Mud Pies

Teil me, little houscwives, Playin in the sun, Hem inany miutite rill the cookmg's Jone 'i -htuiy builda the oren, fenny rolls the crust, Kuty buv the Hour, All oí' olüeii dust. I it it here, and pat it t'icre ; W hut a datnly sizc ! II akc it on a hingfe, - Nicc mud pies 1 Don't yon hear the bluebeard 1 1 iii up in the air Gocxl niorniutf, little ones, Are yuu buy Uicrt.' Trctty Mister Squirrel Uuunctrs down ttie rail, Takes a seat and wutchet, i, url lus buhy Util. I wirl it so and mark it so, (L.ookliiti wonderous wise) All the plumbs are pcbbíe,- itiLii mud pies ! Anus that never weary, Tuilin dimples decp. Shut ihe oven door, oow. And toon wc'Jl Uk a peep. Wiüh we had a shower. Thlnk we need it so,- That would inake the roadiidc Such a hcap of dough 1 Turn them in and turn them out, llow the morning Hias I líinj the bell for dinncr, - Hot mud pies !