In our dainty little kitchen, br Where my aproned wife is queen br Over all the tin-pan people, br In a realm exceeding clean, br Oft I like to loiter, watching br While she mixes things for tea; br And she tasks me, slyly smiling, br “Now just guess what this will be!” br br Hidden in a big blue apron, br Her dimpled arms laid bare, br And the love-smiles coyly mingling br With a housewife’s frown of care— br See her beat a golden batter, br Pausing but to ask of me, br As she adds a bit of butter, br “Now just guess what this will be!” br br Then I bravely do my duty, br Guess it, “pudding,” “cake” or “pie,” br “Dumplings,” “waffles,” “bread” or “muffins;” br But no matter what I try, br This provoking witch just answers: br “Never mind, just wait and see! br But I think you should be able, br Dear, to guess what this will be.