Had been potatoes.
But now they were gone, of bad or good.
And she thought of the deacon over the way,
The deacon so ready to worship and pray,
Whose cellar was full of potatoes.
She said, ‘I will send for the deacon to come.’
And the deacon came over as fast as he could,
Thinking to do the old lady some good,
But never for once of potatoes.
He prayed for patience, goodness and grace;