Date: Wed, 21 Aug 1996 18:13:53 -0700 Message-Id: <9608220113.AA24015@bliss.SIMS.Berkeley.EDU> From: Lani Herrmann To: BALLAD-L@INDIANA.EDU Subject: 19 years old; second try. Still Ballads of the missing parts! Sender: owner-ballad-l@indiana.edu Precedence: bulk Status: RO X-Status: Apparently I had my other head on yesterday, and composed a lengthy Tome on this subject, then saved a copy for myself but forgot to mail it! So I am condemned to do all that typing again, and have only myself to blame. I quote: Intrigued, I spent way too much time last night unraveling threads in the strangest places. First, Laws, Native American Balladry, p. 26: Ballads, presumably of variety stage origin but distinctly related to the _fabliaux_ of British broadside balladry are "The Old Maid and the Burglar," "The Warranty Deed," .... In the first two, men are shocked to discover that women who seem physically sound are actually wearers of wigs, false teeth, and glass eyes.... and on p. 241: H 23 THE OLD MAID AND THE BURGLAR (The Burglar Man) While the burglar is hiding under the bed, the old maid removes her teeth, her glass eye, and her wig. She discovers him and threatens to blow off the top of his head unless he marries her. He replies, "Woman, for the Lord's sake, shoot!" [refs: Hudson, Brown II, Davis, and 2 LC recs] H 24 THE WARRANTY DEED (The Wealthy Old Maid) When the bride prepares to retire for the night, she first washes away roses from her cheeks, then removes her wig and her false teeth, and finally casts aside her cotton padding. The bridegroom flees. His mistake was in not insisting on a warranty deed. [refs: Randolph III, Sturgis] So the song is a type pretty well known and documented. J. Barre Toelken (still a singing folklorist, or a folklorist who sings) recorded the "Unfortunate Man" long ago, on Prestige 13023, "A Garland of American Folklore." I think this is likely to be a version of "The Warranty Deed," and my mind's ear insists on replaying Oscar Brand's voice, or perhaps Burl Ives's. The specific text you cite I found in at least two places: on Arnold Keith Storm's 1984 recording of "Patched up old devil," apparently learned from Keith Storm's father (FSA-18 "Take the News to Mother," probably still available): As I was out walking down by the seaside, (It) was there, by chance, a fair dame I espied, She was tall, neat and handsome, and the truth I'll unfold, I took her to be eighteen or nineteen years old. The story continues in 7 stanzas, ending in Now, come all you young men, take a warning from me: Examine your Polly form her head to her knee, Disregarding my folly, and you may behold Some patched up old devil of ninety years old. I did review that tape Gale Huntington made for me a couple of eons ago, and some more bits of info fell out: he said he found the version he sang in a journal/logbook kept by Sam Mingo and the tune in _The Clown's Songster_. He proceeded to sing: As I was a-walking one night 'neath the shade, I spied a fair damsel all nipped up so grand, She had feathers and finery and jewels and gold, She said she was a virgin, yes a virgin, Only nineteen years old. Her fingers were a-taperin' and her neck like a swan, Her nose it was turned up and her voice not too strong, In three weeks we married, and the wedding bells tolled, I'd married me a virgin, yes a virgin, Only nineteen years old. The wedding party broke up, and we retired to our rest, But my hair it stood up on end when my bride she undressed, For a cartload of wadding she first did unfold, Which I thought was most peculiar, yes peculiar, For one nineteen years old. She then unscrewed her left leg just about to the knee, She pulled off some fingers, I counted just three, Then she took out her eyeball, on the carpet it rolled, Thinks I: Is this a virgin, yes a virgin, Only nineteen ... She wiped off her eyebrows, and I thought I would faint When she scraped off her old face a whole cartload of paint, The she took off her wig, and her bald pate well told That this was no virgin, no virgin, Not nineteen ... She pulled out her false teeth, and I jumped up in terror, For her nose and her chin, they did come together, Then I out from that chamber, nevermore to behold No fair young virgin, no virgin, Not nineteen ... So, young men, take a warning, if to church you do go, Be sure your bride is perfect from tiptop to toe, Or you'll pay for your folly, and lkie me you'll be sold For a patched-up old strumpet, no virgin, Almost ninety-nine years old! Note that most lines appear to be very similar; the one peculiarity of Gale's version is the little repeated phrase that serves to focus attention on the presumption in question. Second, the tune he sang (the one from the Clown's Songster) is very close to the one I found (to a song with similar structure, though without the repeated phrase) in the girl-scout songbook _The Ditty Bag_, edited by Janet Tobitt. I recently posted an attempt at the abc-notation of this tune, which is printed with: My Lovyer Is a Sailor Lad (from The Ditty Bag, ed. Janet Tobitt) (n.b. retrieved from sometimes unreliable memory; I can't find the book) My lovyer is a sailor lad, so galyant and bold He's tall as a [?flagstaff], only ninteen years old, And he sails the wild ocean to ports far and near, And my heart it is a-heav-i-ing because he is not here. Oh, once he was apprentic-ed to be a carpenteer, But a sea-faring life he did very much prefeer, His spirit was so tormentuous, so fierce to behold, This young man, bred a carpenteer, only nineteen years old. My heart it is a-heav-i-ing just like the rolling sea, In hopes that my sailor lad will come back to me, For there's lots of pretty maidens in the world, I am told, Especially for a young man only nineteen years old! This one sounds as if it were meant to be a music-hall showpiece with the exaggerated pronunciation of a comic ballad. Tobitt gives a source-person but little other info. On the same little bit of tape I had preserved two more (and different) versions, sung to other popular-song tunes. The first happened during one of Jonathan Eberhart's wacky-song 'workshops' at a GetAway (Folklore Society of Greater Washington's annual fall weekend camp) in rural Maryland a decade or so ago. Several voices [I think I know who some of you are!] join in piecing this one (so to speak) together. To the chorus of "After the Ball": After the ball was over, Nellie took out her glass eye, Stood her peg leg in the corner, Hung up her [?shame] to dry, Put her false teeth in a glass jar, Hung up her hair on the wall, There wasn't much left of old Nellie, After the ball. Comment: this one seems a bit less well-crafted than those previous. The last (at last!) in this mini-series was sung by a British visitor at a Plowshares (San Francisco Folk Music Center) concert, also quite some time ago. He had the perfect delivery for it: up-tempo and dry. Tune: "Side by Side": I got married last Friday, The vicar said it was my day, When the crowds had gone, We settled right down Side by side. We got ready for bed then, I got the shock of my life when Her teeth and her hair She placed on the chair, Side by side. (bridge) I stood in frank amazement, When a glass eye so small, Her arms, her legs, her bosom She placed on a chair by the wall. Well, I was brokenhearted, 'Cause most of my wife had departed, So I slept on the chair, 'Cause there was more of her there, Side by side. Thanks (I think) for putting the question that made me get around to getting all this stuff together, loose ends and all. (So: does anyone out there have something to add? The blues version??? Not to mention what Alan Dundes would make of the general scenario!) (Added to re-posting: I see that someone has contributed a couple of other good versions, including an Irish one. Any chance of posting a tune to match?) -- Aloha, Lani <||> Lani Herrmann * graduate * School of Library and Information Studies <||> lanih@info.sims.Berkeley.edu * Univ. of California, Berkeley 94720-4600 <||> home: 5621 Sierra Avenue, Richmond, CA 94805-1905 * (510) 237-7360 From owner-ballad-l@miagra.ucs.indiana.edu Thu Aug 22 05:57:42 1996