UNCLE LINKIN
(Sir John Butler, Son of Child #165)
(Bob Coltman)

Daddy, oh Daddy, won't you wake up now?
I seen from high windows where stout boats doth row,
Boats built of willow, and covered with skin,
And the very first boat carries Uncle Linkin.

Run, Ellen Butler, run downstairs and call,
Let all the pretty serving-girls lock up my hall,
Tell them to bar up, and not let him in,
For the cold wrath of God is your Uncle Linkin.

Daddy, oh Daddy, the door's open wide,
And Uncle Linkin is a-standin' inside,
With a long sword and buckler and a big ugly grin,
Says your gold cannot buy you from Uncle Linkin.

John Butler lay shiv'ring, while all through the halls,
John Butler lay shiv'ring, while they pounded on the walls,
John Butler lay shiv'ring with the quilts to his chin,
Till in come Will Savage and Uncle Linkin.

Love Lady Butler a-riding in mud,
She dreamt that her lord was a-drowndin' in his blood,
Turn back, comely coachman, turn back, take me home,
For fear that Uncle Linkin has kilt my man John.

Oh curse you, Will Savage, and false Percy Lee,
And curse the false porter that brought this on me,
Hung a light in the window, by water and wind,
And unbarred the portals to let Linkin in.

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