103. Little Plowing Boy

103

Little Plowing Boy

An English ballad not often found in this country but well
known in England; reported from Lancashire (JFSS vin 269),
Herefordshire (JFSS iv 308-10), Norfolk (JFSS viii 268, tune
only), Essex (JFSS 11 146-7), and Sussex (JFSS i 132-3, iv 303-8,
FSE V lo-ii). It is known also in Ireland (OIFMS 223). It was
printed as a stall ballad by Fortey and by Pitts. In this country
it has been found in Virginia (SharpK i 369) and North Carolina
(FSRA 127), and Mrs. Herrick of California reports it (JAFL
XVIII 276) 'as a ballad traditional in her family — in Maryland,
apparently. The texts vary considerably, but there is no reason to
question that they are all forms of one ballad. Our collection has
one full text and a fragment.

A
'Little Plowing Boy.' Contributed by L. W. Anderson as written down
by Alva Wise from the singing of Mrs. J. P. Wise of Nag's Head,
Dare county. Mr. Anderson writes : "Mrs. Wise sang this to me in a
store at Nag's Head. She cannot read or write, but she has her head
full of songs, which she has preserved for her own pleasure as well as
for others. Alva, the writer of these words, is her daughter and is a
student of mine."

1 A little plow^ing boy was a-plowing in the field,
And his horse was standing in the shade.

He whistled and he sung, it was as he plowed along,
Until at length he spied a charming maid, maid, maid,
Until at length he spied a charming maid.

2 Then he ended his furrow and unto her did say,
'You are a rich lady of fame.

If I should gain your love your parents would disapprove ,
They would send me to the wars to be slain, slain, slain,
They would send me to the wars to be slain.'

3 And when her parents heard that their only daughter dear
Was courted by the little plowing boy

They sent a press gang to press her love away

And they sent him to the wars to be slain, slain, slain,

And they sent him to the wars to be slain.

4 The pocket^ and the pants this maid she did put on
With her pockets also lined with gold.

She marched up and down through London. fair town
And she marched through the showers of hail, hail, hail,
And she marched through the showers of hail.

5 When the captain saw her and unto her did say,
'Oh, come on aboard, my pretty maid,

* Miswritten or misheard for "jacket."

 

OLDER BALLADS — MOSTLY BRITISH 323

Oh, come on aboard, my pretty charming maid.
For we're bound to the wars to be slain, slain, slain.
For we're bound to the wars to be slain.'

She ran her hand all in her pocket, hauled out her hand

full of gold.
Sixteen bright guvees- or more,
Saying. 'Captain, you're the man,' taking her lover by the

hand,
And she kissed him till she reached to the shore, shore,

shore,
And she kissed him till she reached to the shore.

'Now we are on the shore where we have often been before,
With our hearts full of merriment and joy ;
The bells may loudly ring, our hearts will sweetly sing,
For I'm married to my little plowing boy, boy, boy,
For I'm married to my little plowing boy.'

 

'Little Plowing Boy.' The first two stanzas only, obtained by L. W.
Anderson at Nag's Head from Maxine Tillett, one of his pupils in the
school there.

1 The little plowing boy was a-plowing in the field
And his horse was standing in the shade.

He whistled and he sang all as he plowed along
Till at length he spied a coming maid.

2 He ended up his furrow and unto her did say,
'You are a rich merchant's daughter of age.

If your parents were to know I was making love to you
They would send me to the wars to be slain, slain, slain,
They would send me to the wars to be slain.'