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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357551" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fitzmickle Unbends</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Still with an iron hand<br>Rules house and home. Like a peevish gnome<br>He barks each curt command.<br>And he packs the family off to bed <br>Since a wireless 'fan' he's grown <br>And each obeys, while Papa stays<br>And harks to the Test alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Sat, last Saturday night,<br>Glowing with pride as Australia's side<br>Rose to the loftiest height.<br>Then, just as the fun grew furious<br>And the batsmen forged ahead,<br>Came a horrible shriek, a click and a squeak;<br>And the speaker went stone dead!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Fiddled, with urgent thumb,<br>At many a screw, in a terrible stew;<br>But ever the set stayed dumb.<br>So up the stairs in his stocking feet,<br>He stole to his small son there,<br>Whose expert hand now took command;<br>And the Test was again on the air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Frowned at his small, meek heir.<br>'You'll wait,' said he, 'lest the thing won't gee.<br>Quiet, sir! Sit over there!'<br>And his small son; hugging himself in glee<br>As the game went merrily on<br>Sat listening in with a rapturous grin<br>To the triumphs of 'Billy' and 'Don.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Seized with a strange wild joy,<br>As the centuries came, with his eye aflame,<br>Clutched at the startled boy . . . .<br>And Mrs Fitzmickle, roused from sleep,<br>Saw a sight to wonder at;<br>Fitzmickle and son, at half-past one,<br>Dancing a jig on the mat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,<br>Said with a sheepish grin,<br>'Why, Mother's here! Sit down, my dear,<br>Sit down and listen in!' . . . <br>And the small son whispered - when all was o'er,<br>And the winter dawn began <br>In his mother's ear: 'Ma, ain't it queer.<br>Pappas's just like a man!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357551" data-title="Fitzmickle Unbends de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,
Still with an iron hand
Rules house and home. Like a peevish gnome
He barks each curt command.
And he packs the family off to bed 
Since a wireless 'fan' he's grown 
And each obeys, while Papa stays
And harks to the Te..."></div>
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