Chuck Bakes A Cake

Chuck Bakes A Cake

Now Chuck’s in a terrible fix;
It’s a fruit-cake he’s trying to mix.
He’s got flour; he’s got butter,
But Chuck is a nutter;
He’s looking for cinnamon sticks.

‘But why?’ you may naturally ask.
I dunno; but his face is a mask
Of what passes for real
Concentration. Conceal
Yourself; watch him performing his task.

Well there goes a half pound of flour;
He’s been sifting the stuff for an hour.
Now he’s singing a tune
As he picks up a spoon
And starts beating with all of his power.

I know what you’re thinking, but utter
It quietly now in a mutter;
Don’t frighten the lad
(Though it’s terribly sad)
For of course he’s forgotten the butter.

But watch him; he’s mixing it round
(Although most of the flour’s on the ground).
Now he’s pouring in water
I know he didn’t oughta
But fruit is ten dollars a pound.

And Chuck doesn’t earn any money.
(Don’t snigger it isn’t that funny.)
Oh, look at him taste
It; it’s wallpaper paste;
It’s not cake-mix at all. It’s too runny.

‘Ker-shlurp!’ What a lip-smacking suck.
Ohmygod, now his lips have got stuck
To the bowl of the spoon.
Yes, I know he’s a loon
But I’m really quite fond of young Chuck

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