What, climb on the back of a chair!
O Henry, how can you do so?
Sometime, if you do not take care,
You will get a most terrible throw.
Suppose grand-mama had got up,
Pray what had become of you then?
Indeed, my dear Henry, I hope
You never will do so again.
Your poor little teeth may be broke,
Or your face get some terrible bruise,
Indeed, and indeed, 'tis no joke,
And you must not do just as you choose.
For suppose there's no danger at all,
'Tis your duty to mind what I say;
So I'll punish you, Henry, next time,
You _dare_ my commands disobey.
[Illustration]