Six O’Clock

We always wake at six o’clock,
When Nurse is still asleep;
She’s hidden under all the clothes,
Her breathes are loud and deep.

We mustn’t talk till seven strikes,
And so we just turn round
And hear the milk-carts going by,
They have a tinny sound.

I look up at the ceiling, and
I count the cracks I see,
And all the flies upon the wall;
Once there were twenty-three!

Teddie pulls out feathers from
The eiderdown, and blows
With all his might, to make them drop
On top of Nurse’s nose.

I breathe on all the brassy nobs
That feel so very cold;
They go quite dull till Teddie rubs,
And makes them shine like gold.

And now I’ve told you all these things,
If you wake early, too,
And mustn’t talk till seven strikes,
You’ll know just what to do.