When
lookin' back, say twenty
years,
A picture comes to mind,
Which in my eye beats any
work
Uv art you'd ever find,
I see a kitchen; mother
there,
Fer cake a-mixin' dough,
I see two boys a-hangin'
'round,
To "lick the bowl," you know.I see the
picture changin' now:
The dough is in the pan,
An' mother's passed the
mixin' bowl
To me and brother Dan;
I see us scrapin' with our
spoons,
An' lickin' 'em in haste,
Each one a-tryin' hard to
get
Most uv the sweetened paste.
The
picture as I see it is
A pleasure to recall;
It 'minds me uv my boyhood
days,
The gladdest days uv all;
It don't belong to me alone,
The folks, I'll bet, are few,
Who, glancin' back into the
years,
Can't see that picture, too. |
