Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Mother's Doughnuts

by Charles Follen Adams

MOTHER'S DOUGHNUTS.

El Dorado, 1851.

I've jest bin down ter Thompson's, boys,

'N' feelin' kind o' blue,

I thought I'd look in at " The Ranch,"

Ter find out what wuz new,

When I seen this sign a-hangin'

On a shanty by the lake:

"Here's vvhar yer gets yer doughnuts

Like yer mother used ter make."

I've seen a grizzly show his teeth;

I've seen Kentucky Pete

Draw out his shooter V advise

A " tenderfoot" ter treat;

But nuthin' ever tuk me down,

'N' made my benders shake,

Like that sign about the doughnuts

Like my mother used ter make.

A sort o' mist shut out the ranch,

'N' standin' thar instead

I seen an old white farm-house,

With its doors all painted red.

A whiff came through the open door—

Wuz I sleepin' or awake?

The smell wuz that of doughnuts

Like my mother used ter make.

The bees wuz hummin' round the porch

Whar honeysuckles grew;

A yellow dish of apple sass

Wuz sittin' thar in view;

'N' on the table by the stove

An old-time "johnny-cake,"

'N' a platter full of doughnuts

Like my mother used ter make.

A patient form I seemed ter see,

In tidy dress of black;

almost thought I heard the words,

"When will my boy come back?"

'N' then—the old sign creaked;

But now it wuz the boss who spake,

" Here's whar yer gets yer doughnuts

Like yer mother used ter make."

Well, boys, that kind o' broke me up,

'N' ez I've "struck pay gravel,"

I ruther think I'll pack my kit,

Vamose the ranch, 'u' travel.

I'll make the old folks jubilant,

'N', ef I don't mistake,

I'll try some o' them doughnuts

Like my mother used ter make.