His Majesty knighted eight or ten,
Perhaps a score, of the gentlemen,
Some of them short and some of them tall—
Arise, Sir What's-a-name What-do-you-call!
Nuts and nutmeg (that's in the negus);
The bill of fare would perhaps fatigue us;
Forty-five fiddlers to play the fiddle;
Eight foot, left foot, down the middle.
Conjuring tricks with the poker and tongs,
Riddles and Forfeits, singing of songs;
One fat man, too fat by far,
Tried "Twinkle, twinkle, little star!"
His voice was gruff, his pinafore tight,
His wife said, "Mind, dear, sing it right,"
But he forgot, and said Fa-la-la!
The Queen of Lilliput's own papa!
She frowned, and ordered him up to bed;
He said he was sorry; she shook her head;
His clean shirt-front with his tears was stained—
But discipline had to be maintained.
