The resolute eater of flowers.
Having finished his dinner he wheedles the cook,
Picks a coal from the scuttle or tackles a book,
Or devotes all his strength to a slipper or mat,
To the gnawing of this and the tearing of that:
Faute de mieux takes a dress; and his mistress asserts
That there's nothing to beat her
Like Peter the eater,
Attached by his teeth to her skirts.
But at last he has supped, and the moment is come