Sugared and scalloped and cut as you see,
With juicy red wreath and name, t-o-t,
This is the turnover dear little Tot
Set in the window there all piping hot:
Proud of her work, she has left it to cool:
Benny must share it when he's out of school.

Scenting its flavor, Prince happens that way,
Wonders if Tot will give him some to-day.
Benny is coming, he's now at the gate—
Prince for himself decides not to wait.
Oh, pity! 'tis gone, and here you and I
See the last that Tot saw of that pretty pie.