MUFFINS

Molly tied her apron on, Blue and white, it was; “I’ll be making muffins,” Molly said, “because There’s no more o’ currants For the little buns”; “Make us muffins,” ’Lizbeth cries, “Fluffy yellow ones!” Sniffing in the baking smell Brother said to me: “Think of all the children Muffinless, for tea! Esquimos with bear and oil China boys with rice— I am glad I live at home; Muffins are so nice!”