FROM THE GROOM TO THE COOK.

Jenny, whene’er you roast or boil,

You make my heart within me broil;

Or when you’re at those pleasing arts,

Of making puddings, pies, or tarts,

I lick my lips at such good cheer,

And call you then, my life and dear;

What, though with grease your garments shine,

Yet you must be my Valentine.

THE ANSWER.