Here are fragments of the song sung by Mr. Jacob C. Frehner of Highland Park, IL, father of a scouting buddy, James Frehner, in the very early 1950's.

How well do I remember
The time that Willy died,
It was early in the morning late at night.
Oh, the cows were singing sweetly
And the birds were eating hay
And the stars and moon were
Shining dark and light.

T'was the 43rd of May
that our Willy passed away,
He died harder than he ever died before.
He was sitting in a chair,
But he did not like it there,
So he got up and he died upon the floor.

….(missing fragment?)

Oh, the doctor said they only way
to save our boy from death was to
stop the circulation of the blood.
So we filled him up with glue
in the hope to bring him to
but we only brought him eight or nine or ten

……(a fragment here must rhyme with ten?)

Oh no more upon the mat will he play with pussy cat,
No more between his teeth he'll hold her tail (fsttt, miao).
Oh no more upon the burning red-hot coals he'll hold her nose,
For our darling little boy has kicked the pail.

baumgrenze

Is there a place and protocol to annotate tunes?