  WUNST w’en our girl wuz makin’ pies an’ doughnuts—’ist a lot— We stood around with great, big eyes, ’cuz we boys like ’em hot; An’ w’en she dropped ’em in the lard they sizzled ’ist like fun. An’ w’en she takes ’em out it’s hard to keep from takin’ one. An’ ’en she says: “You boys’ll get all spattered up with grease, An’ biumby she says she’ll let us have ’ist one apiece; So I took one for me an’ one for little James McBride, The widow’s only orfunt son ’at’s waitin’ there outside. An’ Henry, he took one ’ist for himself an’ Nellie Flynn, ’At’s waitin’ at the kitchen door an’ dassent to come in Becuz her mother told her not, an’ Johnny, he took two, ’Cuz Amy Brennan likes ’em hot, ’ist like we chinnern do. ’En Henry happened ’ist to think he didn’t get a one Who never gets ’em home becuz he says he ain’t quite sure But thinks perhaps the reason wuz his folkses are too poor. An’ ’en I give my own away to little Willie Beggs ’At fell way down his stairs one day an’ give him crooked legs, ’Cuz Willie always seems to know w’en our girl’s goin’ to bake, He wouldn’t ast for none-oh, no! But, my! he’s fond of cake. So I went back an’ ’en I got another one for me Right out the kettle, smokin’ hot an’ brown as it could be, An’ John, he got one, too, becuz he give his own to Clare, An’ w’en our girl, she looked, there wuz ’ist two small doughnuts there! My! She wuz angry w’en she looked an’ saw ’ist them two there, An’ says she knew ’at she had cooked a crock full an’ to spare, She says it’s awful ’scouragin’ to bake an’ fret an’ fuss, An’ w’en she thinks she’s got ’em in the crock they’re all in us! |
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