He opened the door and stood there listening.
"I want to stay little," said John Clifford Knight;
"The grown-ups are dull, and so old.
They never can run, they're too proper to fight;
They only look at us, and scold."
Chorus:
"But I'll sing when I'm little, and I'll sing when I'm big,
And my song will be Ha! Ha!! Ha!!!"
"They like sitting still, they can't climb a high wall,
They never play games and pretend,
The fairies and bogies they can't see at all,
Their money on sweets they'll not spend."
Chorus:
"But I'll sing," etc.
"I want to be bigger," said Peter McDuff,
"For grown-ups can do as they will;
They eat what they like and have more than enough
Without being seedy and ill."
Chorus:
"But I'll sing," etc.
"They always have money; they don't have to go
Off to bed every night before eight.
Whatever they want, there is never a 'No,'
And nobody scolds when they're late."
Chorus:
"But I'll sing," etc.
The children were rather astonished when a rich bass voice joined in the chorus of the last verse.
Anstice looked over her shoulder and smiled.
And then, just as he was, he dropped into a chair.
"Sing another," he said.
So they sang another one, and then another, and then he moved over to the fire, and Ruffie insisted upon being lifted on his knees.
"You sing very nice, Dad," he said, putting his tiny hand up and holding his father's chin in a way that he had when he wanted to be emphatic. "I think you'll have to come and sing with us always."
"Oh, Dad will soon be going away again," sang out Georgie; "he's been home quite a long time now."
"I'm not going just yet," said Justin.