Of Gilead flowers
Is good to calm
In fraxious hours.”
I laid out to gin her all these receipts, and offer to send her the ingregients for makin’ the mixtures.
Of course her pardner had passed away, but the world is full of men and wimmen, and sickness and fraxiousness are rampant, and good receipts like these don’t grow on every gooseberry bush.
And then, I had a lot of other receipts I thought she’d like. And I wuz a-goin’ to ask her for her receipt for makin’ milk emptin’s bread; somehow, mine had seemed to run out and not be so good as usual. And I had a receipt for corn bread that wuz perfectly beautiful—
“Two measures of meal and one of flour,
Two of sweet milk and one of sour,
And a little soda and molasses.”
Besides the literary treat of this poem, the excellence of the bread wuz fenominal.