(seq. 65)

The Art of Cookery,

An ingenious poem by Dr. William King, who
was born in 1668 and died in 1712.
Here are some lines from it on the
making of a pudding.

Sometimes the frugal matron seems in haste,

Nor cares to beat her pudding into paste;

Yet milk in proper skillet she will place,

And gently spice it with a blade of mace;

Then set some careful damsel to look to't,

And still to stir away the bishop's foot;

For if burnt milk should to the bottom stick,

Like over-heated zeal, 'twould make folks sick.

Into the milk her flour she gently throws,

As valets now would powder tender beaux:

The liquid forms in hasty mass unite,

Both equally delicious as they're quite:

In shining dish the hasty mass is thrown,

And seems to want no graces but its own;

Yet still the hosuewife brings in fresh supplies

To gratify the taste and please the eyes;

She on the surface lumps of butter lays,

Which, melting with the heat, its beams displays,

From whence it causes wonder to behold

A silver soil bedeck'd with streams of gold.