />Fairly covered up you see! <br />Cloth and all are lying on him; <br />He has pulled down all upon him. <br />What a terrible to-do! <br />Dishes, glasses, snapped in two! <br />Here a knife, and there a fork! <br />Philip, this is cruel work. <br />Table all so bare, and ah! <br />Poor Papa, and poor Mamma <br />Look quire cross, and wonder how <br />They shall have their dinner now.<br /><br />Heinrich Hoffmann<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-story-of-fidgety-philip/
