A NORRIBLE TALE OF THE SUICIDAL FAMILY.

Stuart Robson's Great Song, published by his permission, and sung by the Great Comedian, Stuart Robson, for upwards of 500 nights, with rapturous applause, at Mrs. John Drew's Arch Street Theatre.

Johnson & Co., Song Publishers, 18 North Tenth Street, Philada
[Written by E.L. Blanchard]

Oh! a norrible tale I have to tell,
Of sad disasters that befell
A family that once resided
Just in the very same thoroughfare as I did.
The parient was so grim a guffin,
He never liked no man or nuffin,
And he never made the least endeavor
To make a joke, not what-sum-de-ver.

Chorus—
For it is such a nor-ri-ble tale,
'Twill make your fa-ces all turn pale,
Your eyes with grief will be o-vercome,
Twee-dle twad-dle, twiddle-huddle-hum.

They never saw no compa-nee.
Tho' they was a most respectable fa-mi-lee,
And every boy and ev-ry gal
Grew hy-po-con-der-i-a-cal.

They thought they had all sorts of sorrows,
And conjured up all kinds of borrows,
Each had a face as long as a ladder,
And was frightened in-to fits if they see their own shadder.
        Chorus, &c.

They sat with their cur-tains drawn down tight,
On pur-pose to keep out the light,
Father, mother, sister, and bro-ther
Never spoke a word to one ano-ther.
Well at last this dole-ful, dismal lot .
So ve-ry me-lan-cho-ly got,
That an end to themselves they did agree,
When they had settled which end it was to be.
        Chorus, &c.

First the father into the garden did walk,
And cut his throat with a lump of chalk,
Then the mother an end to herself she put,
By drownding of herself in the water-butt.
Then the sister went down on her bended knees,
And smothered herself with toasted cheese,
But the brother, who was a determined-young fellar,
Went and poisoned himself with his umbrella.
        Chorus, &c.

Then the little baby in the cradle
Shot itself dead with the silver ladle,
While the servant girl seeing what they did,
Strangled herself with the saucepan lid.
The miserable cat by the kitchen-fire
Swallowed a portion of the fender and did expire,
And a fly on the ceiling-—this case was the wust-un,
Went and blowed.iteelf up with spontaneous combustion.
        Chorus, &c.

Then in walked the auctioneer,
Who did with the furniture disappear,
And the broker man, this aint no fable,
Made himself away with a three-legged table.
When the walls saw this, their sides they splits,
The windows cracked themselves to bits,
And so universal was the slaughter-rate,
There was nothing left but an unpaid water-rate.
        Chorus, &o.

        MORAL.
So here's a moral if you choose,
Don't never give way to the blues,
Or you may come to the dreadful ends
Of these my melancholy friends.
        Chorus, &c.

Source: The Canteen Songster, pp. 102-3, 1866.


ABC transcription:

X: 4
T: Norrible Tale
T: Original title: A Norrible Tale of The Suicidal Family
C: Tune written by E.L. [Edward Litt Laman] Blanchard, 1853? or at least by 1864
S: Sheet music for Harry Clifton's duet "Very Suspicious"
M: 2/4
L: 1/8
Q: 1/4=100
K: Cm
B | G E B> B | G E B> B | A F c c | A F c> d |
w: I've of-ten heard it said and sung That men and wom-en, old and young If
e e G> G | c c G2 | G G/ G/ G G | (G/F/) (E/D/) C2 | z2z B |
w: e'er con-vinced a-gainst their will Were of the same o-pi-*nion* still: And
G E B> B | G E B> B | A F c> c | A F c> d |
w: as I can't to-night, for-sooth, Con-vince my wife I speak the truth, A
e e G> G | c c G> G | G G G G | (G/F/) (E/D/) C z ||
w: sim-ple plan I will es-say, to drive some jea-lous thoughts* a-*way.


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