Sung by lumberjack Ed Thrasher (b. 1877) for Alan Lomax, Round Lake, Mich., 1938:

‘Twas Nellie the milkmaid so handsome and so gay,
So fond of a dance and going to a spree,
It’s one joke[?] to give and another for to take,
Says Nellie to the mistress, May I go to the wake?

Cho.:
With my hal fal the lay!

Says the mistress to Nellie, I’d have you to beware,
For, sure as you go, young Rogers he’ll be there.
He’ll take you in his arm and he’ll do to you some harm,
And you’ll be sorry comin’ home in the morn.

Nellie she got ready, was out upon the way,
Wishing all the time that Rogers he’d be there;
He’ll take me in his arm and he’ll shield me from all harm,
And I won’t be sorry comin’ home in the morn.

Early in the morning, before the break of day,
Rogers throwed Nellie down beside a stack of hay;
Says Rogers to Nellie, I’ll lay you here so deep,
And I’ll play to you the game that they call shoot-the-cat.

Three months passed and the fourth month a-come,
The rose in Nellie’s cheeks they both grew into one.
Her apron wouldn’t tie and her corset wouldn’t lap,
And they laid it to the game that they call shoot-the-cat.

Eighth month passed, and the ninth month a-come,
Borne unto Nellie a fine young son!
Says Mistress to Nellie, we’ll name him for your sake,
And we’ll call him Shoot-the-Cat-Comin’-Home-from-the-Wake!

This young devil grew up to be a man,
He run around town with his codger in his hand;
And every lady that he’d meet, at her he would shake it,
And he said his mama shot a cat comin’ home from the wake.



The tune bears a resemblance to that of “Felix the Soldier.”