Lyr Add: Death of Willie

Subject: Poor Willie. Roud #13616
From: Jack Horntip
Date: 15 May 20 - 08:32 PM

POOR WILLIE

T'was a dark and stormy night
And the moon was shining bright
And the flowers, they were drooping in the mud,
When the doctors, they decided
That to save my darling child,
They'd have to stop the circulation of his blood.

So, they dipped his darling head
In a pot of boiling lead,
And they laid my little Willy down to rest.
But the robbers came at night,
And they came without a light,
And they stole the mustard plaster off his chest.

No more, Little Brat,
To tease the pussy-cat,
No more between his teeth
To pull it's tail ...
No more to rub its nose
On the red-hot kitchen stove,
'Cause my Darling Willy's gone and kicked the pail.
[Spoken] Poor Willy!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Death of Willie
From: Jack Horntip
Date: 15 May 20 - 08:35 PM

The opening line "'Twas a dark and stormy night and the moon was shining bright ...." is found in the Ballad Index. It is listed as Round Roud #13616.

See here: http://www.fresnostate.edu/folklore/ballads/San038.html

Twas in the Month of August In the Middle of July (She Said the Same to Me)
DESCRIPTION: "'Twas in the month of August, or the middle of July, One evening I went walking, a fair maiden I did spy; She was mournin' for her true love, who was in Amerikee, Agh, divil a word I said to her, and she said the same to me!"
AUTHOR: unknown
EARLIEST DATE: 1914 (GreigDuncan8)
KEYWORDS: humorous nonsense paradox separation emigration
FOUND IN: Britain(Scotland(Aber)) US(MW)
REFERENCES (3 citations):
GreigDuncan8 1704, "'Twas in the Month of August" (1 text)
Sandburg, pp. 38-39, "She Said the Same to Me" (1 short text, 1 tune)
DT, SAIDSAME
Roud #13616
NOTES [164 words]: Roud has five references for numbers #13523 (Sandburg) and #13616. Besides Sandburg and GreigDuncan8, he has "It Was on a Month of Sunday" ("It was on the month of Sunday in the city of July"), "On a Cold and Frosty Morning" ("A cold and frosty morning in the middle of July"), and "The 25th of Liverpool" ("On the 24th of Liverpool, in the city of July"), all from recordings. It seems reasonable to me that these are all the same song. Each verse of Sandburg and GreigDuncan8 is nonsense, on the order of "Three Little Girls, A-Skating Went" and "'Twas a dark and stormy night and the moon was shining bright ...." GreigDuncan8 shares Sandburg's first two lines in a first verse "'Twas in the month of August, In the middle of July, The snow was falling thick and fast The weather being dry." The singer hires a tramway car to cross the sea, falls in love with a French girl from a few miles out of Tipperary, and tells about his father "being a dairymaid, Aboard a Sunday boat." - BS
Last updated in version 2.5
File: San038

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Death of Willie
From: GUEST,Jenny
Date: 06 Dec 20 - 06:34 PM

Oh we knew that he was dyin' from the color of his breath
And the flowers,they were droopin' in the mud
And the doctor said to save our darling child from his death
We must stop the circulation of his blood
So we filled his head with glue,which we hoped would fill him through
And we lay our darling Willie down to rest
But the burglars came that night came by gosh without a light
and they stole the mustard plaster off his chest
Oh no more upon the mat
Will he play with pussycat
No more will he playfully bite her tail
No more will he wipe his nose on the red hot kitchen stove
For our darling brother Willie's kicked the pail

My mother used to sing this song. She grew up in Michigan and Ohio in the 1930s. I have no idea where she heard it!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Death of Willie
From: GUEST
Date: 01 Jan 21 - 05:20 AM

The start of the tune as I remember it from the early 70s, sung as we walked to school in the mornings!

I'll ne'er forget the evening
That our darling Willy died
Was early in the morning half past 12
the hens were makin' hay and the cows were layin' eggs
and the sun and moon and stars were shining bright.

I still hum this!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Death of Willie
From: GUEST,schrod1ngersguest
Date: 19 Feb 25 - 05:12 PM

Total necroposting in this super old thread but here’s the version my family sings! They’ve been singing it since at least 1970 something

Well we knew that he was dying by the color of his breath And the flowers they were drooping in the mud (all yell: in the mud!) And the doctors all agreed that to save poor Willie’s life they would stop the circulation of his blood

So they dipped him by his head in a boiling pot of lead And laid him aside for to rest (all yell: for to rest!” But the burglars came at night and they came without a light And stole the mustard plaster off his chest (all yell: off his chest!)

So no more upon the map will he wander with his cat Gently between his teeth bite her tail (all yell: bite her tail!) And no more upon the stove will he rub his pretty nose For our darling little Willie’s kicked the pail (all yell: kicked the pail!)

I was always told it was about a dog, but idk!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Death of Willie
From: GUEST
Date: 16 Aug 25 - 07:35 PM

My Mother used to sing this to us. She’s from Kingston, Ohio and surely learned this song from summer camp or another rural midwesterner activity in the 40’s.   

WILLY
How well do I remember the day when Willy died
it was early one bright September morn’.
The cows were swarming sweetly and the birds were making hay ,
and the sun and moon were shining dark and bright.
It was the 23rd of May when our Willy passed away .
He died harder than he’d ever died before.
He was sitting on a chair, but he didn’t like it there.
So he got up and he sat up on the floor.
You could see that he was dying by the color of his breath.
You could see the blossom nipping in the bud.
And the doctor said “The only way to save our boy from death
was to stop the circulation of his blood.”
So we gently bathed his head in a pot of boiling lead,
and we laid our darling Willy down to rest.
But it surely was a shame for that night the burglars came,
and they stoled the mustard plaster o? his chest.
So we filled him up with glue in hopes we’d bring him to,
but we only brought him eight or nine or ten.
And he turned up on his side, and he blew his nose and died,
And he sneezed and blew his nose and died again.
No more upon the mat will he play with pussy cat.
No more between his teeth he’ll hold her tail.
No more upon the red-hot grate he’ll rub her little nose.
For our darling little Willy’s kicked the pail.