Spears of old butter had each of them.
A huge caldron full of luabin—
(Methought I’d try to tackle it)
Boiled leafy kale, browny-white,
A brimming vessel full of milk.
A bacon-house of two-score ribs,
A wattling of tripe—support of clans—
Of every food pleasant to man,
Meseemed the whole was gathered there.”