My little sister Agatha, while reading in her chair,
Accidently spilt her milk which splattered everywhere.
She went to get a rag with which to wipe it up
And accidently hit the shelf that held the plates and cups.
The plates and cups slid down of course, crashing one by one.
Oh dear, said Agatha, This book is not much fun.

Reluctantly she got a broom to sweep up all the glass
But hit the lightbulb with the handle, accidently as she passed,
Then knocked the plant upon the floor, which spewed the dirt about
And changed her feeling from dismay to misery no doubt.
So take my advice young children, the faults not in the chair;
It's reading that I warn against: beware children, beware