We’ve run into Ivy Williams Stone before … somewhere …
Cooks and Cooks
By Ivy Williams Stone
We’ve got a cook at our house
Who acts most dreadful cross;
The way she orders us around
You’d think that she was boss.
Each time her baking day comes round
She makes us all go out;
She says she can’t make cakes and pies
When children hang about.
But when our Mother bakes the cakes
We never go away;
We just climb on a kitchen chair
And taste, and stir, and stay!