When something or other has made him feel glad,
His rattle he throws on the floor;
The times he is good and the times he is bad,
His rattle he throws on the floor.
When there is a smile on his pink little face,
Or a pin that is holding his garments in place
Has slipped from its moorings, he makes a grimace
And his rattle he throws on the floor.
When we are alone for the meal we call tea,
His rattle he throws on the floor;
And on the occasions we have company,
His rattle he throws on the floor.
When the cat strokes her side on the leg of his chair,
When no one is looking, or when we all stare,
When he’s tired, or he isn’t, of sitting up there,
His rattle he throws on the floor.
When he thinks that he ought to have something to eat
His rattle he throws on the floor;
When he’s eaten too much — his most usual feat —
His rattle he throws on the floor.
When he’s hot, when he’s cold, when he’s bold, when he’s shy,
When he’s thinking of starting or stopping a cry,
Before waving ‘how -do’ to his dad, or ‘good-bye,’
His rattle he throws on the floor.
And his mother does nothing but wait on him when
His rattle he throws on the floor;
She recovers it for him, but straightway again
His rattle he throws on the floor.
Out of patience, we once on the floor let it stay,
But he put up a howl, for he wanted to play,
So relenting, we gave it to him, and straightway
His rattle he threw on the floor.
