The barrel had long been as empty as wind,
And not a speck of corn meal could she find.
But grandmother’s johnny-cake, still she must make it,
In one minute mix, and in two minutes bake it.
She ran to the store, but the storekeeper said,
“I have none. You must go to the miller, fair maid,
For he has a mill, and he’ll put the corn in it,
And grind you some nice yellow meal in a minute.
Now run, or the johnny-cake, how will you make it,