Using’ Up the’ Scraps.

Using’ Up the’ Scraps.
Aloysius Coll.
432.2

It’s queer what Auntie Beck our cook
Can make with all th’ scraps- She jes’ gits out her little book
An’ reads it, while she taps
An’ beats ’em up with her big spoon,
Then pours ’em in a pan,
An’ shets ’em in th’ stove, an’ sez:
“There, now, my little man!”

She bustles roun’ an’ pokes th’ fire,
An’ opens up th’ door
T’ find out if th’ puddin’s done,
Or has t’ bake some more;
Bat, oh, at last! she takes it out,
All puffy in th’ pan, An’ sez:
“Now here is somethin’ good Fer auntie’s little man!”

An’ when I taste it, sweet an’ brown,
An’ all puffed up in hills,
I wonder how she makes sech good
Stuff out of little pills
Of bread, an’ crumb of cake, an’ milk
An’ raisins in a pan- “It’s all,” sez Auntie, “in th’ art
Of mixin’, little man!”

An’ then she sez: “An’ life is all
Like that from day t’ day:
Some folks, they save th’ little scraps,
Some throw ’em all away;
Some make th’ sweetes’ puddin’ from
Th’ scrapin’s of th’ pan-That is, if they has learned th’ way
To mix ’em, little man!”