THE RAINBOW BOOK
the Chinese Teapot, who always liked to appear important, suddenly exclaimed—
" What a noise that Kettle is making, to be sure ! One could scarcely hear one's self rattle if one wanted to."
The Kettle, ignoring the protest, sang on—
" Just now we were quiet, No noise and no riot, You could hear a bread-plate drop—Flop ! "
" We used to have a very nice English teapot once," remarked the Porcelain Cup.
" I remember," replied her neighbour from Margate. " He came from Worcestershire. He was a big pot, and thought himself no end of a swell."
"What! Kettle-time already !" exclaimed the Tongs, yawning and stretching his legs.
" A nice sort of life it is for one of my grade and standing," grumbled the Teapot, " to be surrounded by such a set of ugly, foreign mugs and things as you all are ! "
There was a general rattling of displeasure at the insult, but it was drowned by the Kettle, who could see a joke, singing up merrily—
" If there's a fuss—if a Pot should allude As a ' mug' to a China Cup, There's always a clatter Of jug, plate, and platter,
Till somebody washes them up." 260