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Cooks and Cooks

By: Ardis E. Parshall - August 11, 2011

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!

(1921)



4 Comments »

  1. My mother was our cook, and she sent us out plenty! But not always. I remember especially making Toll House cookies and also spritz cookies at Christmas. Christmas baking for me always starts with spritz cookies…

    Comment by Paul — August 11, 2011 @ 1:16 pm

  2. My mother didn’t send us out very often. The only snag was, once we’d watched and “helped” enough to know how to do something, we sometimes were sent to the kitchen to do the cooking and baking ourselves even if we didn’t feel like it!

    Comment by Ardis E. Parshall — August 11, 2011 @ 2:15 pm

  3. This put me in mind of James Whitcomb Riley’s “Our Hired Girl,” which was a childhood favorite because the hired girl’s name was my name! (Well, that, and going to James Whitcomb Riley Elementary School meant that we had a very close acquaintance with his poetry! And it made sense to us!)

    From Project Gutenberg (long ago in public domain)

    OUR HIRED GIRL

    Our hired girl, she’s ‘Lizabuth Ann;
    An’ she can cook best things to eat!
    She ist puts dough in our pie-pan,
    An’ pours in somepin’ ‘at’s good and sweet,
    An’ nen she salts it all on top
    With cinnamon; an’ nen she’ll stop
    An’ stoop an’ slide it, ist as slow,
    In th’ old cook-stove, so’s ‘twon’t slop
    An’ git all spilled; nen bakes it, so
    It’s custard pie, first thing you know!
    An’ nen she’ll say:
    “Clear out o’ my way!
    They’s time fer work, an’ time fer play!—
    Take yer dough, an’ run, Child; run!
    Er I cain’t git no cookin’ done!”
    When our hired girl ‘tends like she’s mad,
    An’ says folks got to walk the chalk
    When she’s around, er wisht they had,
    I play out on our porch an’ talk
    To th’ Raggedy Man ‘at mows our lawn;
    An’ he says “Whew!” an’ nen leans on
    His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes
    An’ sniffs all around an’ says,—”I swawn!
    Ef my old nose don’t tell me lies,
    It ‘pears like I smell custard-pies!”
    An’ nen he’ll say,—
    “‘Clear out’ o’ my way!
    They’s time fer work an’ time fer play!
    Take yer dough, an’ run, Child; run!
    Er she cain’t git no cookin’ done!'”

    Wunst our hired girl, one time when she
    Got the supper, an’ we all et,
    An’ it was night, an’ Ma an’ me
    An’ Pa went wher’ the “Social” met,—
    An’ nen when we come home, an’ see
    A light in the kitchen-door, an’ we
    Heerd a maccordeum, Pa says “Lan’—
    O’Gracious! who can her beau be?”
    An’ I marched in, an’ ‘Lizabuth Ann
    Wuz parchin’ corn fer the Raggedy Man!
    Better say
    “Clear out o’ the way!
    They’s time fer work, an’ time fer play!
    Take the hint, an’ run, Child; run!
    Er we cain’t git no courtin’ done!'”

    Comment by Coffinberry — August 11, 2011 @ 4:36 pm

  4. Every time my five-year-old granddaughter stays at my house, we bake something. Her favorite is sugar cookies which then have to be painted with food coloring in milk and dipped in sugar. About every other time, though, I convince her to try something new. It is so fun watching her roll out cinnamon rolls. She has her own apron at my house and can measure flour, brown sugar, salt, etc as good as I can. I’m loving it. And the best part is when both of us lick the beaters together.

    Comment by Maurine Ward — August 11, 2011 @ 7:59 pm

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