Butcher Boy- Sam Davidson (Aber) c1907 Greig D
[My date, From: The Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection - Volume 2, p. 45; No. 200 by Gavin Greig, James Bruce Duncan, Patrick N. Shuldham-Shaw Emily B Lyle; Peter A Hall; Aberdeen U.P., 1983
R. Matteson 2016]
D. The Butcher Boy- sung by Sam Davidson 1863–1951 of Auchedly, Tarves Aberdeen; a farmer of North Seat Farm and well known singer who learned ballads from his farm hands. Collected Gavin Greig
1. My parents educated me,
Good learning gave to me
They bound me to a master,
A butcher's boy to be.
2 I fell in love with a nice young girl,
Wi' a dark and a rolling eye;
I promised for to marry her
If one night with me she would lie.
3 I've courted this girl for six long months,
For six long months and mair,
Till I became ashamed of myself
To marry such a pretty young girl.
4 The girl being with child to me,
Full sore on me did cry,
"O Billy dear, do marry me,
Or for Your sake I'll die."
5 He's went up to her old mother's house,
'Twixt the hours of eight and nine,
And asked her if she would take a walk
Down by yon running stream.
6. They've walked up and they've walked down
They've walked all around,
Till from his breast he drew a knife,
And stabbed her to the ground.
7 Down on her bended knees she fell,
"Ochon alas," cried she;
"O Billy dear, don't murder me
And leave me here to die."
8 He's ta'en her by the yellow hair,
And dragged her all along,
Till they've come to yon running stream,
Where he's thrown her body in.
9 He's went up to his old mother's house
'Twixt the hours of twelve and one:
But little did this poor woman know
What her only son had done.
10 The question that she put to him,
"What stains your hands and clothes:
The answer that he gave to her
Was, "A bleeding at the nose."
11. He asked her for a handkerchief,
For to roll around his head.
He asked her for a candle,
To let him see to bed,
12. No peace, no rest could that young man find,
No peace, no rest had he,
The flames of hell like a burning torch,
Ascended on his mind.
13. It was in thee month of sweet July,
When the roses were in full bloom,
It's a' for the murdering of sweet Mary Ann
On the gallows ye must hang.