Ball of Yarn

Seemingly, this has enjoyed a more extended narrative than extant versions of the ballad would indicate.  The available evidence  -- in particular the sophisticated rhyme scheme of A-A-B-C-C-B -- would suggest that this began life as a popular song.  The Canfield collection has fragments that hint of a somewhat more elaborate story:

[ D ]

In the merry month of May,
When the dogs begin to play
And the roosters chase the hens around the barn,
Says the jenny to the jack,
"[Won't you] Climb onto my back,
And we'll wind up that little ball of yarn."

Oh, I went down into town
And started lookin' 'round.
And I seen a gal that made my balls to yearn,
So I says, "Come with me,
And we'll lie 'neath yonder tree,
And we'll wind up that little ball of yarn.

[ E ]

"Oh, no sir," said she, 
"You're a stranger to me.
And I fear you might do me some harm,
But for a ten dollar bill
We'll go over that hill,
And we'll wind up that little ball of yarn."

Now I'm sitting in the pit
With my shirt tail full of shit,
And the bedbugs playing billiards with my balls.
For the cinches are so thick
From my asshole to my dick
That you cannot tell my buttocks from my balls.

[ F ]

This is the most complete of the modern texts the editor has seen.  It is number 50 in Paul Woodford's anthology "Hash Songs II" (Honolulu, Hawaii, 1994).

Chorus:
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
That's when I spun her little ball of yarn.
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
Ball of yarn, ball of yarn,
That's when I spun her little ball of yarn.

It was in the month of June,
When the flowers are in bloom,
I found her sitting out behind the barn.
As she shoveled up the gobs,
I gently pinched her knobs,
And asked to spin her little ball of yarn.

She undressed before my sight,
We went at it all the night,
Her little body shaking stem to stern.
And the blackbird and the robin,
Saw her little butt a'bobbin,
As I spun her little ball of yarn.

It was two months after that,
In the office where I sat,
Never dreaming she had done me any harm.
And a doctor dressed in white,
Said, "Man, your pecker is a sight,
It's been tangled in a little ball of yarn."

It was nine months to the day,
In the bathtub where I lay,
I felt a heavy hand upon my arm.
And a policeman with a hose,
Said, "Get up and get your clothes,
You're the father of a little ball of yarn."

In my prison cell I sit,
In my bathroom and my shame,
The shadow of my pecker on the wall.
And the ladies as they pass,
Stick hatpins in my ass,
And little mice play hopscotch with my little ball of yarn.

ŽIP5,¯See too "The Jailer's Song," in the "Second Hand Muse"  section, below.