Ballad of the Bashful Country Swain

Bill Bartlett wuz a bashful boy all through his schoolin’ days,

He couldn’t seem to mix at all with other people’s ways;

If any girl would speak to him he’d blush red ez a beet,

An’ then his tongue would git so thick his teeth would scarcely meet.

All through his schoolin’ days he shrunk from gittin’ clost to folks,

An’ he wuz constantly the butt of uv village tricks an’ jokes;

An’ thus he ended schoolin’ days ez shy ez he began,

An’ he wuz bashful jest the same when he become a man.

Bill Bartlett was an only son an’ when his parents died,

He hed a farmhouse big an’ broad an’ holdin’s fur an’ wide;

He wuz “well fised”, wz farmers go, an’ considered quite a catch,

But wuz so bashful people said he’d allus be a “bach”.

And for a time it looked as though Bill Bartlett wouldn’t wed,

Cuz when he passed the village girls he wouldn’t turn his head;

He’d drop his eyes upon the ground an’ keep ‘em there so meek,

Until they’d got so fur along there warn’t no chance to speak.

They tried to git him out to balls an’ parties in the town,

An’ sent him invertations from the hibrow\2q circles down

They said he orter loosen up an’ sorter take the lead,

An’ jine the village grange an’ sich, an’ hev a little speed.

The mothers uv the pretty girls they sent him little snacks,

To kinder tease his appertite, an’ change his daily tracks;

But Bill he et the things they sent, an’ thanked ‘em ev’ry one,

But kept the bashful habit up same as he’d allus done.

Hen Billin’s talked to William like a father to his boy

An’ told him he wuz missin’ years uv pleasure an’ uv joy;

He said he’d orter marry, there was gals enough in town,

It was his greatest duty jest to wed an’ settle down.

An’ Bill he listened shyly but took in all Henry said,

An’ said he’d thought thet mebbe he hed sometime orter wed.

But he said he was so bashful when he thought uv sech a thing

Thet he felt ez though he orter hide his head beneath his wing.

By an’ by they planned a party, jest a wondrous big surprise,

They would take him cakes an’ doughnuts, they would take him sass an’ pies;

An’ dress the gals up stunnin’, they would put forth ev’ry art,

An’ see if they could loosen up Bill Bartlett’s stony heart.

Bill someway heard the plannin’ an’ it frightened him at first,

An’ then an idée struck him an’ he let ‘em do the worst.

They came in many numbers, bringin’ pies an’ stuff galore,

But Bill, they couldn’t find him, an’ they all felt pretty sore.

They’d lit the house all over, an’ they laid a sumptuous spread;

“We’ll have our Bartlett party, whether Bill’s alive or dead.”

That’s how the leaders fixed it, an’ along say half-past-ten,

When ev’ryone was hungry, more especially all the men,

They heard a sudden thumpin’ on the knocker on the door.

En’ when it was thrown open there was wonderment galore.

In walked William Bartlett, with a bride upon his arm,

The future charmin’ mistress uv the W’m Bartlett farm!

There was plenty of commotion in the party gathered there,

All the neighbors thought uv doin’ was to set an’ idly stare;

William Bartlett was the coolest uv the gathered multitude,

An’ the way he took the greetin’ would hev done your bosom good.

Cynthy Perkins, she a spinster, uv a must uncertain age,

Was the first to find her balance, an’ she got up in a rage;

“William Bartlett,” says Miss Cynthy, with her weasel eyes aglow,

“What’s the meanin’ uv this outrage, we should kinder like to know!”

William Bartlett bowed serenely, givin’ first his wife a seat,

Then he made a little address, which for ligie (?) can’t be beat.

“Friends an’ neighbors,” spoke up William, “you’ve been anxious I should wed,

You hev criticized me soundly for the single life I’ve led,

But until I met this lady, somethin’ like a year ago,

I hev never seen the partner for to share my joy an’ woe;

When I heard about the party, thought ‘twould be a good idée

Jest to hurry up the weddin’, an’ by thunder here we be.”

“Now we’re goin’ to be neighbors, an’ I hope we’ll git on right,

An’ I’m glad that you’re assembled ‘neath my modest roof tonight;

Though the s’prise ain’t on my shoulders, ez you surely must allow,

We will hev the weddin’ breakfast, an’ we’ll hev it here and now.

Let us pitch into the goodies,” here he moved his strong right arm,

“After you hev kissed the mistress uv the William Bartlett farm!”

Bill hed won ‘em heart an’ bootstraps, an’ they cheered him with a will,

An’ that night he lost the title of the shy an’ bashful Bill.

c. Sept. 5, 1910