MY FIRST CAKE

When I was just a little girl,
I thought I'd bake a cake,
I'd bake one like my Mother did,
The kind I'd helped her bake.

I got the cook-book from the shelf,
And turned to cakes and pies,
I found just what I wanted,
Boy, would Mother be surprised!

It said to cream the shortening,
Now what could all that mean?
I'll bet it means be short with lard,
And add a little cream.

Add the sugar; then it said,
And goodness, cream that too,
It sure looked awful thin to me,
But that was what I'd do.

And then it said to add whole eggs,
Well beaten too; but gee,
How I could beat them in the shell,
Sure was a mystery.

It didn't look just right to me,
But that is what it said,
I knew it must be right because,
That's how the cook-book read.

It said to add the flour too,
But I didn't know what kind,
I found a box for pan cakes,
That's all that I could find.

It said sift flour and the salt,
And something spelled B.P.,
I guessed it was black pepper,
Or it wouldn't sift you see.

Two teaspoons full seemed like a lot,
But what else could I do?
I put it in the other stuff,
And put the milk in too.

Then I stirred it up real good,
And put it in a pan,
Now I knew how to bake a cake,
As good as mother can.

I thought the baking time was up,
And I opened up the door,
I could see it still looked funny,
Not like Mother's had before.

Perhaps it hadn't baked enough,
I'll bet that's what was wrong,
I sat down to wait awhile,
And I hummed a little song.

I waited just a little bit,
And then I smelled the smoke,
I ran to take it out real quick,
Just then my mother spoke.

"I see you've baked a cake to-day,
Now that was sweet of you,
It must have baked a bit too long",
I knew that that was true.

But; now that I have learned to bake,
And I do a good job too,
I sure am glad that first one burned,
And I'm not kidding you!

Mother laughs and so do I,
About the things I did,
And how I cried and cried and cried,
And ran outdoors and hid.

My daddy said when he came home,
"I'll bet it wasn't bad",
But then he knew that thing had burned,
And I'm sure that he was glad.

                                                             

 

AUTHOR: Margaret Shankland