PATTYCAKE, PATTYCAKE, BAKER'S MAN!

By L. Frank Baum
Author of John Dough and the Cherub, The Treasure of Karnak, and The Visitors from Oz. etc.

Originally written for the script of the unproduced musical Prince Silverwings (1903). Later used (slightly revised) in the musical The Woggle-Bug, first produced at the Garrick Theater, Chicago, June 18, 1905.

 

 

                         Duet:

                (Pattycake and John Doe.)

 

                            1.

 

DOE:      If you will but be mine—

                    Pattycake—Pattycake!

PAT:        What then, if I'll be thine,

                        Baker's-Man?

BOTH:    We'll bask in windless breezes,

                Where a sunbeam never freezes

                And a toothache always pleases—

PAT:            Baker's-Man, Baker's-Man!

BOTH:     Where a june-bug never sneezes

DOE:                Pat-ty-cake!

                            BOTH:

We'll stroll along the babbling brooks, our bank account begun;

With Browning for our poet we perpahs will Ad-di-son;

While delicious strains of music through our cullanders will run

And we'll toss 'em in the oven for {hubby/wifey} and me!

DOE:        Pattycake, Pattycake!

PAT:                Baker's Man!

DOE:        Try, dear, to love me!

PAT:            I will, if I can.

BOTH:    Blisses and kisses we'll mix in one pan—

DOE:        Pattycake, Pattycake!

PAT:                Baker's Man!

 

                            2.

 

DOE:       If you will but be true—

                    Pattycake--Pattycake!

PAT:        Ah, then, what will you do,

                        Baker's Man?

 

BOTH:    We will season Love with spices,

                And desserts of roasted ices—

                We will find where Paradise is

PAT:            Baker's Man, Baker's Man!

BOTH:     This so nice is it entices—

DOE:                Pat-ty-cake!

 

                            BOTH:

The world shall be our pudding and served a la carte for two;

We'll always dine in splendor fine, the cloth 'twixt me-'n'-U;

Our eggstacy will be au gratin—fried in crystal dew—

And we'll toss it in the oven for {hubby/wifey} and me!

 

DOE:        Pattycake, Pattycake!

PAT:                Baker's Man!

DOE:        Try, dear, to love me!

PAT:          I will, if I can.

BOTH:    Blisses and kisses we'll mix in one pan—

DOE:        Pattycake, Pattycake!

PAT:                Baker's Man!

 

 

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, August 19, 1917. 

 

The Inventions of Solomon Wise

Now in Supposyville, my loves,
Among the folks that I've been mentioning,
Lived Solomon Tremendous Wise,
Who had a genius for inventioning;
A dear old thoughtful soul was he,
Experimenting every way
To lessen toil and pour sweet oil
Upon the tasks of every day.

Said he, one hot and dusty morn,

"It seemeth sad that folks must languish

On days like these, for lack of breeze

Doth cause unnecessary anguish."

And having thus expressed himself,

He paced beneath his garden trees;

Resolved, before another dawn,

To find a way to make a breeze.

 

"If little fans cause little breezes

I'll build a giant whizzing one";

Scarce popped the thought into his head

Before his work's begun;

"I'll keep it for a big surprise,"

Quoth Solomon Tremendous Wise.

 

Awoke next day the sleepy folk,

With listless looks and aching heads;

With little sighs about the heat,

They tumble from their tumbled beds;

" 'Tis even hotter than before,"

Declareth one unto the other;

"If some cool breeze don't stir the trees

We'll just completely smother."

But in his garden on the hill

Old Solomon Tremendous Wise

Had built (indeed he's working still)

A mill wheel of tremendous size.

Now, chuckling like old Santa Claus,

He touches an electric button;

Next minute--mercy! Goodness me!

The air is full of legs o' mutton!

The butcher, driving past, alas!

Was caught up in the whirling breeze;

And sides of beef and mutton chops,

And he himself, perched in the trees.

Faster, faster, flew the wheel;

A hissing gale rushed down each street,

And stripped the lines, and broke the vines,

And snatched the people off their feet.

The clothes a-drying in the yards

Jerked off; the people spun like tops;

Old Solomon Tremendous Wise

Into the lake abruptly drops;

The Queen and ladies of the Court

Were circling 'round ten feet in air,

Before old Solomon crawled out

And turned his breeze away from there.

"Hum, ho!" sighed he, "you are some blower,

I'll have to make the wheel go slower!"

The which he did; and having done it,

Received the thanks of all. He'd won it

I must admit; and tell me truly,

Don't YOU think 'twas a good invention?

I wish we had a blower here

And several places I might mention.

Copyright © 2020 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.