"Yes!" Brown exclaimed, "'tis in the season late,
We must be looking for the fall of the leaf."
He'd scarcely said the words, when, with a crash,
Down came the dinner-table flap,
Sending some iced sauterne, with sudden splash,
Into his lady's lap.
Fish, water-bottles, knives and forks, epergnes,
Came rattling down upon her all in turns:
The sudden movement no one could control—
A slice of bread went off into a roll.