"No, it isn't a krame puttay, nor creamed potatoes, but cus-tard pie see? Pie! Oh, don't stand there looking like a whitewashed clown! Get out of my way, I'll make them myself!" Flinging on one of the chef's jackets and aprons, Warble flew at the job and with a battalion of helpers breaking eggs and skimming cream, she herself tossed the flour and shortening together for the crust.