And then, let me see; why he stepped on my toes,
And balanced his book on the tip of his nose
When the teacher wasn't looking, and then, O, dear me,
He made some whiskers as black as could be
With the cork of the ink-bottle rubbed on his cheek,
And we all laughed till we hardly could speak.
The teacher caught him, and punished him well;
Not half the words that were his could he spell;
And in the arithmetic he had to guess
Half of the answers and wished they were less.