The Humorous Poetry of the English Language; from Chaucer to Saxe Part 74

Oh! if I were Queen of France, or, still better, Pope of Rome, I'd have a Christmas pudding every day I dined at home; And as for other puddings whatever they might be, Why those who like the nasty things should eat them all for me.

APPLE PIE.

AIR-"All that's bright must fade."

All new dishes fade-- The newest oft the fleetest; Of all the pies now made, The Apple's still the sweetest; Cut and come again, The syrup upward springing!

While my life and taste remain, To thee my heart is clinging.

Other dainties fade-- The newest oft the fleetest; But of all the pies now made, The Apple's still the sweetest.

Who absurdly buys Fruit not worth the baking?

Who wastes crust on pies That do not pay for making?

Better far to be An Apple Tartlet buying, Than to make one at home, and see On it there's no relying: That all must be weigh'd, When thyself thou treatest-- Still a pie home-made Is, after all, the sweetest.

Who a pie would make, First his apple slices; Then he ought to take Some cloves--the best of spices: Grate some lemon rind, b.u.t.ter add discreetly; Then some sugar mix--but mind The pie's not made too sweetly.

Every pie that's made With sugar, is completest; But moderation should pervade-- Too sweet is not the sweetest.

Who would tone impart, Must--if my word is trusted-- Add to his pie or tart A gla.s.s of port--old crusted If a man of taste, He, complete to make it, In the very finest paste Will inclose and bake it.

Pies have each their grade; But, when this thou eatest, Of all that e'er were made, You'll say 'tis best and sweetest.

LOBSTER SALAD.

AIR-"Blue Bonnets Over The Border."

Take, take, lobsters and lettuces; Mind that they send you the fish that you order: Take, take, a decent-sized salad bowl, One that's sufficiently deep in the border.

Cut into many a slice All of the fish that's nice, Place in the bowl with due neatness and order: Then hard-boil'd eggs you may Add in a neat array All round the bowl, just by way of a border.

Take from the cellar of salt a proportion: Take from the castors both pepper and oil, With vinegar, too--but a moderate portion-- Too much of acid your salad will spoil.

Mix them together, You need not mind whether You blend them exactly in apple-pie order; But when you've stirr'd away, Mix up the whole you may-- All but the eggs, which are used as a border.

Take, take, plenty of seasoning; A teaspoon of parsley that's chopp'd in small pieces: Though, though, the point will bear reasoning, A small taste of onion the flavor increases.

As the sauce curdle may, Should it: the process stay, Patiently do it again in due order; For, if you chance to spoil Vinegar, eggs, and oil, Still to proceed would on lunacy border.

STEWED STEAK AIR--"Had I a Heart for Falsehood Framed."

Had I pound of tender Steak, I'd use it for a stew; And if the dish you would partake, I'll tell you what to do.

Into a stew-pan, clean and neat, Some b.u.t.ter should be flung: And with it stew your pound of meat, A tender piece--but young.

And when you find the juice express'd By culinary art, To draw the gravy off, were best, And let it stand apart.

Then, lady, if you'd have a treat, Be sure you can't be wrong To put more b.u.t.ter to your meat, Nor let it stew too long.

And when the steak is nicely done, To take it off were best; And gently let it fry alone, Without the sauce or zest; Then add the gravy--with of wine A spoonful in it flung; And a shalot cut very fine-- Let the shalot be young.

And when the whole has been combined, More stewing 't will require; Ten minutes will suffice--but mind Don't have too quick a fire.

Then serve it up--'t will form a treat!

Nor fear you've cook'd it wrong; GOURMETS in all the old 't will meet, And GOURMANDS in the young.

GREEN PEA SOUP.

AIR--"The Ivy Green."

Oh! a splendid Soup is the true Pea Green I for it often call; And up it comes in a smart tureen, When I dine in my banquet hall.

When a leg of mutton at home is boil'd, The liquor I always keep, And in that liquor (before 'tis spoil'd) A peck of peas I steep.

When boil'd till tender they have been, I rub through a sieve the peas so green.

Though the trouble the indolent may shock, I rub with all my power; And having return'd them to the stock, I stew them for more than an hour; Then of younger peas I take some more, The mixture to improve, Thrown in a little time before The soup from the fire I move.

Then seldom a better soup is seen, Than the old familiar soup Pea Green.

Since first I began my household career, How many my dishes have been!

But the one that digestion never need fear, Is the simple old soup Pea Green.

The giblet may tire, the gravy pall, And the turtle lose its charm; But the Green Pea triumphs over them all, And does not the slightest harm.

Smoking hot in a smart tureen, A rare soup is the true Pea Green!

TRIFLE.

AIR--"The Meeting of the Waters."

There's not in the wide world so tempting a sweet As that Trifle where custard and macaroons meet; Oh! the latest sweet tooth from my head must depart Ere the taste of that Trifle shall not win my heart.

Yet it is not the sugar that's thrown in between, Nor the peel of the lemon so candied and green; 'Tis not the rich cream that's whipp'd up by a mill: Oh, no! it is something more exquisite still.

'Tis that nice macaroons in the dish I have laid, Of which a delicious foundation is made; And you'll find how the last will in flavor improve, When soak'd with the wine that you pour in above.

Sweet PLATEAU of Trifle! how great is my zest For thee, when spread o'er with the jam I love best, When the cream white of eggs--to be over thee thrown, With a whisk kept on purpose--is mingled in one!

MUTTON CHOPS.

AIR--"Come dwell with me."

Come dine with me, come dine with me, And our dish shall be, our dish shall be, A Mutton Chop from the butcher's shop-- And how I cook it you shall see.

The Chop I choose is not too lean; For to cut off the fat I mean.

Then to the fire I put it down, And let it fry until 'tis brown.

Come dine with me; yes, dine with me, etc.

I'll fry some bread cut rather fine, To place betwixt each chop of mine; Some spinach, or some cauliflowers, May ornament this dish of ours.

I will not let thee once repine At having come with me to dine: 'T will be my pride to hear thee say, "I have enjoy'd my Chop, to-day."

Come, dine with me; yes, dine with me; Dine, dine, dine, with me, etc.

BARLEY WATER.

AIR--"On the Banks of Allan Water."

For a jug of Barley Water Take a saucepan not too small; Give it to your wife or daughter, If within your call.

If her duty you have taught her, Very willing each will be To prepare some Barley Water Cheerfully for thee.

For a jug of Barley Water, Half a gallon, less or more, From the filter that you bought her, Ask your wife to pour.

When a saucepan you have brought her Polish'd bright as bright can be, In it empty all the water, Either you or she.

For your jug of Barley Water ('Tis a drink by no means bad), Some two ounces and a quarter Of pearl barley add.

When 'tis boiling, let your daughter Skim from blacks to keep it free; Added to your Barley Water Lemon rind should be.

For your jug of Barley Water (I have made it very oft), It must boil, so tell your daughter, Till the barley's soft.

Juice of a small lemon's quarter Add; then sweeten all like tea; Strain through sieve your Barley Water-- 'Twill delicious be.