Butcher Boy- Mrs. N. C. Waugh (ON) 1918 Waugh
[From Canadian Folk-Lore from Ontario by F. W. Waugh; The Journal of American Folklore; Vol. 31, No. 119 (Jan. - Mar., 1918), pp. 4-82. Waugh's notes follow.
R. Matteson 2017]
Modern conditions have evidently caused a decline in balladry, although there is no doubt that an intensive study among the old people would produce interesting results.
On the other hand, conditions favorable for balladry are still found among the shanty-men or lumbermen, some of whom claim to be able to sing all night without repeating a song. Old folk-songs in considerable variety must have been preserved in this way. We have, unfortunately, so far not had the opportunity of attempting the collection of such material.
The Butcher Boy.
In Dublin city where I did dwell,
A butcher boy I knew full well.
He courted all my life away,
And then with me he would not stay.
There is an inn in this same town,
Where my love goes and sits him down:
He takes a strange girl on his knee,
And he tells to her what he don't tell me.
It's grief for me; I'll tell you why;
Because she has more gold than I.
Her gold will melt, and her silver fly.
In time of need she'll be as poor as I.
I went upstairs to make my bed,
But nothing to my mother said.
. . . .
. . . .
There is a bird on yonder tree;
They say he's blind and cannot see.
That must have been the way with me
When I fell in bad company.
Then dig my grave both wide, long, and deep;
Put a marble stone at my head and feet;
And on my grave put a turtle-dove.
To show the world that I died for love.
The well-known college-song, "There is a tavern in a town," is evidently a version of this, which was obtained from Mrs. N. C. Waugh, who learned it from her mother.