Will the Weaver
Marybird McAllister
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"Neighbor, Neighbor, come to tell you Saw your wife and Will the weaver They was standing in the door This I saw but nothing more." He come home all in a wonder Rattlin' at the door like thunder. "Who is that?" poor Willie cried. "Tis my husband you must hide." Up the pole the weaver wented In the door her husband entered "Husband, husband I do say Where you been this livelong day?" "You been at the tavern drinking Spending all your gold and living? Leave your poor wife here at home For to weep and make a moan?" "Hold your tongue, you false deceiver. Where the hell is Will the weaver?" Search the house and all around -- Durn the weaver couldn't be found He peeped up the chimney hole And there he spied his ugly soul Settin' on the ladder pole ---------------------- "Oh my lad I'm glad I found you I will neither hang nor drown you, But I'm going to stifle you with smoke" This I saw but nothing spoke. He put on a rousing fire Just to please his own desire, Made ole Willie cough and sneeze In that place he had no ease He put on another fuel Up steps his dearest jewel. "If I am your lawful wife Take him down and spare his life." Off the pole he boldly took him Thru the floor he fairly shook him Hands and feet, clothes likewise Sent him home with two black eyes. I never saw a chimney sweeper Half as black as Willie weaver Give him a kick and sent him home Not to bother me no more. |
A great part of Marybird McAllister's repertoire is made up of funny songs. These songs, often bursting with folk humor, seemed to match her own tastes and zest for the comic. She never sang the final line of stanza six, always falling into a spate of giggling at that point. Each performance of the song came with a detailed explanation of how old mountain cabins had a heavy iron rod built in across the back of the open hearth. From this "pot pole" or "ladder pole" were hung the kettles and pots used in cooking over the open fire. The mental image of poor Will with only his blackening feet showing being engulfed by the smoke as it rose up around him in the chimney always brought laughter to the listeners, and in this case to the singer as well.
©1993 George Foss
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